A Reluctant Courtesan (Harem Masters #1) (Harem Masters Series)

A RELUCTANT COURTESAN:

Harem Masters #1

By

Nora Weaving

Kindle Edition

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PUBLISHED BY:

Infinite Muse Press on Amazon KDP

A Reluctant Courtesan: Harem Masters #1

Copyright © 2013 by Nora Weaving

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to
persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. 
The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used
fictitiously.

Adult Reading Material

The material in this document contains explicit sexual
content that is intended for mature audiences only and is inappropriate for
readers under 18 years of age.

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A RELUCTANT COURTESAN:

Harem Masters #1

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Kalliope stayed in the shadows, watching the other women
move in and out of the darkness. Kalliope knew this place well, she had been
here most of her life. She watched Kassandra, the favorite of the men, saunter
into the waiting area and move towards one of the men. The man smiled a
sideways grin, clearly having enjoyed the wine that was offered. He seemed to
not believe his good fortune in having been given Kassandra. Clumsily, he stood
up, brushing the dirt from his cloak. Kassandra swayed in front of him, leading
the way, her somewhat-dirty peplos dragging on the ground behind her. All of
the women wore some type of peplos, or dress, but Kassandra's was the nicest.

“Tomorrow night,” Gaia whispered in Kalliope's ear.

Gaia was standing beside her, smiling, as she watched her
girls satisfy the customers. Gaia was the closest thing Kalliope had to a
mother and she had been more than good to her. Many of the girls in Gaia’s
brothel had been put to work when they were fourteen, fifteen or sixteen. Gaia
had allowed Kalliope to continue to earn her keep through her seventeenth year.
But here on the eve of her eighteenth birthday, Kalliope knew that tomorrow she
would become the brothel’s newest addition.

Kalliope gave Gaia a weak smile and hurried back to the kitchen
where she quickly busied herself. It had been twelve years since Kalliope had
seen her family and she wondered what they were doing now and what their lives
were like. She refused to be bitter about the hand she had been dealt, but she
sometimes found it hard. Her mother had died during childbirth when Kalliope
was only six years old. The infant son had survived and her father had barely
shed a tear over his wife’s death. Her father believed that wives were only worth
the fruit they could bear, and until that very moment, Kalliope’s mother had
been useless, bearing three girls before the son.

Her father had taken to the son immediately, hiring a wet
nurse, Minthe, to care for the boy. Kalliope’s oldest sister Hagne had
immediately taken over the household chores, cooking and cleaning. But
Kalliope’s father complained tirelessly of his three girls and what he would do
with them. Hagne had been seventeen, an appropriate marrying age, and within
three weeks of their mother’s death, Hagne had been married off to a family who
lived in the next village.

Kalliope wept for a week.

Kalliope’s other sister, Ligeia, was fourteen years old, and
she quickly filled Hagne’s role and began to care for the household. But still
their father complained of the two extra mouths to feed and within a month,
Ligeia had been sold to a neighboring farm. Ligeia would work on the farm and
when she was old enough to bear children, she would wed the farmer’s son.

That time Kalliope had wept for two weeks.

Kalliope had tried to cook, but she was still so young. She
burned food, which infuriated her father, and she often went days without
eating. Her fingernails would be caked with dirt and she remembered hiding out
in the yard, looking for scraps or berries to eat. Her father didn’t bother to
look for her and he only seemed interested in his son. While her father was
busy working, Kalliope remembered sneaking into her mother’s room and fingering
her fine peploses. Her mother had a closet full of beautiful gowns and Kalliope
wept for the mother she had lost. All love and kindness seemed to have left
Kalliope’s world.

She tried desperately to please her father, trying to cook
and keep the house clean. One time she put on one of her mother’s garments,
only to have her father go into a rage when he saw her dressed in the brightly
hued garment, the fabric much too long and dragging on the floor. After that
incident, Kalliope spent most of her time hiding in the attic and playing
outdoors.

Kalliope began to notice her father paying more attention to
the wet nurse, Minthe. He would watch her nurse the baby and when the baby was
done nursing, her father would play with Minthe’s breasts, gently rubbing them
before wrapping his mouth around them. Kalliope watched with fascinated horror
and finally had to look away when Minthe began to moan softly.

Her father began to hang around the house more, and Kalliope
would hear funny noises coming from the room where her father and Minthe would
reside. Minthe began spending more time at the house, cooking and cleaning.
Kalliope tried to be friendly to her, but Minthe would snap at her, or strike
her, yelling for Kalliope to get out of her sight.

One day Kalliope was sneaking downstairs when she had seen
Minthe dressed in her mother’s best gown. Kalliope had lunged at Minthe,
yelling and crying for Minthe to take off her mother’s dress. Kalliope’s father
walked in to see Kalliope pulling at the dress and screaming. He picked up
Kalliope and struck her before locking her in the cellar. Minthe and her father
didn’t try to mask the noise as her father fucked Minthe in the kitchen.
Kalliope could see everything through a cracked stone, and she turned her back
on the disgusting image of the whorish wet nurse wearing her mother’s best
peplos as her father drilled into her from behind.

Kalliope shuddered as she continued to scrub the pots and
pans in Gaia’s kitchen, recalling the not so distant memories. The day after
her father had locked her in the cellar was emblazoned in her mind…

“Baba, where are we going?” Kalliope asked as she
stumbled after her father. She hoped he was not mad at her anymore. She had
told him she was sorry, but she was not sorry to Minthe.

Minthe did not deserve her apology.

“Just keep up,” her father huffed as he pulled her along
the dirt road. They had walked through town and were now going down a street
Kalliope had never seen before.

“Baba, why do you love baby brother so much?”

Her father ignored the question and continued to pull
Kalliope along.

“Baba, when will I see Hagne and Ligeia again?”

“You won’t.”

“Ever?” Her lower lip trembled. Hagne and Ligeia promised
they would see her again. They said that sisters were forever and they would
all be sisters back together again soon.

Her father didn’t answer and Kalliope felt two fat tears
trickle down her cheeks. She missed her sisters, but most of all she missed her
mama. She hated her baby brother but she was too afraid to tell her father.
Yesterday he had hit her hard. Hard enough to leave big dark marks and for
Kalliope’s skin to ache. Then he and Minthe did the dirty thing in the kitchen.

Kalliope saw everything and she did not like it.

Finally, a stone building emerged and Kalliope looked
hard at the building. It was big, but it looked crude. It did not look like a
place she wanted to visit. She clung harder to her father’s hand.

“Baba,” she whispered.

“Shush!”

Kalliope shrank back.

Her father knocked hard and a woman answered. Kalliope couldn’t
tell if she was old or young. Her face was kind however and she smiled at
Kalliope. A shy as she was, Kalliope smiled back, before ducking behind her
father’s legs.

“Good afternoon, sir. Please come in. We have a place the
child can sit while we attend to your business,” she said slyly.

Her father bristled at the woman.

“That’s not why I’m here. I want to sell you my
daughter.”

The woman laughed. “Very funny. Even here, we have age
rules. I’m afraid she’s too young.”

“She must be worth something,” he wagered, undeterred.
“You must need a cook. A maid? Someone to clean up after your whores.”

The woman narrowed her eyes.  “Watch your tongue,” she
hissed. “Can you cook?” she asked Kalliope.

Kalliope knew she could not cook much. “A little,” she
said quietly, embarrassed.

“Why don’t you want her?” the woman asked.

“She’s of no use to me. My wife died and I have married
off and sold my other two teenage daughters. This one is too young. I have no
use for her and I want no business in raising a girl.”

“You are the weaver from across the town.” The woman’s
voice was hard and cold; it reminded Kalliope of an angry snake.

Her father shrugged. “So what?”

“Heartless,” she spat.

The woman bent down and smiled at Kalliope. Her smile was
warm like honey and her eyes crinkled just a little.

“I’m Gaia,” she said kindly, “what is your name.”

“Kalliope.”

“That’s beautiful. Do you sing, Sweet Girl, like your
name implies?”

Kalliope shook her head. She used to sing with her
mother.

She didn’t sing any more because the songs only made the
tears come.

“Well, we shall change that. Why don’t you come inside
with me?” She held her hand out for Kalliope.

Kalliope looked at her father to see if it was okay.

Her father gave her a gruff nod.

Kalliope took Gaia’s hand.

It was worn and soft. It was strong and Kalliope felt
safe. Gaia pulled her into the building.

“I will give you nothing for her. Let your payment be
that I have taken her off your hands. And do not ever show your face at my
establishment again.”

“Baba?” Kalliope asked as Gaia began to lead her away.
But when she turned around to look, her father was already heading down the
road.

“Baba!” she screamed, “Baba! Come back!”

She tried to run for the door, but Gaia held her back.

“It’s alright, Kalliope, I have you.” She hugged her
tight.

“Baba! Baba!” she cried again and again.

Her father never turned around.

“Sweet child. Thea Gaia has you now. Auntie Gaia will
keep you safe.”

Kalliope finished with the kitchen and she hurried off to
the women’s quarters. There were nine women who worked in the brothel and they
shared two rooms’ worth of living quarters. For nearly twelve years, Kalliope
had kept the living quarters clean. She had certainly earned her keep in the
brothel and Gaia had been more than pleased with her. While she had referred to
Gaia as her auntie, Thea Gaia, she had truly been more like a mother.

When Kalliope had first come to the brothel, Gaia had taken
pity on her. She had been filthy and Gaia had lovingly bathed her and dressed
her in a peplos that was much too big for her. She had braided her hair, and
given her a worn out doll that had been Gaia’s when she was little. Gaia had
allowed her to lie around and cry the first week. Gaia had given her all the
love she could, hugging her and kissing her, bringing her soup and letting her
sleep at all hours of the day.

But after a week, Gaia came to her and Kalliope knew it was
time for her to earn her keep in the brothel. Gaia began to show Kalliope how
to clean the stone beds where the women took the men. She showed Kalliope how
to sweep the floors and clean the kitchen. She slowly taught Kalliope to cook
and Kalliope learned that it was not so difficult after all. Gaia promised
Kalliope that if she got her work done in time, Gaia would try to spend an hour
a day teaching her.

Kalliope was eager to learn and she quickly did her chores
so that Gaia could work with her. Running a brothel was busy work, and Gaia
could not work with her every day, but Kalliope understood. The love from Gaia
was more than she could have ever hoped for from her father and Kalliope slowly
adjusted to her new life. She began to run into town for Gaia, and gradually
take over the small tasks that Gaia no longer had time to manage.

Time moved ever on and Kalliope slowly became a charming
fixture at the brothel. At first, Kalliope was deemed too young by Gaia to be
around at all. She only cleaned the brothel-proper during the few small hours
when no customers were around. But around the time of Kalliope’s tenth
birthday, Gaia began to allow her to use her schooling to entertain the
customers.

Kalliope would dress in a pretty garments, and recite
poetry, read or make drawings on the walls. Gaia encouraged Kalliope to sing
and soon, Kalliope was singing songs for the patrons as well. They would cheer
and ask Kalliope to refill their wine. She would scurry off and come back with
the wine, smiling brightly at the men.