Slavegirl

Chapter One

Lying there in the pitch blackness, Gillian Fraser clenched her
teeth and made an unsuccessful at-tempt to check the sob that
rose in her throat She came close to tears again.. and then again
re-minded herself of the futility of crying. Had she not shed
enough tears In the past months? It was a wonder, indeed, that
she had the means to produce more!

Slowly and very carefully, Gillian moved her hands down. It was,
perhaps, lust a little surprising that she could do so for, more
often than not, they would have been shackled. Maybe that had
been an oversight. Gently she placed her cool -Ins on her
smarting, burning buttocks. On her bare buttocks. For Gillian was
stark naked.
Gentle as she was, Gillian Fraser still winced and gave a little
gasp. Under her palms she could feel the ten freshly-raised
ridges of searing torment.  Tears of mingled pain and self-pity
came to her eyes, despite her efforts to check them. It was all
so hideously unfair. Unjust Why had Fate picked her out for such
an appalling nemesis? It was by no means the first time that
Gillian had asked her-self such questions. And, needless to say,
she had never yet received any satisfactory answer.
She kept her palms pressed to her flesh until they no longer felt
as rellevingly cool as they had done originally. All the time
thought with bitter hatred of Farida. For it was she-Farida, the
save mistress of the harem of Bey Hamil Aroun - who had raised
those ridge weals some two hours before. She had raised them with
a rod.
Worse. In some three hours time, Farida would raise ten more,
similar weals across Gillian's burning, tender buttock flesh!
For that was the punishment that Farida had decreed. And Farida
was all-powerful in matters of discipline in the harem. The
inevitability of what must happen bore down on Gillian as she lay
there like some stone-weight. What Farida the slave-mistress
commanded was carried out. Thus Gillian knew, as surely as night
followed day, that she would endure the torment of the rod within
the time specified.
The hardness of the polished wooden block on which she lay face
down was a discomfort in itself. But she, like others in the
Bey's harem, had come, to some extent, to be immune to such
things. The iron collar about her neck was an additional
discomfort and the chain attached to it, which held her down to
the block, clanked slightly as she moved a little. No. There was
no escape. Neither literally, nor ever from the perpetual
oppressive sense of captivity. This was emphasized over and over
again, down to the smallest detail, to all members of the Bey's
harem. Collars, chains and manacles were part of everyday life.
if someone had said, seven or eight months previously, that such
things could be) Gillian Fraser would have laughed them to scorn.
This, she would have said, is the twentieth century.. but please
don't tell me fairly-tale stories about the Middle East of some
centuries ago. Then, she might have been prepared to admit, women
could have been held as slaves for the pleasure of some
potentate. But times had changed. Such things could no longer
happen.
That indeed would have been Gillian Fraser's attitude if ever
such an outlandish subject had been raised. However, in little
more than six months, she had learned----and learned the hard
way-that her attitude and opinion was utterly wrong. For Gillian
Fraser-a nubile twenty-five-year-old English girl-was as much the
plaything and slave of a potentate as countless other women had
been in earlier, less enlightened times.
Except that, in her case, one might well say that matters were
worse. For, in bygone days, It was more natural for a woman to
accept servitude, whether she b white or coloured. In Gillian's
case, however, she had known the emancipation and freedom of the 
twentieth century, and had had to learn... and was still
learning... to submit and obey.
As to how Gillian Fraser came to be in this unfortunate
situation, we shall soon see. Suffice to say that, as our story
opens, we find her chained naked in one of the punishment cells
of the harem of the Bey Hamil Aroun.
The pitch blackness was suddenly brightly illuminated and Gillian
blinked in the glare. It was startling, but one could not say it
was unexpected, for, as Gillian knew, it was part of the regime
in the punishment cells, that one was kept in alternate spells of
darkness and bright light This was something that the slave-
mistress Farida had instituted within the last two months.
Now, because of the large wall mirrors placed, facing each other
at the top and bottom ends of the block, Gillian could see
herself, See herself in all her wretchedness and humiliation.
There were her distraught features staring back hopelessly at her
self. There were the collar and chain. And there was her helpless
naked body, with her hindquarters vividly carrying the stripes
Farida had produced. Another deep sob shook Gillian and she
closed her eyes to hide the visual horror from herself. As she
did So, she knew, nevertheless, it would not be long before she
opened them again. For such is human nature that, if man or women
has been kept in pitch darkness for as little as half an hour
even, the desire to see again the light is overpowering...
whatever one has to look upon. Farida, an artist in cruelty, knew
this. That was why she had instituted this particular regime.
So, inevitably, Gillian opened her eyes and gazed upon herself
and her surroundings. The cell was small and plain. There was
nothing in it apart from her own body and the block to which she
was chained. The walls, except where the mirrors were fixed, were
of grey stone. The floor was of plain, polished planks. The door,
of heavy, dark timbered oak, was dungeon-like in appearance with
its solid lock and iron-ring handle.
It is probably understandable that, sometimes, even after over
six months in the harem, it was still difficult for Gillian to
truly comprehend and believe it was her own person she was
looking at It still seemed so impossible that it could be true.
Yet, of course, It was.
To try and help herself, to try and stop a kind of madness
overwhelming her, she would say, I em twenty-five, single,
English, born in Cheshire. My parents died when I was at school
and later I went to Chester University where I studied Art. Later
I became a minor, but promising actress in Repertory Theater, had
a number of quite nice boy friends and several interesting
proposals of marriage---all of which I turned down, for personal
reasons.
That is the real me, she would insist.  Not this naked, helpless,
whipped creature who is at the mercy of forces vile beyond
belief.  Forces unbelievable under any normal, civilized
circumstances. And I must hold on to that image of the real me,
before it entirely fades. For sometimes, it almost did disappear
and she grew very frightened.
Surely, she told herself, I cannot remain a harem slave for ever!
surely, some benign fate will intervene! It must! Oh God, yes...
she would be rescued. Somehow... yes, yes... somehow something
would happen that would restore her to the kind of life she had
once known and considered as her birthright..
But, as she gazed at herself in the mirrors, it did indeed seem a
forlorn hope. There was only one thing certain at that moment,
and that was that she would soon be feeling the rod again. Once
more, she pressed her palms gently to the burning weals... and
hated Fate, coupled with the name of Farida, with a deep, black
bitterness.
Gillian's nerves flared and her body shook as she heard the key
turn in the lock. Surely it could not yet be time? Surely she had
not lost several hours by Sleeping? For, agonising as waiting for
punishment was (as Farida naturally intended) when the actual
moment came for it, one wished the period of waiting could be
extended just a little longer! Absurd, but true.
Then, with a mixture of anguish and relief, Gillian saw one of
the eunuchs enter. It was Kaled, a giant coal-black Nubian. His
plump, but muscled body glistened with oil in the harsh light
and, as was customary, he wore nothing but a brief, white
triangular loin cloth. In earlier days, he had quite often been
instructed to chastise Gillian  Indeed, when at the very outset
she had made a futile at-tempt to escape, Kaled had been
deputized by the then slave mistress to whip her with
considerable severity. He had done so... and Gillian had never
forgotten it. Naturally, one was not meant to forget such an
experience, so one did not attempt the futility of escape again.
However, since Farida's arrival some three months previously,
Kaled exercised no more such functions. It seemed that, in
Gillian's case, as with some others, she preferred to act for
herself!
Thus, one might say, Gillian knew Kaled quite well. And, as with
the other slave girls, there was a bizarre kind of bond between
them and the eunuchs. They were not classed as slaves, but they
were certainly servants of the Bey... and Farida was not beyond
having them whipped if she felt they had not carried out her
orders satisfactorily.
Having closed the door, Kaled ambled forward. Momentarily, his
white teeth bared as he looked down at her. In his own way, one
might almost say he was 'fond' of her. But that did not mean he
would not do his duty when called upon. Mainly for his own sake,
of course.
"K-Kaled... what is it?" asked Gillian, finding her voice
croaking more than she had expected. "It...it is not time?"
The Nubian shook his head almost dolefully. "Two and one half
more hours, white Missie," he said.
Then Gillian saw what he held half hidden behind a tree-trunk
thigh. It was a small bucket-like container with some kind of
liquid in it. She shuddered and twisted round to Kaled whose hand
was already going into the container. "No...no, please, Kaled...
no," said Gillian. "Please... leave it... just one hour... I beg
you..." With a eunuch, Gillian knew, there was some faint
possibility of mercy or alleviation. Some were softer than
others, even at their own peril..
From the container, Kaled took out a square of dripping-wet white
gauze which was heavily impregnated with salt. "Mistress... she
give me the order," said Kaled. "And she mean it, I know. You
want me to get a whipping as well as you?"
Although inwardly Gillian sensed It was hopeless, she made a
final plea. "K-Kaled. . . just...a half an hour! How could she
know?"
It was a ridiculous thing to say, and both knew it. Farida might
make a 'spot' inspection at any time. Not surprisingly, he shook
his head again and came forward with the square of wet-salt
gauze. And, despite Gillian's frantic twistings. he laid. it
firmly over her weal striped hindquarters, pressing it down so
that it clung tight to the cleft and lush curves of her bottom.
Gillian screamed hoarsely. squirming and kicking as the salt bit
into her fresh wounds. Instantly. the intensity of the smarting,
burning pain had been doubled if not tripled... and Gillian knew
from experience that it would be a long time before it ebbed to
any noticeable degree. In addition, her flesh would be even more
agonisingly tender when Farida came to use the rod on her again.
For a moment, the black hate in Gillian for Farida almost
overwhelmed the pain. The she devil! Oh God . . . was any woman
ever so inhuman to others!
Kaled surveyed his handiwork in a matter-of-fact sort of way. He
was quite used to such sights and sounds. Then he noticed that
Gillian's hands were free. That would never do under such
circumstances. With a perfunctory efficiency, he shackled each
one in turn to the iron collar about Gillian's neck, seemingly
unperturbed by the heaving sobs that now racked the girl. If
Allah decreed a woman must serve and suffer, so be it! He
shrugged and began to turn away.
"Missie Gillian be a good, good girl, eh?" he said' with whatever
compassion there was in him. "Then she don't get whippings, eh?
Easy... Yes?"
In her pain and misery, Gillian heard the door thud closed and
the key turn in the lock. She was alone again... but now with re-
intensified pain. Her head twisted, she bit her lips... but still
the wincing came. And her shapely bottom kept on twitching and
squirming as the stab-stabbing torment continued relentlessly.
That bitch! That vile inhuman bitch! It was not enough that she
would be flogged without mercy... there had to be this. . . this.
. .too!  For a moment, it seemed as if her heart must burst with
hatred for the woman who had her so utterly in her power!
Gillian sobbed herself into a half stupor of misery and despair.
And never for one moment did the smarting, burning pain seem to
relent.. Stab... stab! Oh God. it was almost like feeling the rod
itself! No. That was not so, she told herself with a trembling
inner horror. No. That she would truly learn, yet again, in
little more than two hours as she writhed in agony as Farida
wielded the whip lashing instrument!
Chapter Two
Though It was fairly late in the evening, Farida was still at
work. But since her work was a pleasure, this was really no
hardship. She sat at the large, modern-looking desk in B fairly
plainly furnished room that served as part study, part 'office'.
At one side of the desk was a large inter-communications phone
system; on the other was B smallish TV screen. This was the
closed-circuit television system which enabled her to view what
was going on in certain sections of her 'domain' at any moment
she wished.
Her garb was simple and one she quite customarily wore. It
consisted of a pair of high-heeled, red leather boots of calf
length. . . . a short, pleated skirt of white leather... and a
kind of blouse-jacket of red leather. The leather of her skirt
and blouse-jacket was of extremely fine quality, very thin and
soft and almost had the appearance of some other material Her
only other garments were a brief bra, and pantie set and these
were of the same quality leather, but even finer and thinner in
texture. Farida had always found that the wearing of leather
especially next to her skin, gave her the greatest pleasure.  And
here It may he briefly said that Farida wore various colour
combinations of this outfit. . . , but always the same three
colours. They were red, white and black and she could choose any 
two combinations from the three colours. This even applied to the
small, slim, personal switch of plaited leather she always had
with her, held by a loop at her belt or wrist Thus, at that
moment, since the dominant colour she wore was red, the switch,
which lay by her on the desk, was of red tight-plaited leather,
with a handle-grip of white leather. And as can he seen, the
switch might he white or black with contrasting handle.
A red-claw finger nail went out and flipped a switch on the
intercom. There was a faint buzzing sound which came through the
open door which led to the more luxuriously furnished main
apartment beyond. It was to summon one of the two harem slave-
girls who had been assigned to attend personally upon Farida in
her private quarters. There were always two of these, each girl
in turn - each girl in the harem. that is - doing a stint of
forty eight hours. Since there were something over one hundred
girls and women in the Bey's harem, thin duty would come around
something like every three months . . . and was not one that was
exactly looked forward to! of course, if she wished, Farida could
dismiss a girl from her personal service or extend her period of
duty for as long as she wished.
The girl who came through the door was a dusky-skinned young
beauty of some seventeen years. Since she wore only a pair of
high-heeled shoes and a small, lacy white apron, her young charms
were well displayed. She had high, apple-round breasts and it was
noticeable that her body hair had been completely shaved. Thus
the plump-fleshy smoothness of her mound and the beginning of her
slit were revealed. This absence of body hair applied to all the
girls in the harem. - . and ft was carried out expressly at Bey
Hamil Aroun's wish. He liked a girl to have her cunt well and
cleanly displayed and not, as it might be, hidden in a mass of
curly hairs.
Farida glanced at the girl who made a one-kneed, low obedience
bow before her. She recognized her but could not immediately
place a name to her. . . she was aware that the girl must have
just come on duty as they were changed at around that hour.
"Your name?" she demanded, eyeing the girl in her customary
severe way.
"Nerene, Miss," came the immediate answer in a respectful tone.
"Ah, yes, Nerene," nodded Farida, recalling the girl's arrival
some two months before.
Like the majority of the pretty, young coffee-coloured girls in
the harem, she was from Algeria The really black girls were
mainly from Abyssinia, or Ethiopia as it is now more commonly
called. The proportions of differing colours in the harem was
something like thirty blacks, sixty half-coloured and twenty
whites. And though quite a number of the half-coloured were
nearly white, Farida had plans for a considerable increase in the
real white girls stock.
It was unfortunate that the two first categories were not so
difficult to acquire whereas the latter posed special problems
and could be expensive. Not that money was a very important
factor. There was no shortage of it the Bey's exchequer.
"Have you been honoured by the Bey?" she inquired.
By 'honoured', Farida meant summoned to him and submit to him and
service him in whatever way he demanded.
"Yes, Miss," came the answer. The big sloe eyes flickered as she
spoke.
This one, thought Farida, is made for the harem. Would have been
in any age. And since she could not recall having had to punish
the girl, that probably meant she had taken to her new life
without a great deal of effort However, that did not mean that
Nerene might not have been punished for minor offenses by one of
Farida's two assistants. . . Miss Kramer and Miss Frankel, two
German women in their forties whom Farida had brought on to her
staff only a few weeks after her arrival to take charge of Bey
Hamil Aroun's harem.
"Fetch me a Vermouth, Nerene," ordered Farida She watched the
girl curtsey and turn and liked the look of what she saw. The
girl was not only young, but slimly shapely and she moved well.
It will be interesting to see, she thought, if she finds it more
difficult to 'honour' me than the Bey. Farida, who was as
thorough-going a lesbian as you could find, felt the familiar
little thrills of pleasure go though her at the idea.
Farida glanced at her watch and then at a large volume open on
her desk. The pages were divided up into hours of the day, with
space for notes along-side. She saw that a girl was due to be
taken off the Treadmill in half an hour's time and, if her weary
limbs had not turned it the stipulated number of times (which
could be meter-recorded), she would have to be punished. However,
Miss Kramer or Miss Frankel could deal with that Another hour and
a half after that, there was Gillian Farida felt another thrill.
She would certainly deal with her personally!
The red-nailed finger flipped another switch and, after a brief
interval, a guttural woman's voice answered. "Yes, Miss Farida?"
"Miss Frankel. Please be so good as to go to the Treadmill in
Punishment Room No.3 in half an hour's time. If the girl there -
her name is Lota -has not achieved her quota, I want her taken
off and given five strokes of the strap. A medium weight will do.
After that, put her back on again for a further half hour."
"Very well, Miss Farida." The voice had a smug contented tone
about it "And if there is no improvement at the end of the extra
half hour?"
"Repeat the strapping," said Farida briskly. "Then bring her to
me at ten tomorrow, when I will give the matter further
attention."
"Very good..." The intercom machine clicked silent
That gives me early two full hours to relax reflected Farida. 
Barring the unexpected, of course. And I think I shall enjoy
having Nerene relax me. She is a very pretty young thing. Farida
stretched her arms luxuriously. Very pretty indeed.
At that moment, Nerene, returned, bearing a cut-glass goblet in a
salver. She came forward with a natural seductiveness, eyes half
lowered in respect - and dread - for the young woman she was.
Serving had the power of life and death over her. Young? Yes. . .
for, in fact, Farida was no more than three years older than
Nerene, being twenty. How, at that age, she came to be in her
position, we shall . shortly See.
The dusky girl put the salver and glass on the desk by Farida and
turned to leave. Farida glanced at the pale liquid and her dark
green, slating cat's eyes glinted.
"Nerene," she said, halting the girl in her tracks, "you were
instructed before you were assigned to my personal service, upon
likes and dislikes.. . my general wishes. . . the routine? In
some detail?"
"Yes, Miss," answered Nerene, in a low voice.  For many hours she
had assiduously studied a type-written sheet of such
instructions, supplied by Miss Frankel.
"Then you would know that I always have ice in . my Vermouth..."
A faint tremor ran through Nerene. "I. . . I beg p-pardon, Miss,"
she answered. "I... I forgot. There was so much to learn...
"So you forgot, did you, girl?" said Farida acidly. She stood up
and her hand went to the white grip of the switch of plaited red
leather. "Then you will have to be reminded not to forget, won't
you?"
Nerene's sloe eyes widened in fear. It was bad enough to be under
the control of such a slave- mistress. To be so close to her, in
her presence as a personal attendant, was even more terrifying.
She had been dreading It. Perhaps even more than other duties she
had to perform.
Farida moved round the desk and the slim switch swished
menacingly. Though it was by no means a heavy instrument, it cut
most painfully. . . having a core of hard, supple whalebone
around which the thin strips of leather were so tightly plaited.
"Get your bottom up, girl," she said.
Nerene knew better than to delay on such an order. Prevarication,
resistance, disobedience. . . anything of that nature only led to
punishment far, far worse. That she knew, that she had witnessed.
She knelt at one before the desk and abjectly thrust up her
plumply rounded bottom.
It was a fact, saw Farida, that the girl had not been chastised
recently. This, in fact, was only possible to see If one were at
close quarters when any chastisement had been relatively mild. .
. and this, it can here he said, was on account of the 'cosine-
tic applications' employed regularly in the harem. This enabled
all but the heaviest weals and the like to be adequately
disguised or hidden so that the flesh presented a more attractive
appearance than it would have done otherwise. These ready made
'cosmetics' . . . which consisted of a very light neutral cream
followed by the lightest of dusting powder... were applied every
morning and there-after as often as was thought necessary
throughout the day. The dusting powder was in every shade, to
match perfectly any shade of skin, from the darkest ebony black
to the creamy white. Thus, any harem girl would present a more
pleasing, un-scarred appearance to the Bey. -- or anyone else...
except under close examination or after a whipping of
considerable severity. This 'cosmetic' treatment, which had the
Bey's approval, was one of Farida's more recent innovations.
For a few moments, she stood and studied the kneeling young
victim, liking what she saw all the more. The thighs were
straight and firm, the buttocks neatly rounded, the young cunt
lips pouted Prettily in the cleft. Naturally, It was a spectacle
that was very familiar to Farida, but one of which she never,
never grew tired!
The polished red boots moved, the six-inch spike heels sinking
into the carpet. Then the switch whistled high-pitched through
the air and bit thinly across the curves of the girl's tender
nates, raising a fine pink-red sliver of fiery pain.
Nerene gave a gasping cry and squirmed, involuntarily moving
forward a foot or two on tier knees . . . her hands coming back
instinctively to clasp at her buttocks. They did not remain there
for more than a fraction of a second . . for Nerene knew that
such a move of attempted relief or protection was strictly
forbidden under the circumstances.
She is not only young, she is pretty inexperienced at this sort
of thing, thought Farida as she laid on the switch again. Again
Nerene squealed and squirmed at the biting pain... and again her
hands flew back momentarily.
"If you move your hands again, Nerene," said Farida coolly, "I
shall have you taken to one of the punishment Rooms and properly
thrashed. Now, get your bottom well up, and keep it up, girl!"
Nerene's fingers clawed into the carpet as she obeyed the order.
She knew the words were not just a threat If she disobeyed them,
her punishment could well be doubly or triply severe. There came
that dreaded whistling sound again . . . and then the streak of
liquid fire. Thin, but so deep burning. She yelped and squirmed
but her efforts at self-control were not in vain.
Still kneeling with bottom thrust up, she then endured two more
cuts in the manner required, making five in all. By the standards
of the regime in the harem of Bey Aroun, that was not
particularly severe.  All the same, as can be imagined, It was
quite adequately painful enough for Nerene.
Clean-limbed, white leather skirt swinging, Farida strode back
around the desk, tossing the switch back onto it There was a look
of intense satisfaction on her sallow, sharp-featured young face.
The fault had been trivial, but it was a good maxim to impose
one's authority at the outset with a girl one expected far more
from.
"Now you will go and put some ice in my glass, Nerene," she said,
re-seating herself.
"Y-Yes, ... yes ... Miss ..." said Nerene, getting to her feet,
wincing with pain.  Not unnaturally, she had already formed the
opinion that her spell of duty with the slave-mistress would be
as unpleasant as her imagination had let her believe. . .
Farida's thin lips stretched in a sadistic smile as she watched
the girl hurry from the room bearing salver and glass. Her eyes
were fixed on the thin weals that snaked over the bare buttocks
which undulated and quivered across her victim's hind-quarters.
She did not think she would have much trouble with Nerene,
whatever she demanded of the young harem girl- And it was going
to be both exciting and relaxing to feel those inexperienced lips
at work.
Chapter Three
The light in Gillian's cell went off and she was attuned to pitch
blackness. Now she no longer had to observe her own pain and
degradation. Now there was only sensation. The sensation of being
chained naked and helpless. The sensation of unrelenting pain
from the weals raised by Farida's rod, intensified by the
application of the salt-gauze She sobbed weakly and strove to
summon her strength.
She was thankful for every minute that passed because It brought
her that much nearer the end of her present torment At the same
time she was hideously aware that It brought Farida's return one
minute nearer. That was typical of the kind of mental and
physical cruelty Farida devised.
Life, thought Gillian Fraser had been appalling enough before her
arrival, some three or so months before. To be an enslaved member
of a harem was appealing enough, and some of the whippings she
had received from the eunuchs for her rebellions and disobedience
would burn in her memory for ever. But, once having submitted to
Fate - and the Bey life had been just conceivably tolerable.
Provided one accepted one's role as a plaything of a paunchy,
middle-aged lecher, one could survive. Nothing else was demanded
of one in the way of effort A harem girl lived in comfortable
surroundings, was well fed, had a life of ease, with little to do
but ensure that one kept oneself looking attractive for the few
times when the Bey would require her presence. In those days, in 
charge of the harem, had been two middle aged 'wives' of the Bey,
Once the initiation was over and a girl had submitted, they were
not very strict over day to day affairs. They had a lazy
indolence themselves, despite the fact that they were supposed to
be in charge of harem discipline Gillian could remember being
slapped on the face or the bottom for what was termed
'surliness', 'rudeness', 'laziness' or 'western arrogance'. She
had even been whacked with a light paddle and also caned But the
cane too had been light and not laid on with any great venom.
All that had changed with The arrival of Farida. Gillian had not
been aware of it initially, but it transpired that Farida was the
daughter of the Bey She had been expansively educated in England
and then at a Finishing School in Switzerland. With the Bey's
money behind her, every kind of career and opportunity had been
opened to her. But she had opted to return to the hinterland of
Saudi Arabia and become her own father's slave mistress.
Although, again, Gillian did not know it, it was something that
Farida had dreamed of ever since she had reached the age of
puberty. She was not only a lesbian, but a sadist from her toes
to her fingertips and had sense enough to realize that she had
all the means to satisfy her basic desires. Why then should she
do anything else?
At first, the Bey had been surprised and puzzled by her request,
but, since she was his firstborn child and the apple of his eye,
he quickly acceded to her wishes. Moreover, since they were of
the same flesh and blood - and both naturally cruel - he soon
understood her wishes. And he was more than content to give her a
free hand.
'You won't regret it, father," Farida had said. "I shall ensure,
in many different ways, that you will get more pleasure from your
women than you have ever known before."
"And you will get pleasure too, my darling daughter?" the Bey had
smiled.
"Doubtless," Farida had answered. "In my own ways. But, please,
father, I would wish that you do not consider me as your
daughter, but simply as your slave-mistress. Do you understand
me?"
Again the Bey had smiled and had indulgently conceded. "So be
it," he had said.
As has been said, Gillian - like others - had not been aware of
the situation but had discovered it' and its import, by degrees.
From the moment of her arrival, life in the harem was utterly
different.  Gone were the lazy days and the mild punishments for
any 'naughtiness,. In no time, all knew what true discipline
meant They knew too what it meant to work and sweat, apart from
simply pleasing, their, master, as before. They learned of
humiliations, degradations and torments hitherto unknown in their
lives.
Here it must be said that Gillian (and the other white western
girls, of course) , was in a particularly Unfortunate position.
For, when in Europe, Farida had received a number of slights and
snubs from men and women, on account of her slight 'touch of the
tar brush' as they laughingly called it behind her back. That was
something Farida had ample opportunity to revenge in her new
position! She enjoyed making any woman obey and submit... but,
above all, a pure white woman!
Like Gillian. . . 
In the blackness of her cell, In the blackness of her spirit,
Gillian received some of those early days after Farida's arrival.
As It was, she considered no woman could have met a worse fate
than herself --and come to some kind of terms with it. But then,
of course, she had not met Farida.
The old regime had vanished like snow in the sun. The two ex-
wives were dismissed at once and Miss Kramer and Miss Frankel
were Installed. Middle-aged, brute German women with strong arms.
Without the same power, they were as sadistic as Farida herself.
Beyond this, the whole of the harem had been immediately
reconstructed and re-furbished.  A series of Punishment Rooms and
Cells were installed and equipped. A whole new regime of conduct
and duties was laid down. Set out in writing indeed' so that all
were cognisant of it.
The petty paddles . and lightness of old were laughingly
discarded and a whole new battery of corrective equipment was
brought in. The whip had always been In use, but primarily
reserved for stubborn cases at the outset of their new life. At
once Farida introduced new and more varied kind of whips.
Beyond that, a whole new range of corrective instruments were
made available. The slim, 24-inch cane became about the lightest
you could find. . . . and they ranged up to some four feet long
and as thick as the little finger. Single, double and triple-
thonged straps joined the armoury, as well as a variety of the
birches. Some of the latter were composed of the customary twigs'
others of thin slivers of whalebone. In addition a number of
bondage and retaining devices were introduced . . . devices of
iron and wood that could be applied to many parts of the body.
All the members of the harem were quickly made aware of the new
state of things, and there was no one or nowhere they could turn
to for means of escaping them. Farida was in control.
In the first week, she had interviewed every member of the harem
personally. Not surprisingly, in view of her penchant, she took
longer over the white members like Gillian than with some others.
They were made instantly and -fully aware of her authority.. .
and of what she expected from them in the future. . . right from
the outset.
Gillian herself would never forget the cruel thrashing she had
received at that first meeting, purely because, as Farida said,
'she had a look of arrogance on her English face'. Two of the
eunuchs had seized her -- at a sign from the newly-arrived slave
mistress  and she had beer held down by them over the curving end
of a 'love couch', which happened to he standing in the apartment
being used at the time by Farida for these Initial interviews.
Thus, for the first time, but by no means the last, Gillian was
forced to present her shapely hind-quarters naked for Farida's
attention. It was all the more bitter for, Gillian to have to do
so, in view of Farida's relative youth and the fact that Gillian
sensed she gained the very greatest pleasure from doing what she
did, especially to women like herself.
Mature, western women... with pride as well as beauty.
Since none of Farida's newly ordered equipment had arrived, she
used one of the light 27-inch canes which had previously been
employed by the two ex-wives of the Bey. However, as Farida gave
her ten full-blooded cuts with it, it was, to say the least, an
impressive and memorable occasion for Gillian. previously, one
would have had to be pretty naughty to have gotten as many as
five strokes   . . and they would have been laid on with but half
the venom and strength that Farida used. Hate and rage filled her
being almost to the same extent as the pain! What was done to her
was simply for 'looking arrogant'!
Little wonder then, that, as Gillian sobbed and squirmed
afterwards at Farida's feet - striving to stem the pain a little
by pressing her hands to her bare nates - that she was a little
slow to kiss the rod. From above, Farida commanded it as a sign
that 'her actions did not match her arrogant looks'. Half-blinded
by her tears, racked with bitterness and pain , Gillian had
momentarily twisted her head away rather than towards the
extended cane.
For that piece of 'disobedience', she had been picked up again by
the two eunuchs and summarily slung back over the end of the
couchþthere to receive five additional strokes from Farida!
Bereft of will and pride, Gillian was almost pathetically quick
to kiss the rod after that . . . to show that she was not all
arrogant, but very, very sub-missive. But even in those moments
of mental and physical torment, she had, in the back of her mind,
hated herself for her 'weakness' by behaving so abjectly.
In one way or another, sometimes in similar fashion Farida had
impressed herself forcibly upon every member of the Bey's harem.
Every one was aware that there was a new force in the place, both
dynamic and cruel, and that life would be very  different from
then on.
The fears of all were reinforced when, he built and the new
instruments of correction arrived, were displayed and put to use.
Here, it may he said Farida was able to act with such speed
because she knew exactly what she wanted.  During the last six
months of her Swiss finishing school, she had planned it all . .
. had ordered the new equipment and materials she would need and
even recruited her two German assistants.  She had arrived to
install herself in the harem with her heart and spirit
overflowing with joy and an anticipation.  She was at last in a
position to satisfy fully all those lesbian and sadistic
deviations which had been building up in her through her teens.
Gillian was but one of many who lay that night in torment and in
dread of her. But perhaps Gillian had more reason than most for
her apprehension.  For she had become aware that she was one
marked out as a 'special case' by Farida... from whom the maximum
satisfaction and pleasure were going to be obtained.
She shuddered involuntarily when the light came on in the cell
again.  Another half an hour had passedþ and there was but an
hour to go before Farida's arrival.  Oh God! Oh God' pity me,
thought Gillian, They say that If you pray hard enough for a
thing, it will happen.  Then, Lord, somehow, make her spare me
this time.  Please... please! Make her lose her reason. Best of
all, make her die!
It was the kind of prayer Gillian had uttered many times
before... and never had it been answered. She lay there in silent
wretchedness and dread, looking at herself in the facing mirrors
from time to time Since the salt gauze covered her hindquarters,
she could no longer see her weals. But that same salt gauze
certainly ensured that she felt them unrelentingly!
No use praying, she thought with bitter despair. You will be
punished again, Gillian Fraser. Then, when the moment suits her,
you will make the ultimate and worst submission of all.  The sex
submission to Farida herself.
Gillian could not stop herself from shuddering with revulsion as
she thought of it. All her natural instincts as well as what left
of her pride cried out against it
Should anyone be surprised that, when the demand was first made
to her, she had involuntarily cried out against it. . turned
away... and refused? And that her refusal, that act of the most
'flagrant disobedience' as Farida had termed it, was the reason
for her presence in that Punishment Cell at that moment!
The minutes continued to tick away.. .
Farida was much enjoying the spell of 'relaxation' she had
decided to take before the 'duty' of dealing with Gillian Nerene,
the dusky young girl attending on her, gave her no trouble... no
doubt largely because she had a taste of what lay In store for
herself she did.
At the outset, the girl was frightened and It was obvious to
Farida that what she had to do was by no means to her natural
liking. It repelled her more than having to submit to the middle-
aged Bey. That, however, did not lessen Farida's pleasure. If
anything, It added to It.
"Strip me. .."
Farida had given the order as she stood In the center of her
luxurious boudoir with its huge, ornately decorated four-poster
bed. Nerene was puzzled... hesitant. Could the slave-mistress
really mean it? Farida had emphasized that she did by giving the
girl a cut across the buttocks with her switch. A few moments
later, nude but for her high-heeled boots, she stood, legs a
little astride, over Nerene, the switch still flickering to and
fro, slightly but menacingly. Nerene, on her knees, felt her hair
grasped and her head jerked back.
"Now, pretty slave," said Farida, "I think you may as well guess
what you have to do..."
Inexperienced, and unused to such unnatural demands, Nerene
nevertheless did guess. The slave-mistress' sex, thrusting
blatantly before and above her, indeed left little room for
doubt!
Fortunately for her, unlike Gillian, she did not cry out in
protest and turn away. Maybe she did not feel quite as strongly
about it. But, more likely, it was because her attitude to
slavery was different from that of Gillian's The idea of slavery
for women was not so alien to one of her race and breeding. Had
it not been part of the Middle Eastern mores since times
immemorial? Thus, once in the harem, she had accepted the fact of
it. . . and all it implied. And that was, when one was a slave,
one obeyed and submitted to one's mist- or one's master, whatever
they did demand. Beyond that even.
She accepted punishment as a normal end natural consequence if
she did not
It was in this respect, of course, that the black girls and the
half-coloured ones in the harem differed most from Gillian and
the other white western women there.
Trembling in case she failed, Nerene had followed her mistress to
the huge bed and was soon carrying out the instructions given to
her. Farida, need it be said, was not so foolish as to expect any
new girl to know what she wanted or to approach perfection on
first occasion. She would only expect It once the girl had been
properly trained in pleasing her.
It was not difficult at all, at first for Nerene. The slave
mistress merely demanded that she massage the firm, supple,
olive-skinned body. She was told after a while to pay particular
attention to the apple-round breasts, feeling the nipples quickly
firm as Farida lay back with eyes dosed, breathing deeply and
regularly. After some time, Farida turned over and Nerene
concentrated on the smooth back, the rounded buttocks and the
tapering thighs.
It is not so bad, Nerene thought.
Then Farida spoke. "Now get your nose into my bottom and lick..."
she said.
Another order. Another order that had to be obeyed. But this time
not so easy. All the same, Nerene did not hesitate long. Fighting
down her natural reluctance, she moved between Farida's now
parted thighs, bent her head, and buried her face between the
soft female buttock cleft She felt the shudder of pleasure it
gave her mistress as she began to lick. At first she licked
tentatively. Everything was strange and abhorrent to her. The
scent . . the sensations... But she was a slave. She had to do
it. paramount in her mind was the knowledge that she had to
please, whatever her own sensations and reactions might be. It
was not long. . . after further commands... before her tongue was
penetrating deep into Farida's cunt, while her nose remained
pressed slavishly against the anus.
Farida found Nerene's inexperienced but submissive efforts highly
enjoyable.  She knew the effort they cost the girl and this
enhanced her pleasure.  Lying there with the young tongue working
and working, her lust mounted quickly. when the thought came to
her that it would not be long before Gillian was placed as Nerene
was, Farida felt such a sudden inner excitement that she spent
herself with a long, quivering tremor running through her body. 
Little moaning sounds came from her mouth. pressed into the soft-
silken cushions.  What a joy it was to have such power.  Such
power to give oneself such pleasure!
She turned over on to her back and summoned Nerene to her side.
At that moment, she felt as near to an 'affection' for the young
girl as was possible in her perverted make-up. She caressed the
breasts, the buttocks and the cunt of the young creature she so
utterly possessed. Nerene, was utterly complaisant, trembling
like a trapped animal, dark eyes wide.
"That was quite good for a beginning, my pretty slave," said
Farida. Firmly, insistently, she put her fingers over Nerene's
hands, then began to pluck the girls protective, shielding palms
away from her sweet young breasts.
The girl had soon realized that it was best to submit herself to
whatever treatment the slave mistress had in store for her. She
suddenly relaxed her body completely, allowing Farida to pluck
and pull at her nipples to her heart's desire.
As her fingers caressed Nerene's hard buds, now stroking, now
flicking with her sharp nails at the elongated teats, Farida
repeated.
"Is It not more pleasing to submit to your mistress than anything
else?"
Nerene did not know how to answer. Would It be dangerous or not
to say she preferred the Bey? Thus, she fell back on a neutral
formula. "I  I am a slave, Miss," she said. "It Is my d-duty to
obey. . .,"
Farida was satisfied with the answer. She crushed Nerene's face
to her breasts again. "Suck my nipples... gently..." she
whispered. "And then, when I tell you, go down there again and
please me even more."
Her, commands were obeyed. Despite everything, Nerene could not
but feel a sense of relief that she was pleasing and satisfying
her all-powerful mistress. Was that not the most important thing
of all?
Farida felt the girl's mouth close softly over her own breast
drawing the nipple deeply between her lips.
Immediately, she increased the activity of her fingers: pulling
Nerene's tit as far away from the girl's breast as it would
stretch; feeling a strange, unsettling desire seize her as the
liquid heat of Nerene's tongue licked arousingly over her
imprisoned nipple.
Then Farida let her fingers stray around Nerene's midriff to her
bare briefly, Pressing delicately into the soft flesh. And
feeling the girl's shaved crotch nestling into her knuckles.
The slave girl's bottom was warm against Farida's thighs.   She
felt the cheeks thrusting into the tops of her legs, rubbing
fleshily the globes jutting sexily and persistently as Nerene
arced her loins away from the probing fingers . .
But Farida slipped them expertly into the moist slit stroking up
and down Its length until her middle and forefinger disappeared
into the hot stickiness of Nerene's cunt itself.
As she felt the two fingers slide tightly into her quim, the
slave girl opened her legs wider her head going to rest on
Farida's shoulder.  She stretched her hands around the slave
mistress' back feeling for the arse cheeks having to work her
fingers beneath her before they could cup and press the full ripe
mounds of flesh.
"She's learning fast. . ." Farida thought with satisfaction. 
After all her methods did give results!
"Now" said Farida when her nipples were strong and her breasts
heaving fast
Nerene slid down and pressed her mouth once again
to the avid female flesh. She kissed and tongued m a way that she
instinctively sensed would give this cruel young woman the most
pleasure.  The sighs and shudders that her efforts evoked were
further evidence that her amateur efforts were by no means
unsuccessful.  For that, Nerene was profoundly grateful for the
memory of the slave mistress's biting switch was still all too
horribly vivid! Farida kept her eyes closed, allowing the girl to
continue with the relaxing treatment of her quim, feeling the
velvet lapping at her cuntlips slowly restoring her to energetic
fitness again preparing her for the next round with the arrogant
English girl.
The slave girl's cheek pressed into the inside of her thigh, one
of her hands resting gently on the hard mound of her crotch the
other softly caressing her right breast. Moving the globe around
and around, the fingers fondling the nipple delightfully.
Oh, what a pleasurable time awaited her, Farida thought dreamily
as she recalled the haughty young English bitch crawling and
begging under the cruel, unrelenting torment of the rod. There
was nothing like pain to subdue the most aggressive and
recalcitrant of these white women who believed themselves of a
better breed simply because of their skin . . .  Oh, she would
learn. . . she would quickly learn who was the mistress there . .
.
Farida returned her attention to the slave girl Nerene curled up
in fetal position between her legs licking, patiently and without
pause into her cunt.
She stretched her hand down and began to stroke the girl's jet
black hair; at the same time gently pushing her face more firmly
against her sex. Nerene glanced up briefly before continuing with
her mouth to quim caressing. Then she drew the folds of outer
cunt skin apart and held the lips open so that her tongue could
gain easy entrance to the secret slit Her tongue sank deeply into
Farida's cunt, running submissively over the slave mistress's
inner lips end up to the thick, erect clitoris where she teased
and tormented for long minutes, licking at the hard button.
Farida was steadily losing control over her herself as Nerene
deliberately gobbled the fullness of her cuntlips into her mouth
and chewed long and hard on the juicy meat, her hot breath
panting between the tickling lips and bringing the girl nearer
and nearer to her climax.
Again, Nerene's tongue sank deeply into the red heart of Farida's
cunt, revolving in a steady circle inside the fantastically soft
inner lips.
With a violent shuddering that possessing her entire body, Farida
felt herself melting into a deep red haze: the tickling, Itching
sensation at her cunt spreading up her stomach, through her
breasts and arms. . . until there wasn't a single inch of her
body which didn't feel intoxicated and delirious with the
mounting orgasm... A furious jetting of her long denied spunk and
the hot bubbling fluid flowed freely into Nerene's waiting
mouth.. .
þDrink . . . drink it all. . ." she cried out frantically
The cruel hands grabbed the girl's head harshly, forcing her to
lap every drop of creamy spunk that spurted from her mistress'
well sucked cunt . . . . But the worst was over. . . the little
slave girl had pleased the domineering Farida Ben Aroun, the
cruel slave mistress of the harem.
Chapter Four
In Gillian's cell, darkness came again. . . and mounting dread.
when the light comes on again She thought, there will he but half
an hour before she arrives. The coldness of hopeless fear mounted
in her and Gillian felt her nates contract involuntarily. The
thought of the terrible rod upon them again, when they were so
agonizingly tender, so fiercely smarting and burning. . . all of
which had been intensified by the salt gauze. As it was intended
to. . I would do anything she asked. Anything. So Gillian told
herself. Anything she asks if only she would spare me . . . I'm
quite defeated... and I know it I will submit completely. With my
mind as well as my body.  Like all the others . . . or nearly all
had already done.
Sudden and bitter tears flowed from Gillian's eyes. It was almost
a relief to have made the inner decision. One could not fight
forever. One could not maintain one's spirits indefinitely
against such horrors. I am a harem slavegirl, Gillian told
herself. That is my Fate, unbelievable as it still might seem.
And Farida is my slave mistress.
After a little while, Gillian stopped crying and felt a little
calmer. It was as if she had passed some crisis point Not much
more than six months ago, I was in England, she thought. It
seemed more like six years. A whole world, a whole life away. who
Would have thought that after a short modeling course, a
promising start on a career in Repertory Theater would have come
to this? If only she had stuck to modeling... But they had told
her she had too much shape for that. They preferred them skinny.
If only she had stuck to simple Repertory instead of being
tempted by a lavish money offer to join a Floor Show and cabaret
group touring Italy and then some of the Levant nightspots. But
with no parents and no real ties in England, the chance seemed
too good to miss. Italy had been great fun . . . and the show
successful. Gillians part in it had been small She acted mainly
as a showgirl and did a little dancing. Occasionally, she
assisted in one of the cabaret acts.
Quite a lot of the time she had had to fend off the approaches
and maulings of the male members of the group. . . until they
learned she wasn't 'easy meat'. There had, however, been a brief,
idyllic affair with a young Italian boatman. He had been the most
virile, yet gentle man Gillian had ever met . . . and that affair
had been the last time she was able to think of anything
connected with sex without a sense of shame and horror.
Beirut and lesser Lebanon ports had followed. All went well till
the manager skipped with the takings, leaving them all stranded. 
Desperate for money to return to Italy, Gillian had adopted
another name and taken a job in a low-grade cabaret in Beirut.
She recalled how the manager had offered her a lot of money if
she would do a full striptease . . . and she had indignantly
refused, slapping his face. . .
One could almost hear mocking laughter now, thought Gillian with
savage bitterness as she lay there, chained, naked. All the same,
she had felt hot with shame at the scantiness of the items she
had to wear . . . and the suggestive remarks of many of the
customers. Still, she had had to have the money and for some
weeks, one nightspot had followed another. Till the final one.
The one where some vile trader in human flesh had given her the
knockout drops.
She had only recovered full sensibility many days later, to find
herself a captive in the harem of the fry Hamil Aroun. That was
the beginning of her servitude, and her decent into ever greater
degradation and which had brought her to her present predicament
No one knows, she thought and no one would really believe, what
can happen to a girl in the twentieth century. The East and its
tradition or slavery was stronger than the West imagined.
Farida had her attendant Nerene lightly bathe her body with warm
scented water. And she felt even more happy and relaxed.
"You are a good girl," she told Nerene, "and if you continue to
behave as you have done, you have little to fear here." Farida
felt an unusual affection for the young half-caste. She might
well become one of her favourites, she thought.
Nerene trembled with servile relief and joy at the thought that
she had been able to please her mistress.  She could ask for
nothing more. This was the kind of servitude that Farida was
determined to get from Gillian And she didn't mind how long it
took.
With Nerene's assistance, she fitted herself into a black leotard
of the finest thin leather. It clung to her young body like a
second skin. Then Nerene laced up a pair of calf length boots
with six-inch spike heels. That done, Farida "tilled up her
quivering pup pet by the hair.
"You want to please your mistress, don't you, Nerene?" she asked.
"Y-yes... M-Miss..." quavered Nerene softly. There could he no
doubt that she really meant It.  She shuddered, prettily naked
and helpless in the grip.
"Good..." said Farida.  She kissed the girl on the mouth and was
happy to feel the Immediate response of the young body against
hers. No reluctance, no recoil. By Allah, thought Farida, this
one is learning fast!  Was it simply fear of the þlash' she
wondered?
Gently her hand ran over the young, rounded bottom, feeling the
thin weals she had raised earlier. What a delightful girl. It was
going to he nice to put a dildo up her and see her reactions. "It
is better to be wise, is it not Nerene?" she said.
"Yes, Miss," breathed Nerene. She suddenly found sufficient
temerity to kiss Farida back, fully on the mouth. "I am honoured
to please you in whatever way you wish. . . " she added when she
broke away.
There was a thin, contented smile on Farida's lips as she moved
away.  Her limbs were strong and moved with an arrogant grace.
Every inch of her spoke the word 'command'. This was her world 
and she knew it "I may send for you later tonight, Nerene," she
said. "Meanwhile I have other matters to at tend to..."
Nerene sank on one knee and bowed her head as the slave-mistress
left the boudoir. She was not only happy that she had escaped
further punishment, but also because she felt, in some strange
way, caught in the fancy of her mistress.
For a slave girl there could be no higher honour. Apart, of
course, from equally pleasing the Bey!
Before returning to her study, Farida poured herself a large
goblet of brandy. She felt supremely relaxed. Then, as her mind
turned ahead, a little cruel pulse of pleasure began to pulse
within be?. Her thin lips parted in a smile.  It was so nice to
know that while she had been having so much pleasure, Gillian
would have been having a counter balancing amount of torment
At that very moment, thought Farida as she drank down the warming
brandy, she would he quaking with dread at the thought of her
imminent arrival. Farida's thin, wide lips bared in a cold smile.
It had been en excellent idea of hers to get Kaled to apply the
salt gauze. That splendidly curvaceous English bottom would he
most exceedingly tender!
Moving to her study, Farida flipped a switch on the intercom. 
Miss Frankel answered within moments.
"Have Kaled bring Gillian to the main Punishment Room," she
ordered. I shall he there in ten minutes.',
"Very well, Miss Farida," came the perfunctory reply.
Farida flipped down the switch and lit a cigarette. She was
beginning to feel a delicious warm glow in her stomach.
Gillian's nerves flared like thin electric wires as she heard the
key turn in the lock. The dreaded moment had at last arrived. It
was a form of release that she had, in a way, ached all the same,
hideously dreaded.  Her head swam and she bit her lips fiercely.
A whimper of pity arose within her. There was one further
desperate hope in her heart, if she shows herself truly and
finally submissive to Farida.  She might yet escape the full
torment.  It was something at least, to cling to in that awful
moment. 
Then, to her surprise, she saw It was Kaled . had entered the
cell and not Farida. He came . . wards her, face impassive, fat
yet muscled black body glistening. Gillian half upturned to him,
big, firm breasts thrusting. In the days when he was a full man,
Kaled would have been more than diverted by this lush female
creature.
"The mistress has sent for you," he announced, removing the salt-
gauze from Gillian's hindquarters,
The fiery red flesh, striped by heavy weals, was startlingly
revealed, It seemed as if one put one's hand within six inches
from it one could have felt the burning heat Of It Kaled gave a
low whistle.
"White Missie is very sore, eh?" he said. "Yes. . . I can see
that. Very sore, very tender." He made a light clucking noise
with his tongue. "Missie is going to wish very much she had been
a good,, obedient girl.  Yes... yes..."It did not need much
imagination to realize what it would be like to feel the rod on
such already tormented flesh!
A shuddering sob went through Gillian as Kaled unshackled the
chain from the ringbolt.  The collar about her neck, to which her
wrists were manacled remained, and a tug on the chain from Kaled
pulled Gillian off the block on which she had lain for five
anguished hours of mental and physical torment,
Now that the moment had at last arrived, she felt weak with
terror. There seemed to he no strength left in her limbs. And
although It was absurd because he could not have helped her even
if he wanted to Gillian pressed herself dose to Kaled's strong
black limbs and whimpered a final plea.
"P-please . . p-p-please, Kaled . . don't take me to . . t-to
her! Oh God, no. . . anything. . . a-anywhere. . . p-please. . .
Please!"
The black Kaled simply shrugged. He had been pleaded with plenty
of times before. It was natural. He could understand it He felt
neither any particular feelings of sympathy nor of sadism, It was
just his job.
"Get up, Missie," he said, giving another tug on, the chain so
that the collar cut cruelly into Gillian's neck. "You got to come
to the mistress right now. . . and you know she don't like to he
kept waiting..."
Perhaps it was that knowledge which gave Gillian the incentive to
gather the strength to stagger upright As she did so, she cried
out loud, wincing and shuddering. The skin of her nates seemed to
he stretched taut and it was a torment even to move. All the
same, she did so. . . following at the end of the chain Kaled
held, led like an animal.
Just before they left the cell, Kaled opened his hand, In it lay
a small pinkish coloured capsule. He turned and extended it to
Gillian whose head Went down with an automatic motion and her
lips picked up the capsule rather as a horse takes sugar.
This pill was yet another innovation of Farida's. It was a
powerful, quick acting kind of nerve stimulant and strengthened.
The purpose of it was cruelly simple. It enabled the taker to
endure more pain for longer.. before Nature must finally
intervene and bring insensibility from fainting.
******
The main Punishment Room was long and high vaulted, rather like a
large gymnasium. Indeed, in view of the number of varied wood and
leather contraptions there were about, it looked something like a
gymnasium too. However, the many chains, manacles, ringbolts and
the like.   as well as the racks of different instruments of
correction... quickly indicated that it had a quite different
purpose.
Gillian was led in and, as always when she entered that dreaded
place, her stomach seemed to turn to water. She had already
learned the meaning of true suffering There.
A long minute passed, during which Gillian prayed that in some
way the floor might open up and swallow her. I must show her, she
kept on telling herself, that now I really do submit Really. Not
halfway as before... but with my mind and spirit as well as my
body. I must show her that I am truly her slave. Quickly, Gillian
checked the customary surge of bitterness at the idea that rose
inside her. There must no longer be bitterness. Nothing but
acceptance. Willing acceptance, one must think of it as such. The
'honour' of serving!
Submit, submit, submit.. . Gillian kept on saying to herself, as
if by doing so she would be in some way helped to do so. In the
full fashion demanded.
Then a door at the far end opened and, the next moment, Farida
came striding across the polished wood floor. Her long limbs were
surmounted by the tight V of her leotard, the Inevitable switch
(this one of black plaited leather), dangled almost negligently
from her right wrist. Around the high vaulted chamber, the sound
of her click clacking heels echoed with an almost sinister
menace. How many slavegirls had not heard that sound, just
Gillian did, with shivering dread.
"Ah, thank you, Kaled," said Farida, coming to a halt before
them. . . hands on hips, legs a little astride. Her cat eyes
glinted and there was a thin, almost bony look about her hard
features, "You may unchain her now..."
Gillian, who had made the customary, one knee, bending curtsy,
stood meekly as Kaled unshackled her wrists and then took off her
iron collar. Having done so, the eunuch moved away to one wall
and stood there impassive, with arms folded. He would only be
called upon when Gillian was required to be secured again or if 
most unlikely  she resisted. Such resistance one encountered, of
course, from the new girls... but only until they realized what
additional suffering it entailed.
"As I told you, girl," said Farida, eyeing her victim with
sadistic relish, "I intend to teach you the true meaning of
respect and obedience. These are the qualities that hitherto you 
have been lacking. At least, in sufficient quantities..." Farida
moved around so that she could observe Gillian's tendered weal
ridged buttocks. Her eyes glinted again. Yes..:
they looked most deliciously painful. "Perhaps you are already
beginning to feel a little more respect?" she asked softly.
"Y-yes, M-mistress ." Gillian's throat was dry and her answer was
hoarse.
Farida moved around to the front again and her eyes ran with
derisive scorn over Gillian's nakedness . . . her lush, half-
melon breasts, her firm white belly, her exposed, hairless mound.
"I will see a little of It," she said. "Get on your knees, girl."
Even the simple fact of calling a woman five years older than
herself 'girl', gave Farida pleasure. She tapped the side of her
calf length boot with the switch. As Gillian crawled forward,
Farida extended one toe a little... and the next moment Gillian's
mouth was pressed slavishly to the black patent leather. How
familiar was the gleam and the pungent scent of it to her!
Her mouth and tongue worked with strenuous endeavor. As it must.
There could he no half- heartedness about showing one's 'respect'
in that way. One had to lick and slobber one's submission all
over both boots maybe . . . heels, soles and all, if Farida was
in the mood and had the time.
on this occasion, she seemed to have plenty of time. It seemed as
if she might be happy to stand for hours gazing down. at the
figure which cringed and trembled in naked humiliation at her
feet. Perhaps she might have been but there was more to her
actions than that. Except, possibly, when she was handing out
some minor, on the spot correction, Farida believed in taking her
time over a punishment. There was more to it than just the
application of the rod or lash, though that would he its
centerpiece. The awful moments of dread anticipation must be as
long drawn out as possible. The victim must be spared no facet of
shame, humiliation or other mental anguish at the time. It was
all part of the punishment And a very important part.  Had not
Gillian spent five hours in mental as well as physical torment?
She would have escaped that if her punishment had been
administered all at one time  terrible as that might have been.
Moreover, because Gillian had actually arrived in the Punishment
Room, that did not mean that her anguished waiting time was oven
As a cat plays with a mouse, so Farida would play with her. . .
until she pounced and flogged her without mercy.
"Yes," said Farida musingly after some time, "that certainly
appears to show more respect," she said and gave Gillian a jab in
the shoulder with her toe. Kneel erect," she ordered.
Gillian did so. Her poor limbs were trembling. She forced herself
to speak, dangerous as this might be. It was her last chance to
impress upon Farida her inner change of heart. "Mistress," she
croaked, "I beg you... t-to... believe me . . . I . . . I . . . I
feel f-full respect. I . . . I swear it . . . I . . . am your c-
complete slave. . w-wishing . . . to submit . . . in e-every
way..."
The words were a delight to Farida. She had heard similar
pronouncements from Gillian before. But never quite so abject,
nor with so genuine a ring. Perhaps the girl was truly broken at
last. That would be a pity. . . in away. . .
Suddenly, impulsively, risking all, Gillian clasped Farida's
thighs, crushing her fulsome breasts against them. Her mouth was
close to the leather covered mound. "I w-will do anything. . .
Miss. . . anythingþ"  she panted. "I . . am y-your slave. . .
wishing to p-please you... j-just as you wish..."
Farida liked that even more. particularly did she like the feel
of Gillian against her. . . and all that her words implied. She
was beginning to sense a true; submission of the will and spirit.
However, Farida by no means relented, That was not her way. "I am
glad to hear you will do as I wish. As I demand," said Farida
softly. "Glad for your sake girl." Then her voice became harsh.
"For if you did not, you would make repeated visits to this Room
until you did!"
Gillian moaned, a shudder going through her. Was there no mercy
anywhere? Not even after she had truly submitted in her own mind?
She sensed she had failed and the tears started to run down her
cheeks as her breasts heaved with bitter sobs. She was not the
first to realize that the time when one submitted was of great
importance. She had left It for too late too late anyway to
escape what Farida had already planned for her.
"Fetch me the rod, Kaled," ordered Farida. "You know the one!"
Kaled did. It was about the most vicious one that Farida
employed, being four feet long, some three eighths of an inch
thick, with the last four inches at the tip 'reinforced' by thin 
strips of leather tightly plaited around it. The wood of the rod
was of a hard, yellow polished willow, and of great flexibility.
It was, needless to say, an instrument much feared (as much as
the whip by some) and Farida usually reserved It for what she
liked to term her, 'special cases.' Gillian was certainly one of
those!
Another and louder moan escaped from the English girls as Kaled
returned with the rod swaying up and down in his hand. She knew
already what it could do. . . but now, this time, It would be
worse. Far worse! Her stomach contracted, her nates twitched. Oh
God' why did I disobey, her mind pounded? Why did I refuse?
Anything would have been better than this!
Farida took the rod and flexed ft between hard, sinuous fingers.
It bent easily in an arc and then sprang back as she released the
tip.
"Yes..." she almost sighed.. "I don't think you really believed
me when I told you I'd make you my true slave. Now, perhaps, you
are beginning
to..."
I am.. I am your slave," gasped Gillian hopelessly. What more can
I do to show It, she wondered desperately. Would Farida ever be
satisfied? However much she humbled herself!
With a strong flick of her wrist, Farida hurled the red to one
side. It reached through the air and then slid across the
polished floor. It stopped some forty or fifty feet away. 'Go and
fetch it slave. . . on your hands and knees. . and bring It back
to me. . . in your mouth!" commanded Farida.
Gillian crawled off. It was terrible for her to know what
pleasure Farida was getting from her naked degradation. Terrible
to know what she had to submit to. She has turned me into the
equivalent of a dog fetching a stick, she thought as she crawled
over the hard floor. Reaching the rod, her mouth went down and
she picked It up, bringing it back through clenched teeth.
Her dog like status was emphasized by Farida when she patted her
head as she presented the rod to her. "You are beginning to show
some signs of improvement," remarked the slavemistress
nonchalantly.
For a moment, that old hatred and bitterness flared in Gillian,
but she fought it down. You must not think like that, she told
herself. You must do whatever she wants, with meekness and true
servility. You are no longer entitled to normal feelings. You are
a slave!
The red skated across the floor again. "Fetch It again," ordered
Farida Gillian began to crawl away towards it. "But this time,"
added the slavemistress, "Go on your belly. . . and keep your
nose to the floor.
Gillian went down. As Farida demanded, she began to slither and
grovel over the surface.  Her nose pressed against the floor, her
breasts were crushed beneath her as she moved. And all the time
she was hideously conscious of the glinting eyes upon her,
watching her for one single sign of resentment or recalcitrance.
I must do all this because she is my mistress and I am her slave.
The essence, the whole thing was simple but not for one of
Gillian's temperament.  True conversion is indeed a most complex
and difficult operation.
Farida, standing there with all her natural arrogance.. .
reassured in her absolute power. . . felt the throb throb of the
deepest kind of pleasure. She understood, as a woman, what
Gillian must be enduring mentally as well as physically, and that
enhanced her pleasure enormously.
In due time, Gillian returned, nose to the floor, and laid the
rod down. The sweat of fear as well as effort beaded her body.
How long before she felt that terrible rod she was being forced
to carry like an animal?  Simply for Farida's amusement
"Yes.. . indeed you show improvement," said Farida Eva' that
remark brought Gillian some degree of thankfulness. "But there is
room for plenty more yet," added the cold, hard, young voice. The
girl's heart sank again as she remained grovelling, nose to the
floor, every line of her body indicating her abject situation
"Kneel erect," ordered Farida.
Gillian obeyed, quickly. Her big breasts swung and bounced. She
had always been rather over conscious of them. Her eyes were
misted with tears and it was difficult for her to control her
lips.
Then the rod tapped lightly on her breasts and she could not help
shrinking back "of course"' said Farida, "if your behaviour does
not continue to improve, I may be forced to use this upon those
big, handsome udders of yours. . ."
It was in that moment that Gillian realized that there could be
even worse things than feeling the red across an already red raw
and burning tender bottom.  "Oooohhh... nooo, n-no ..." she
gasped,
She saw the slave-mistress' small teeth bared as she answered
"Oh, yes. . yes. . .I would do it, my girl . . . even if you
would not be so pleasant for the Bey to fondle for several
weeks!"
The Bey! Oh God, thought Gillian, I would rather submit ten times
to his piggish lechery and filthy demands than be the plaything
of this young she devil! Through a miasma of pain and terror, she
saw Farida smile again. "And now," she heard her say, "I think it
is time you received the benefit of the rod again. I trust it
will instill in you an even greater degree of respect and
obedience than you have already Just begin to show."
Farida's fingers snapped at Kaled and he moved forward to take
Gillian by the hair, "dragging her towards one of the numerous
whipping stations available in the room.
"Mer. . . ceeeee!" Gillian's terrible cry rang up to the vaulted
roof and echoed around the chamber. Echoed and was unanswered.
I think that Birching Hurdle will suffice," said Farida,
following behind the twisting, kicking length of her victim. She
indicated a wooden dais upon which was a rounded pole, about a
foot In diameter, slung between two slim stanchion.
Unceremoniously, Kaled lifted Gillian up on to tine dais,
slipping one hand between the bend of her thighs and grasping
under her, while his other hand still gripped her by the hair.
Once on the dais, he placed her over the horizontal pole her
belly and flanks resting upon it, and then he began to secure
her.
Her wrists he corded to a wooden strut at the front of the dais;
her thighs he secured again with cord, twisting It around them
just above the knees and tying the cord to ringbolts set in the
floor of the dais.
"Excellent," remarked Farida, stepping up on to the small
platform, the rod swishing gently up and down.
Harsh sobs were escaping from Gillian Her shoulders heaved up and
down, and her buttocks kept quivering and contracting with dread.
"Merc . . ceee. . . ." she cried out loudly again.
It seemed that the hopeless cry was not so much directed at
Farida but to the Fates themselves, asking that she he released
from life rather than endure what was to come!
The tip of the rod lightly tapped Gillian's curvaceous bottom. "I
told you I would teach you," said the cruel mistress of the
place, "and, by Allah, I will!" There was a look of the most
intense Sadie tic joy on her young face. Though there were plenty
of similar moments in her day to day life, with Gillian there was
always that something extra special which her perverted mentality
derived from having such a total power of life and death over a
white European bitch.
"I...aaaahhh... I s-swear... I'll never disobey . . . again . .
." cried Gillian, utterly distraught. She knew it was useless,
but she just could not stop herself from pleading.
"We shall see," smiled Farida, taking up a firm stance legs
astride. Kaled stood as impassive as ever, arms folded, by the
side of the torture dais. "And remember," added the
slavemistress, for once letting her emotions overtly be revealed,
"remember how much I enjoy doing this to you, Gillian . . . to
you, my slave!"
The long, flexible rod swung up and, with teeth bared, Farida
brought it down with all the strength at her command.
Chapter Five
It would have been a terrible flogging enough, but, naturally, it
was made doubly so by the state of Gillian's hindquarters.
The agony of the victim was beyond belief, the pleasure of the
administrator equally so.
Whistling hoarsely through the air, the rod fell at five to six
seconds intervals, so that it took a full minute for the
punishment to be completed.
Just one minute. No more.
But a minute of the purest, most excruciating agony for Gillian A
minute she would never forget!
Relentlessly, the strokes marched from the top of her writhing
bottom to the tops of her thighs . . . and then back again. Each
stroke expertly delivered expertly placed. Each spaced so that
the maximum pain was absorbed just before the following stroke
whip-lashed down.
Particularly agonizing was the last four inches of the rod's
tip.. . the plaited leather tip... and Farida used this to full
effect. It was the part that whip-lashed most fiercely and it was
the part of the newly raised weal that was the most savagely
blood red of all.
The writhing of Gillian over the rounded hurdle was beyond
description.. . Once could scarcely have believed the human body
was capable of such frantic convulsions unless one had witnessed
them. Her Screaming howls, which began with the first stroke,
echoed up to the vaulted roof and around the chamber. They would
have chilled the marrow of any ordinary listener. To Farida, the
slavemistress, they were the most divine symphony. A symphony
which she personally conducted!
What more beautiful sounds could there be? The sweeping whistle
of each full-blooded stroke . . . the sound of the rod biting
deep into soft flesh... . the agonized screech of new and yet
greater torment!
And, added to the beauty that naked. squirming female
hindquarters can evoke!
Lushly curvaceous buttocks that were once so white and were now
so fiery red. Red . . . and . . . yes . . red purple where the
savage weals leapt up. Long, encircling weals. Each one an
unendurable torment that burnt and burnt so deep into the body
and the very soul!
Ten strokes had been awarded  on top of the ten delivered earlier
and the strokes were administered. The wretched Gillian,
fortified un-wishingly by the stimulants within her, endured
every one to the full. Even the blissful benison of temporary
insensibility towards the end or even at the end
was not granted to her
She endured and she suffered to the limit
Just as Farida had wished it
Even when, panting with her efforts. the slavemistress tossed the
rod aside, the cacophony of sound scarcely diminished. Nor did
the convulsions of squirming and shuddering bottom flesh. Hands
on hips, Farida stood and watched. . and listened.
The smile on her cruel features was ecstatic.
After about a minute, Kaled looked enquiringly at Farida who
seemed to be slowly emerging from a kind of dream daze. But it
was not his place to speak. He took orders.
The terrible cries had ceased and become deep groaning sobs. The
bottom still squirmed, but not quite so violently. It was a
typical conclusion even if more than usually impressive  to one
of Farida's 'special punishments.'
I have broken her, thought Farida. Truly broken hen In the
future, she will be as supple as a thin leather glove on my hand,
I am sure. But I must be sure. Would it not therefore he best to
strike while the iron was hot?
She considered it a few moments longer and then came to a
decision.
"Kaled," she said , "release this slave ... and then give her
another stimulant. Not a capsule this time, but a full injection.
You know the strength I mean?"
Kaled inclined his head. "Yes, my mistress," he answered. It was
not his place to feel or express compassion . . . or, indeed, any
contrary emotion. He simply took orders.
"I think," she said, as much to herself, it seemed as to him, "I
think she will obtain full benefit from this piece of correction
by spending the remainder of the night locked in the Iron
Maiden""
Kaled inclined his head again. "Yes, my mistress," he said
impassively. "I will prepare her."
His black body glistening, he moved towards the Hurdle over which
Gillian still lay, shuddering with the unrelenting pain.
The Iron Master was a disciplinary restraining device of Farida's
own creation. It was constructed somewhat in the fashion of a
suit of armour, except That the metal was not all in one piece.
but consisted of an iron lattice work, which was adjustable and
could be moulded tightly to the victim's body once she had been
placed in the contraption.
With the help of the stimulant injection, Gillian had recovered
adequately within ten minutes. At least, she could stand and
move, however painfully, and was completely conscious. While all
this wan going on, Farida sat with limbs crossed, calmly smoking
a cigarette. But her heart was beating fast with the cruel
pleasure she was deriving. When she considered Gillian adequately
restored to her senses, she gave the signal for Kaled to take her
to the small annex in the Punishment Room where the Iron Master
was kept
It stood there stolidly, and Farida swung open the front section
of it (it was hinged down one side) and ordered Kaled to stand
Gillian in the framework. The English girl had never seen the
Iron Master before and was unaware of what was going on. All she
knew was that It was something dreadful had she was too weak with
shock and pain to offer the slightest resistance.
Once she was correctly placed, Farida closed the front section
upon her and fastened it. Thus Gillian's body and limbs were
enclosed in a kind of cage that was roughly shaped to her body.
Each limb was enclosed in a separate latticework section, movable
and adjustable and attached to the main 'torso' of the device.
Only her head was . . . and this was temporary. It was because
there were a variety of head cages which could be added on and
Farida had not yet made her choice.
She looked into her victim's wild, pain filled eyes and felt no
pity. Only pleasure.
"After tonight, my slave," she said, "I do not think you will
ever disobey me again.  Not so much as by a hair's breadth.  You
may displease me . . yes . . . and for that you will pay. But you
will not disobey me."
Gillian made no coherent answer Even if one were required, it was
doubtful if she could have replied. The encasing iron frame
filled her with a cold terror. And, of course, incessantly there
was the excruciating torment from her lacerated hindquarters.
Only strong stimulant kept her from fainting.
And now began a process which filled Farida with even greater
sadistic delight It was the adjustment of the iron master. . .
and she did it slowly and lovingly, step by step.
First she tightened the bands about Gillian's calves and thighs
so that her legs were held rigid. Then the leg cages were
adjusted so that Gillian stood astride. Her mound, the whole area
of her cunt' and the cleft between her nates were thus nakedly
exposed.
Secondly, Farida made similar adjustments to the arm  cages and
then adjusted them so that Gillian's arms were raised above her
head. All this time, Gillian's eyes remained wide and the tears
ran silently down her cheeks. The enclosing feeling of the cages,
growing ever tighter, filled her with nameless terror.
þNow," said Farida, almost to herself, 'The waist . . ."
This she now tightened until Gillian cried out breathlessly with
the restricting pain. Her 24" waist had been crushed to something
like 20" or less.
Farida gave a final extra turn of the screw . and Gillian
screamed.
"Mer...cee. . ........... more..." she cried in a strangled
voice. "K-Kill. . .me let me. ....... . let me. . . die . . .
but. . . ahhh . . no more . . . no moreþ
Farida smiled. þLetting you die is the last thing I shall do,"
she said matter-of-factly. "You have still many more useful
purposes to fulfill."
Gillian's breasts fitted into the iron-lattice cups . and these
too were adjustable.   Farida tightened them a little and the
girl began to scream hysterically. "I shall be merciful on this
occasion," the slave- mistress said, adjusting the cups only
until Gillian's breasts were firmly but not tightly gripped.  She
smiled. "But you can imagine what it would be like if I really
were to put the squeeze on . . .
This, in fact, was something Farida very rarely did for a girl's
breasts might well be permanently ruined or made unsightly. which
was pointless in most cases.
"F-For. . . God's . . .. . h-have mercy. . . whimpered Gillian,
feeling as if she were in a human vise.
þMiss. . . ohhh.. . . I have told you . . I have told you. . . I
am. . . truly. . .  your slave. . . ooohh . . . Miss. . . have
you not done enough?'
"I have just started," smiled Farida. þKaled. fetch me the head
cage. The one with the phallic projection, please..."
In moments, Kaled returned with the necessary attachment. . . and
this Farida fastened over Gillian's head, rather in the fashion
of a diver's helmet.   The girl's eyes filled with renewed panic
at this extra enclosure. . . and she began to whimper again for
mercy.  The only opening in the head-cage was by the mouth, where
there was a kind of hinged flap.  From the inside of the flap
projected a. rounded length of iron in the shape of male penis.  
There was the knob and then the section of the organ itself. . .
in all some three inches in length.
"Open your mouth," ordered Farida.
Conditioned to obey at once Gillian did  so and the flap closed
and was fastened the iron penis entering and filling the girlþs
mouth almost to the back of her throat A choking retching sound
escaped her and snorting sounds came down her flaring nostrils
Farida smiled through The grille over the petrified face. "You
can't always have the good fortune to suck a real male organ,"
she said.  Gillian went on making horrible sounds, but, of
course, no words could any more be formed by her tortured mouth.
"And now," said the slave-mistress, "for some-thing that will
really keep you happy through the night. . . ."
Contemptuously, she fingered the naked flesh of Gillian's cunt
and she felt the girl's attempted flinching withdrawal, despite
all the other ordeals she was enduring.  I am not sure, thought
Farida, whether she has truly submitted yet, whatever she says. 
The reaction of a slave-girl whose cunt would be touched should
be to present it more invitingly, not withdraw it! However,
perhaps allowance ought to be made for Gillianþs naturally
distraught condition.
Kaled, who knew what was now wanted, produced It without being
asked. It was a penetrating device, fixed to an attaching flap,
similar to the one already In Gillian's mouth, except that the
'iron phallus' was twice as long.  That is to say, something like
seven inches.
With a look of evil relish on her hard features, Farida hinged
the flap on to the 'torso' of the Iron Master. Then she swung the
flap upwards so that the iron knob of the phallus parted the
girl's cunt lips.
A whining sound was escaping down Gillian's nostrils . . . and it
intensified as Farida continued to press on the flap so that the
phallus slid up and into her. The sadistic girl did not thrust it
quickly but with a slow and steady motion, until the whole of the
iron projection was in her victim.  Filling and stretching her. 
Filling her with pain and horror. And when it was in, Farida
locked the flap securely and stood up.
"There..." she said, smiling at the grille of the head cage.
"There. . . does not that feel absolutely lovely, my slave  "
Or course, Gillian could make no reply, but the high-pitched
whinnying sounds continued with even greater fervor. She was
locked and held and pinioned in iron at every point . . . and
horribly penetrated.  A wild and hopeless panic gripped her. A
panic of utter despair.
At that moment, Kaled came alongside Farida with yet another
phallic device. "For the rear passage, mistress," he said.
Farida looked at the device for a moment or two. . . and then
shook her head. "No," she said. "In that connection, I wish to
keep her 'virgin'. It may well be that her arse-hole will be put
to use before long. And there are some who would prefer to take
her virgin tight."
As she spoke, she continued to look into Gillian's eyes, seeing
the growing terror in them. It was obvious that the girl
understood the implication of the words.
She was being spared the horror of a present added torment for a
future one!
For a full minute; Farida continued to gaze on her helpless
victim. The whinnying sounds never ceased and the encased body
shuddered and jerked with in its terrible confines.
"Release her at eight in the morning, Kaled," ordered the
slavemistress, tuning on her heel at last.
"Yes, mistress . . ." The eunuch bowed his head and followed her
to the door of the Punishment Room.
The wretched Gillian was left alone in her agonising torment and
terrifying iron cage. Alone. Alone and helpless. With hours of
more torment lying ahead of her.
It was but a short time later that Farida lay naked in voluptuous
abandon upon the luxurious, warm silkiness of her four-poster
bed. Looking up, she could see herself reflected in the mirror in
the canopy above. . . and also, with dark head low, the dusky
body of young Nerene.
Farida stretched, arching her back, sighing a little, Nerene's
dedicated mouth and tongue filling her with steady mounting
pleasure. Life was good. Very good. She sighed gently and
contentedly again, end let her mind reflect with sadistic
pleasure on the Contrast between her situation and that of
Gillian.  For herself, there was softness and pleasure; for the
arrogant white woman there was iron hardness and pain! It was
only fair... .
The knowledge added to Farida's enjoyment . . . as did her
recollection of Gillian's nakedness in the Punishment Room when
the vicious rod had brought such excruciating torment upon her
victim.
"Get your tongue in deeper, Nerene," ordered Farida. Her
glittering dark eyes half closed and her wide thin lips parted
more as her breath came faster. She was coming slowly, but
powerfully to her climax.
Chapter Six
At the very same time, in his luxurious private chambers, in
another part of the harem, the Bey Hamil Aroun lay as completely
naked as his slave mistress daughter.
The girls attendant on him that evening had seemed particularly
pleasing. . . and were continuing to be so.  Lying on his back he
watched a pair of shapely, coal black buttocks rise and fall.
They had the sheen of black satin, he thought as, with her back
turned towards him, the girl continued to 'ride' the most
satisfactory erection he had achieved. Her name, If he remembered
right, was Lotina. Not that it mattered much. And, from time to
time, his view of that undulating black bottom was obscured by a
pair of beautiful milk white breasts. They belonged to Babette,
who was kneeling above his head, facing in the same direction as
Lotina, and who was caressingly dancing her orbs over his chest
and face in order to add to his sensual pleasures.
It was all most pleasing and satisfying and, not for the first
time, the Bey reflected upon how much the techniques and
performances of his harem girls had improved since Farida had
taken up her appointment as slave-mistress. What a good girl she
was! No father could ask for a daughter more devoted to pleasing
him. None of the girls seemed to spare any effort to satisfy his
slightest desires. Moreover, they were all most respectful and
obediently servile.
In the old days, he thought, as he felt the increasing liquid
warm joy of Lotina's cunt, some of them had seemed almost
perfunctory in the performance of their duties. others who may
have formed the impression that they were his particular
favourites, were occasionally almost verging on the insolent
Well. . . there was no more of that. There wasn't a singe harem
girl who did not give him everything she was capable of. Whatever
he wanted, in whatever way pleased him most. In addition, it was
rare that he had to give directions. They seemed to know what he
wanted. . . and when. . . often working skillfully as a black and
white and dusky coloured team... Just as Lotina and Babette were
doing at the moment. Everything designed for his perfect
pleasure.
At that moment, Babette began to slide slowly and clingingly
forward. Her breasts pressed against his belly so that he knew
her face must be close to Lotina's hardworking hindquarters. The
Bey liked the idea of that. He also liked the spectacle of the
smooth, white cunt that was presented to him. Plump and ripe
above his face, between soft quivering thighs. He tongued it
lightly, drinking in the pungent scent and sensation of the
girl's pinkish slit.
His lust grew hotter; the sex pleasure grew keener. He would have
liked It to endure longer, but he knew it was not possible. Soon,
his whole flabby body was shuddering and jerking as Lotina's cunt
brought him to a climax while Babette's soft white body wriggled
on top of him and his mouth continued to drink in the delights of
her avidly proffered cunt.
Morning came to the harem. Morning, with its mixture of pain and
pleasure. Pain for the many, pleasure for the few. By ten
o'clock, having been bathed, dressed and breakfasted by her
attendants, Farida was at work in her study. She summoned her two
lieutenants, Miss Frankel and Miss Kramer and received reports
and issued directives.
There were eight put forward as possible cases for punishment  on
account of various minor misdemeanors which had taken place on
the previous day. Two of them were put to one side for further
consideration and a personal interview by Farida herself. The
other six she directed to be dealt with by her assistants. Four
of them were to receive five strokes of a single thonged strap
and the other two were to receive five similar strokes of the
strap followed by five additional strokes from a lightweight
cane. These punishments were to be administered at eleven o'clock
that day in the main Punishment Room by the eunuchs on duty under
the supervision of either Miss Frankel or Miss Kramer. "Gillian,"
added Farida, "is to be put under heavy sedation for thirty-six
hours. Healing ointment is to be applied to any scarred flesh
surface every four hours throughout. At the end of the period,
she is to be brought to me for personal examination Is everything
clear?"
Her two heavily built women assistants voiced their assent to her
orders and then withdrew. They had plenty of work to do. All the
girls had to be inspected to see that they were in the peak of
condition and beauty expected from them. Then they had to be
assigned to their various duties for the next twenty-four hours 
as already laid down in writing by the slave-mistress. A small
group would be to attend to the Bey himself.  Some would undergo
various forms of beauty culture and physical training.  Others
would have tasks of manual or domestic nature.
Everything, in fact, wider Farida's directions, was organised to
a high degree. There was a pattern and there was a plan.   No
girl could laze around easily, simply awaiting a summons to
please the Bey, as once had been the case. Above all, every harem
girl knew that if she failed to satisfy the demands and
directives of the slave mistress, she would suffer for it.  If
there was one thing that was certain in the harem life, it was
this one!
Farida had formally asked for an audience of the Bey at eleven
o'clock and had been granted it was she who enlisted on such
procedures and not her father . . . and, as has been said, it was
she who preferred not be treated as a daughter, but simply as a
slave-mistress.
In her usual outfit of leather  in this case a combination of
black and white  she strode into the antechamber that led to the
Bey's private quarters.  Her glittering eyes flashed round the
chamber, which was ornately decorated with pillars, arches,
drapes and massive chandeliers. What she saw seemed to satisfy
her.
On each side was a raised recess in the wall. In each stood a
naked, dusky maiden attractively posed in a statuesque way.  Each
one of them would remain in that pose for two hours until she
would be relieved by another girl, who would pose similarly. Two
more beautiful girls  one ivory white, one coal black flanked the
actual entrance to the quarters. They were bedecked in
magnificent headdresses, jewels and silk. . . all which enhanced 
rather than hid their natural feminine charms.
These girls were all part of the new 'living decor' which Farida
had instituted as a regular feature of the harem. It was an
innovation that amused and delighted the Bey and he had expressed
his approval of it on a number of occasions.
A coffee coloured eunuch met her just within the actual apartment
and told her that the Bey was ready to receive her. She went in
and found the Bey at his ease, smoking a traditional type water
pipe and leafing through some letters and documents on a low
table before him.  In the background were the attendant harem
girls assigned to duty for the next six-hour period. The Bey
might use them for his pleasure, or he might not It was all
according to his mood and whim. But all the time, in any case,
they had to be there, standing decoratively naked as had been
prescribed by Farida. one of the girls, in fact, stood behind the
Bey, gently waving an ostrich feather fan above him in ancient
Eastern style. It was really a quite unnecessary function since
the room was air-conditioned, but Farida was a great believer in
the facade and practices of former slave days.
The girls on duty conformed to the regular pattern laid down. one
was a Negress, one was a half-caste, and one was white. It so
happened, in this instance, that the latter was pure white, but,
in view of the shortage of pure white girls (which Farida was in
the process of remedying) it quite often happened that the
'white' girl was a near white one. An octoroon, or something near
it. But, in any event, Farida made sure that the Bey had an
enchanting contrast in colours for his service and pleasure.
"Good morning, all highest," said Farida as she came into the
inner private chambers.  Her hard eyes had already taken in the
general attitude and appearance of the attendant girls . . . and
she appeared satisfied . . to their great relief.
The Bey looked up and his face brightened. He was very fond of
this daughter of his.   Only by an effort did he restrain his
natural feelings and remember that she preferred to be treated as
his slave-mistress rather than as a close blood relative.  "Good
morning, Miss Farida," he said formally . . . understand you
wished to speak with me?" 'Yes, all highest," answered Farida,
not unaware it the girl with the fan behind the Bey literally
trembled simply on account of her very presence.  She was a lithe
and magnificently built young Negress who had been decorated with
a blonde wig, pale pink lips and pink rouged nipples. She stood
in white kid shoes with six inch spike heels. "But first, I wish
to know if you have any complaints as to the running of your
harem... or any particular girl..." 
"None," smiled the Bey, looking faintly surprised. why should he?
On the other hand, he had become aware of Farida's devotion to
duty and detail . . . and, therefore, went out of his way to
cooperate in such matters. "Of course," he added, "many of the
girls seemed to be carrying many more stripes than they used
to..."
Farida nodded. "Yes," she said. "Inevitably so . . . however,
particularly in view of the measures taken, that does not make
them too unsightly, I trust?"
"Oh, no . . . no . . . not all..." answered the Bey.  His heavy
jowls shook. Although he was only in us mid-forties, his excesses
gave him the appearance of one in the mid-fifties. "I understand
the necessity of it. They are all very well behaved now."
"I am very glad to hear that," said Farida. "That is the basic
purpose of my system and my methods." She paused. "That reminds
me, all highest  before proceed to my main point  I have just
acquired two new 18 year old Moroccan girls. Of a high standard,
I may, say. They are a little rebellious at the moment, and I
intend to have them both soundly whipped this evening. I would
prefer them to receive their first taste of the lash before you,
if it would please you"
The Bey, who was by no means averse to such a spectacle, nodded
benignly. "Whatever you think best, Miss Farida," he replied.
Farida nodded. "They will be tied together, naked and face to
face, strung up by their thumbs. They will each receive twenty
strokes  simultaneously.  I think they will be less rebellious
after that!"
The Bey nodded, licking his fleshy lips. "Yes..." he said . "I
should imagine so. And now, Miss Farida, what was your main
point.
"As a matter of discipline, all highest," replied his daughter,
her eyes glinting like crystals. "I want your permission to have
the nose and nipples of every harem girl pierced . . . so that
metal rings could be' inserted through them on any occasion I
think fit." There were a few moments of silence. The Bey blinked
and the naked Negress behind him shuddered involuntarily  as did
the other two girls present.
"Will that not. . . disfigure them?" he asked at last.
"Not at all," answered Farida in a matter of fact way. "The
piercing will be through the soft flesh and by no mean obvious
except when the rings are being worn. What is important is that a
girl should be able to be led by the nose or the nipples or both. 
It Is a matter of both disciplinary and decorative importance."
"I see.. yes. . . I see..." nodded the Bey. He found himself
rather suddenly and unexpectedly excited by Farida's proposal.
"Well then, Miss Farida," he added. "Pray do as you wish. You are
the slave mistress and you are in charge of the harem. To date, I
have had no complaints!"
Farida smiled thinly. Sadistically. 'Thank you, all highest," she
said. "I thought it best to consult you first in this matter. 
Now I shall leave you..."  Then, without a word, she turned on
her heels and strode from the chamber.
For a minute or so, the Bey sat in a contemplative silence.  Then
he got up and went to a low, cushion covered couch nearby.  A
beringed finger beckoned to the blonde white slave girl who stood
provocatively posed on a small dais on the other side of the
chamber. T he girl came to him. her naked body moving
seductively, hips swinging, breasts bouncing softly.  In her wide
eyes was the familiar look of hopeless despair as she sank to her
knees before the Bey and offered him her breasts.
The Bey fondled them lasciviously. "How do you like the idea of
having your nipples pierced?" he inquired  in a low voice. "And
that pretty nose?"
The naked girl shuddered as she answered in a
hoarse voice  "It... it .is as my . . . m-master wishes. . ."
Still fondling her resilient globes, the Bey smiled down at her.
"Isn't that just so?" He said meditatively. "It is as I wish!"
One hand left the full breasts and slid down over the curve of
her belly. At once the smooth, hairless cunt was sensitive to his
touch. He fingered her. .þYes . . . it is, indeed, as I wish..!"
he repeated, gloatingly.
Farida, sure she would get the Bey's approval for her scheme, had
already made her preparations and on the following day, she
personally carried out the 'ringing' of the first selected batch
of a dozen girls. She had decided that number would be handled
each day until every one was pierced in nose and nipples so that
she could wear the rings whenever it was prescribed.
The girls, wondering and frightened, where brought in chains,
naked together. Six of them were full Negresses, four were half-
castes and the other two were white or so nearly white as not
make any difference.
When the proceedings began, it was were these two who made the
biggest fuss and screamed the loudest.  Perhaps this was so
because such a thing was far more alien to them than to the
blacks... some of whom might even have come from tribes who wore
small nose rings and the like as a form of decoration.
On the other hand. none of them, of course, found it pleasant to
be pieced with a red-hot iron in such tender flesh as that a
woman has in her nose and her nipples. Moreover, the rings which
were then put through the nose were of solid brass and heavy
like those worn by animals. The nipple rings however, because of
the decorative effect required were much lighter . . . rather of
the thickness of a wedding ring, though larger in circumference.
Each girl was led forward In turn and laid flat on her back and
there held down by Miss Frankel and Miss Kramer. The look of
dawning horror in each successive pair of eyes quite fascinated
Farida. She warned each girl in turn that, if she struggled
unduly, she could do herself an additional and more painful
injury. In addition, she would subsequently get a thrashing for
her misbehavior.
Then Farida would take the soft flesh ridge in between the
nostrils and pull it out as far as possible with light pincers.
At once the hot iron as thick as a knitting needle, would be
plunged In. There would be the brief smell of burning flesh . . .
the girl's awful cries of pain and horror, then the iron would be
withdrawn.
A similar but much thinner iron was used on each nipple in turn,
these again being pulled by the pincers first.  The screams
seemed even louder than when the nose had been involved and some
of the girls twisted themselves so much that their breasts got
lightly burnt by the iron.  On the first occasion when this
happened.. . with the second girl . . . Farida got so angry she
promised that any girl who got similarly burned in the future
would get a minimum of five strokes of the birch in addition to
any other punishment for her misbehavior that was deemed
necessary.
Despite her warning, however, one of the half-castes was burnt
and one of the white girls too. In fact, only four of the girls
escaped any punishment at all and they were all Negresses. For
their resistance three of the half-castes were allocated five
strokes of the strap. The fourth half-caste was to get five of
the strap followed by the promised five from the birch. The white
girl who was not burnt but had struggled fiercely was sentenced
to ten strokes of the strap; the one who was burnt to five of the
strap and ten of the birch.
They were quite harsh sentences under the circumstances but
Farida knew word of them would spread . . . and those who
followed would give less trouble.  This was quite important as
many of them
would be dealt with by the less skilled hands of her assistants. 
After the twelfth girl had been ringed, Farida had them lined up
as if on parade and inspected.  She was well satisfied with her
work both from the look of the rings in position and the look in
the eyes of the girls who had to wear them. There could be no
doubt as to how keenly this additional indignity was felt by all.
"Remove the rings after three days." Farida ordered her two
assistants.  "Then the flesh will have properly healed and the
holes will be smoothly round end permanent." She gave a final
mock-sadistic look along the line. She saw the tears, she saw the
eyes filled with ii and degradation, she saw the Soft breasts
that heaved with deep sobs. '"Very well," she said nodding to
Miss Frankel and Miss Kramer. 'You may now proceed with the
punishment I have allotted. . ."
She turned, away, her high heels click clacking the wooden floor,
her short black leather skirt
lilting from side to side...then the heavy door thudded behind
her.
There was a look of smug satisfaction on the faces of both German
woman as they regarded the charges which had been left to them.
It was an assignment that fined both of them with deep, cruel
pleasure.
"I think," said Miss Frankel, "that those who are to receive the
rod only, will be dealt with first." Miss Kramer nodded . . . and
moved forward to unshackle the young Negress at the end of the
line.  A most enjoyable half an hour lay ahead!
While, in the Punishment Room  at intervals a series of black,
coffee coloured and white hindquarters writhed in agony.. . while
there was the repeated sound of rod, strap and birch biting into
their soft flesh and scream after scream echoed from the
impassive walls. . . Farida lay contentedly relaxed on her own
bed.
Her new scheme had begun well And she looked forward to the time
when some of her 'special cases' were similarly pierced and
fitted. Farida smiled. Gillian, for example. would look
particularly enchanting when led by a chain attached to a ring on
her nose!
The slave mistress pressed e switch by her bed. In a matter of
moments, it seemed, young Nerene entered.
"I want to be bathed' girl In warm milk. In ten minutes.  ."
'Yes, Miss," answered the coffee coloured young beauty, looking
absolutely delightful in her white kid high heels and tiny white
apron which concealed nothing at all of her ripe charms.
"I want Rasqui in attendance as well" continued Farida, referring
to Nerene's companion on personal duty to the slave mistress.
"And afterwards I shall want massage  from both of you"
"Yes, Miss," answered Nerene meekly. She understood perfectly
what was going to be required of herself and her slave companion.
Having made her relax fully, they would then, one way or another,
satiate her lesbian lusts to the full.
But, thought Nerene as, having curtsied, she turned away. . . I
no longer mind so much. Now that first shock was over. The shock
of revulsion at such unnatural practices. Was It any worse than
being the sex plaything of a disgusting, paunchy, middle-aged
lecher like the Bey? In any case, it was better to submit and
obey than he in the punishment Room knowing that the strap, the
rod or the lash were about to contort one's body into shrieking
pain!
Even when, some time later, Nerene had her nose between the cleft
of her mistress's buttocks... and was sucking and tonguing her
with lascivious avidity. . . she did not really change her mind.
She had indeed fully submitted to her fate!
on the following day. . . Gillian was brought before Farida. As
usual, she was led in on a collar and chain by the black skinned
Kaled. It was her second Visit to the slave mistress's private
apartments, the first having ended by her being forced to undergo
the corrective treatment already described. . . one Which had
ended in her spending a night locked in the Iron Master.
There can be no doubt that she was a different woman from the one
who had entered those apartments on the first occasion. In the
interval, Farida had finally broken her physically and
spiritually.
The blazing fires of modesty, pride, fury and hate had all been
damped down to smoldering ashes.
Gillian now truly accepted the fact that she was a harem slave
girl.  That Farida was her mistress. That she must obey her
implicitly and immediately. . . and, moreover, she even accepted
the fact that it would be right that she should be punished if
she did not
That was all a slave could expect. And she was a  slave.  A slave
of this all-powerful young woman.
"Release her . . and then leave us," ordered Farida, lighting a
cheroot. Kaled at once unshackled GilIian's lush white nakedness
and departed.
Smiling thinly, but inwardly filled with the most fierce delight,
Farida extended one pointed toe of a highheeled hoot Just an inch
or two. In a moment, Gillian was down on her belly and grovelling
forward . . . her lips, her tongue, her mouth slobbering over the
patent leather. Still smiling, Farida locked down at the creature
she had so utterly conquered, noting that, despite the healing
treatment, her buttocks were well scarred.  Not surprising, she
thought!
It was a moment of the purest pleasure for Farida. The kind of
pleasure that only absolute power over another being can give.
She sensed the true submission of her victim. . . and it thrilled
her to the marrow.
For a minute or two she permitted the slavish mouth to continue
to kiss and lick her boots. It really is almost a generous
gesture on my part, she thought, smiling inwardly. For, after
all, the girl really wants to show me how much of a slave to me
she now is . . . how fully submissive she really is!
Then, as she stood there, the deep throb-throb of intensifying
sexual desire spread through Farida. The moment she had so
pleasurably anticipated for so long was fast approaching. The
moment when Gillian's mouth would go to work in a place far more 
sensitive and exciting than upon the boots! Farida's anticipatory
pleasure was heightened by the knowledge of how much such an act
repelled Gillian.  So much so that her will and spirit had had to
be completely broken before she would submit to carrying it out.
It Is going to be divine, thought Farida, her body thrilling to
the idea of those lips and that tongue so intimately and abjectly
engaged. With punishment awaiting their owner if they did not
work zealously or pleasingly enough.
The point of Farida's toe in Gillian's midriff indicated that the
slave could remove her mouth from the leather. Farida turned on
her heel and strode into her boudoir.
"Follow me..." She ordered
Gillian did so, still grovelling snakelike on her belly.  The
moment had at last come for her to make her ultimate submission!