Their Lives as Harem Slaves (10 page)

As she pondered her immediate future the Sheik took the lengths of the rope that were still hanging from the ends of the chains and threaded them through another wall mounted ring, a foot higher on the wall than the one holding Samihah’s tight crotch rope. Then he began to pull and tug them through the ring. At first the ropes holding her tits tightened and the ones rising in front of her face became rigid, but then the pull increased and she felt her toes lose grip with the floor as she rose into the air. She squealed from the pain that burned her chest as her weight was taken by her breasts alone.

“Does it hurt my pet?” the Sheik asked, as he tied the rope off to the ring.

“YESSS MASSSTER!” she screamed, needing to vent her anguish to her evil Master. He then tightened the slackened crotch rope to its ring, pulling her body forward through her crotch and adding to the stress in her pained orbs. She felt like her tits would be torn from her body, the stress on her soft globes too much to fathom. She was glad she was bound so tightly; afraid that if she moved at all the anguish would intensify. She hung as still as she could, not to display her submission, but simply to survive this ordeal.

Now that she was properly fixed and bathed in the sweet sweat of agony, the Sheik said, “I think ten strokes on your arse should be sufficient. Does that not sound fair slave?”

“Yesss Massster, thank you Massster,” she hissed, her mind numbed by pain and the promise of even more.

He stepped behind her quivering body, amazed at this slave’s composure. Most slaves scream and cry from their first breast suspension, but this one made no pleas for mercy and was ready to accept even more pain. He felt he had chosen her wisely, she was exceeding his expectations and he chose to give her only glancing blows from his small flogger, now eager to set her free and enjoy her gratitude.

She managed to scream, “Thank you Master!” several times as he quickly flogged her rump. Amidst the raging pain in her stretched tits Samihah hardly noticed how lightly he struck her, since each blow still made her move and intensify the pain burning around her constricted chest. When he loosened the rope and allowed her feet to regain the floor she felt a rush of relief, even though the rope splitting her sex became painfully tighter.

When that was released next she dropped from her toes and onto her feet, and feeling unsteady she teetered and started to fall. She was amazed at how quickly her Master caught her and lifted her into his arms. He carried her to his bed and gently lowered her onto her back, her bound arms trapped behind her. Leaving her tits bound and obscenely stretched, he instead grabbed her ankles and splayed her legs wide to stare at her sopping wet sex.

“Please Master!” she cried out, “May this useless slave please tell you something!”

“Still brazen my pet? Fine, speak your mind slave.” He replied.

“This slave wishes to declare her undying loyalty and love for her Master. She will strive to please you for the rest of her life, or until you tire of it.”

“You love me slave?” he asked, sounding puzzled. Only one slave ever said that to him and she had been his favorite until her recent death.

“Yes Master, this slave loves you will all her soul and wishes you to know it. Please forgive its impertinence.” There she said it, he could hang her by her tortured tits again and she did not care, now that he knew.

“You are a bold and sassy slave, just like one from my past.” Omar said as he slowly removed his robes, her parted thighs beckoning to him to take her. When he was naked he said, “I accept your love slave and if you continue to perform your duties to my expectations I may eventually return the sentiment.”

Then he knelt between her legs, her rump elevated from resting on her bound arms, and slowly slipped his cock into her aching hole. It was sore from the rope that had tortured her inner sex lips, but every inch of his shaft felt simply delightful to the swooning slave. When he was deep inside her he grabbed her bloated teats as handles and began to tug on them as he fucked her wet slit.

Though he did not reciprocate her feelings, even admitting he did not feel the same way for her…yet, it did not diminish her feelings at all. As a slave she expected nothing but dominance from her Master, but when he hinted that he might one day love her, her heart swelled with even more devotion. She had a new goal now, to earn her Master’s love. And as he ravished her to multiple orgasms, she swooned beneath him, feeling totally fulfilled in her new life.

After a long and glorious coupling with her Master Samihah returned to her duties with Nashita. Samihah’s partner noticed the marks the leather and ropes left on her sister’s flesh and asked, “Did our Master test your mettle with a breast suspension?” Knowing full well the marks that punishment left on a slave’s body.

“Yes sister, but I fully earned it,” she replied, apparently not willing to elaborate any further. She started to review the slave schedule for the day.

This surprised Nashita, making her wonder what Samihah had done, having been an exemplary slave and assistant so far. She thought it was in preparation for her first client…Herr Schmidt. He was one of the Sheik’s most sadistic clients, having damaged one slave so severely she never fully recuperated. After that incident he was put on warning and two guards were stationed at each of his sessions, with the Sheik himself watching and ready to have them stop it should he start to go too far again. Now Samihah had a secret, and Nashita wanted to know what it was, her paranoia about her own position fueling her desire.

She would not learn what she wanted from her sister; Samihah’s secret lay in her heart and what she said to her Master would remain between them. She went about her work as if nothing happened and Nashita respected that, but she also considered how she might find out another way. Nashita knew it would be a fool’s errand; did she really want to know? If discovered what kind of punishment would she face? But her subdued jealousy of Samihah would not let it go and she decided to investigate, despite the peril. Her knowledge of the workings of the palace told her she would have one chance to see what happened that night only and she decided to take the risk.

Once she asked Samihah to escort a client and his slaves this evening she saw the window she needed. That night, while Samihah was diverted, Nashita slipped into the control room between the technician shifts. Here all activity in the palace was monitored and recorded, some permanently saved but all of it held at least twenty-four hours. She quickly found the scene from the Sheik’s bedroom earlier that day, enjoying it immensely until Samihah voiced her devotion. What she said and how she said it stunned Nashita; never having the kind of strength it took for her to say that. She had wanted to, many times, but Samihah, here less than a month, said what she should have voiced years ago.

Knowing her time was short she returned the display to what it should have shown and ducked out of the room before she was discovered. She was sad, angry, humbled, and near melancholy. She could only blame herself for not being as strong as Samihah, and she wanted to hate her for it, but she hated herself more. She wished she had never known the truth, it hurt to think about it and it became all she could think about after seeing it happen. She returned to her office and tried to work on tomorrow’s schedule, but her mind tormented her.

The next few days passed quickly, and Samihah barely noticed the subtle shift in Nashita’s manner since she herself was consumed with preparing for Master Schmidt, a truly frightening client. Even the Sheik warned her to be wary, referring to an incident with him that he chose not to discuss with her. Samihah had heard rumors now that she was a part of the slave population, in her position she now spoke with many slaves. They were becoming her extended family, a group of lovely young women who followed her lead now. It was strange being a leader and a consummate slave at the same time, following her Master’s orders while commanding his slaves. And some of these slaves told her of Herr Schmidt’s sadism and the fear he inspired in the Master’s harem.

The dossier she was given told her little of what to expect, other than she was to greet him when he arrived. She would show him to his room, bathe and service him as required, and then take him to a room where her girls would be waiting for their session. All she knew about him was that he reveled in the sufferings of women, and he was very inventive in the ways he would accomplish it. Her protectiveness and wariness were on high alert, but it was tempered by her new commitment to the Sheik. She knew she would do whatever was required to please her Master, no matter how painful or humiliating for her or her daughters.

The day of his arrival Samihah was summoned to the Sheik and knelt before him. He eased her fears a bit when he said, “Tonight I will be watching and my guards will be ready should your client attempt to go too far. But given the sum this client pays, the bar is set rather high. I expect the girls will suffer far more than you, but you will be a large part of his plan. He enjoys making women torture each other and with the girls being your offspring, I suspect you will author much of their suffering. Now go and prepare for him, he will arrive within the hour.”

“Yes Master, thank you Master,” Samihah replied. She gracefully rose to her feet then and left for her task. It weighed heavily on her shoulders, but was softened with the knowledge her Master would at least watch over them.

She returned to her private cell, a small room afforded to her when she joined Nashita as harem Mistress. It was a long narrow room with a thin mattress along one wall, which she rarely used, and a small make up table that was really unnecessary. She sat at the table and looked at her face, still perfectly made up thanks to Master Ichiro. As she applied fragrant perfumes to her neck, cleavage, and her sex, she screwed up her resolve to perform as her Master expected, despite what kind of anguish it might cause Jada and Jadwa.

Once ready, wearing her finest harem pants and slippers, Samihah proceeded to the main hall to await her guest. She stood in the center of the entrance hall facing the large bronze doors she first saw when she was brought here. When the doors slowly opened, signaling the arrival of her guest, Samihah painted her most pleasant look across her face and she walked out the doors to greet Herr Schmidt. She exited the palace for the first time since her arrival and stood at the top of the marble stairs as the client exited the SUV that brought him. He walked up to face her.

When he reached the top of the stairs and looked at Samihah, he said, “You are even more lovely than the first time I saw you slave, Master Ichiro is truly an artist.”

“Thank you Master, how may this slave serve you today?” Samihah replied, her anxiety and lust building within her knowing she officially belonged to him for now.

“Take me to my room, I need a bath and food before we start to play,” he said, caressing her cheek as he spoke. A shiver went up Samihah’s spine, a mixture of excitement tinged with fear.

“Yes Master, please follow this slave,” she said, as she took his hand and led him into the palace. She made a hand gesture to a slave waiting inside the door, indicating that she should bring a meal to their guest, as it had been anticipated.

She led him to a lavishly appointed suite, where she undressed him and drew him a hot bath in an oversized tub. He was a man of moderate stature, not quite six feet tall and lean. He was middle aged, with a touch of gray hair at his temples. It was barely noticeable with his natural blonde hair and ice blue eyes, his facial features chiseled and quite handsome. If he was as sadistic as she was told, nothing in his appearance gave her a clue to it

He ordered her to disrobe and join him in the tub to bathe him. She removed her pants and slippers and slid into the hot water facing him before taking a sponge and soap to wash his body. He made her use her own flesh, along with her sponge, to clean his body. Samihah slithered against him, the heat in her loins growing as she rubbed her naked flesh against his. And then he grabbed her hair and kissed her deeply, her response immediate and delicately sexual, kissing him as if he were her long time lover.

When the kiss broke he said, “You are a hot a sexy creature slave, I am sure your girls are of the same ilk. We should eat now, I am eager to play with them.”

“Yes Master,” she responded. She stood and exited the tub, taking a towel from a rack. But rather than drying her wet body, she opened it for him and waited for him to step from the tub. He stood up, stepped out of the tub, and she wrapped the towel around him, drying him with the fluffy cotton. She worked down from his shoulders and once she reached his feet she was kneeling before him.

He said, “I will dress myself, you may dry and dress yourself now.” He walked away and Samihah quickly obeyed his command, finding him sitting at the low table in his room when she was done. She scurried over and knelt beside him, hand feeding him from the plate her kitchen slave had just delivered.

While she was feeding him he inquired, “I understand one of you whelps can climax from pain alone?”

“Yes Master, slave Jadwa has that ability,” she replied, sure that this meant Jadwa’s ordeal would become quite harrowing.

“Excellent, I love to play with true pain sluts. Quickly girl, finish feeding me, I wish to use you and your family sooner rather than later.”

She quickened the pace with which she fed him his supper and as soon as they were done she was leading him to the room where her girls waited for them. She knew they had been ‘prepared’ for him per his instructions, but Samihah did not know what that entailed. Her Master had told her that Herr Schmidt wanted to surprise her. She doubted it would be a pleasant one and when she led him into the room she found she was right in that assessment.

Jada and Jadwa were bound and standing on small crates facing the door they entered. Samihah immediately saw their predicament, and from her own experience felt a pang of fear for them. She also understood something about her own Master then, since he had somewhat prepared her for what she now witnessed.

They were naked and fixed standing beside each other, their arms enveloped by leather single sleeves behind their backs. Straps held their legs together at three points, above and below their knees and at their ankles. On their feet they wore spike-heeled pumps with very high heels, perching them on their toes. They teetered on the boxes, the high heels and instability of the rickety crates they stood upon enhancing the precariousness of their situation.

They quivered there, trying to maintain their balance because of the other part of their bondage. Just like Samihah experienced with the Sheik, their breasts were cruelly bound with ropes that were tied off to rings above their heads. The connecting ropes were tight, but not pulled high enough to carry their weight yet, only enough to gently pull their compacted tits upward a bit. But Samihah could tell that if the boxes they stood on were removed, they would be hanging the same way she had been a few days ago. Knowing the agony this would cause them sent a pang of guilt through her, enhanced by the fact that this sight also fueled her own perverse passion.

Herr Schmidt led her behind the statuesque slaves, Samihah noting the look of fear etched over their faces. As she walked around them she noticed that their bodies gleamed in the light, coated with oils from neck to ankles. Despite the stringent position, she could not help but become more aroused from their inherent loveliness. Slaves always seemed sexier when bound so stringently. Once they stood behind them she could see that the ends of their single sleeves were connected to metal hooks, which were wedged deep in their rectums.

“They are lovely creatures, aren’t they slave?” Schmidt asked her, his voice taking on an edge of cruelty.

“Yes Master.” She replied, anxious about what would come next.

“I understand you have fisted these sluts…simultaneously?” he asked.

“Yes Master,” she confessed, not really surprised that he knew such details about their initial training.

“I would like to see that myself, but that would require some adjustments. Kneel behind them and remove their leg bindings,” he said rather smugly.

Samihah swallowed the lump in her throat as she obeyed his command, now knowing from the start of this session that it was already reaching a level of depravity she could not have imagined. Once the straps were removed he ordered the bound slaves to spread their legs to the edges of the crates, an order they followed quite cautiously.

Then he handed Samihah a pair of leather ankle cuffs connected by a short chain, and he said, “Bind their ankles to each other.”

She wrapped one around Jadwa’s inner ankle and fixed it in place before connecting the second cuff to her sister’s matching ankle. It was barely long enough to allow them to remain standing on their boxes, and she felt them trembling from the knowledge of what was about to happen. Next she was given ropes for their other ankles and secured them tightly to rings mounted to the floor beside the boxes. Now their legs were parted wide enough for Samihah to easily access their pussies.

“Crawl around to face them and position your fingers inside their cunts slave,” he said, the edginess in his voice escalating with his sadistic arousal. Samihah obeyed, kneeling in from of the boxes and slipping all four of her fingers into their moist openings. She tucked her thumbs into her palms, ready to violate her girls at his command.

“Excellent!” he exclaimed as he walked around the trio of slaves.

He walked behind the girls and grabbed each of their rumps with his hands; kneading their slick flesh and making them wobble even more while trying to remain on their feet. Then he moved his hands to hooks trapped in the rear holes and tugged up on them, creating more distress in their attempts to remain standing.

“Which of you is Jadwa?” he asked the trembling girls.

“This slave is Jadwa,” replied Samihah’s youngest, unsure why he would be interested in her in particular.

“I understand you can climax from pain?”

“Yes Master.” Now she knew.

“At will?”

Jadwa had to think a moment and then said, “No Master, this slave cannot make it happen, it just happens sometimes.”

“Sometimes? Explain what you mean slave,” he said, sounding let down.

“At times Master, pain is just pain, but then other times it makes this slave climax. She has no idea why,” Jadwa wished she could do it, she had tried and it only happened of its own volition. She guessed that there was a secret trigger inside her that she could not find.

Pity, but you will let me know if it does happen while I play with you.” he asked, his tone grave.

“Yes Master, this slave will thank you properly if you make it orgasm, it is her duty,” she replied.

“Yes your Master was wise instituting that rule, thanking your owner’s for such a grand gift is only logical. But enough chit chat, slave Samihah hold your arms fast!” he said, reaching down from the girls rumps and pulling the box from under Jadwa’s feet.