tagChain StoriesKismet Ch. 08

Kismet Ch. 08

byRedHairedandFriendly©

Author's Note: For new and old readers, I hope you enjoy the newest edition to the chain and I wish to extend a big thank you to the writers for their contributions in the previous chapters and the future ones. Enjoy and remember votes and comments are welcomed ~ Red.

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Gentle moans could be heard coming from Tulay's throat as Ulvi Nasib pleasured her. Hera sat obediently on the floor just a few feet away from the couple. Her back was to them, but the sounds they made were easy to comprehend. Hera's skin grew warm and pink. She covered her face, humiliation rolled over her as she heard Tulay's voice call out for her Master's seed. A long drawn out grunt of pleasure rolled through Ulvi. The upstanding Englishwoman, now slave to another knew the young man had come and had shot his milk into the woman's sex. Hera shifted slightly, the bells on her ankles jingled, singling her movements. She blushed, fully aware that she had drawn attention to herself. Her fear was confirmed when Ulvi called out to her.

Hera rose, took a deep breath and turned. She closed the distance between the bed and her mat with just a few strides. "Yes, Master?" she said as she waited for his instructions. She heard him speak softly to Tulay; seconds later the woman stepped through the veil of cloths and brushed past Hera. Hera closed her eyes; the woman had changed almost overnight once they had reached Master 'Abbas' home and now Hera knew her to be nothing more than another enemy.

"Hera!"

The Englishwoman spun around, pulled open the cloth and stepped between them. They closed behind her. "Yes, Master?"

"Are you ready to come to my bed?" Ulvi asked.

Hera's gaze ran over his softened cock. It glistened from his release and Tulay's juices. She lifted her chin, turned her face away and crossed her arms over her bare breasts.

"I see," Ulvi said. He was not surprised by her response and had it been any other woman but the one that stood before him, he would most likely punish her with indifference. She would be ignored for weeks, if not months. The other women in the harem would treat her as a child. Force her to dine alone, to take her baths last; the waters would be warm but far from clean. Yet, Ulvi did none of these things to Hera.

"Prepare my bath," he said. Ulvi watched the beautiful creature turn away. "Stop," he said suddenly. An idea formed in his head, one he had not thought of before. "You will bathe with me this night," he told her.

Hera turned slowly and faced the man she called "Master". "You want me to bathe with you?"

"Yes. Is that so difficult a request. It is the least you can do, and the most you've ever been asked recently," Ulvi said. He rose from his bed, slipped into a robe and walked past Hera.

She followed him; the bells jingled a soft melody with no rhyme or reason. "But why?"

He took a deep breath and turned. "Why not? I have done much for you, and you have repaid me how - - once you healed, you were quick to try and escape, though no one, not even I had touched you. And if anyone in this house has a right to touch you it is I!" he shouted.

Hera stepped back. "I thanked you for all you did, but you know I am not yours. It does not matter to me if you purchased me. It does not matter to me that you brought a healer in and set my wrist to rights. What matters is that you know my story! You know the truth and how I came to be here, and yet you do not return me to the man I love!" Hera shouted back.

Immediately the doors of Ulvi Nasib's chambers were swung open and two guards hurriedly crossed the threshold. They stopped when they saw their Master was not in any danger. Both openly admired the redhead. Ulvi allowed their ogling for a brief moment before he singled them to leave.

"I have told you the truth. I was asked to keep you safe. That you were under his protection; which makes you a valuable asset. But love? No my dear woman -- he does not love you. You are mine, and the only reason I do not force myself upon you is because I do not wish to pull a dagger from back." He eyed her with a look of desire. "Though if I were to bind you, then I would not have to concern myself -- would I?"

"You disgust me. Azlan would never just let you keep me. I heard of the gifts, the bag of coins, the gun. Those were payments to buy me back. You have stolen from ..."

Hera never finished her sentence. Ulvi had his hand around her throat before she realized he'd moved. He held her tight. Her hands came up and she gripped his wrist. Fear shot through her as she tried to remain calm.

Ulvi stared at her for a long time before he spoke. "I have never stole from our Divine Leader. Your accusations give me just cause to kill you. I have been a kind Master to you. I owe you no explanation for the gifts that were given to me -- gifts woman -- not payment. They were my reward for saving you, tending you, healing you and you were left here in my care. They were not here to take you back. You may hold a place in his heart, but you do not hold his heart!" Ulvi released his grip while pushing her away.

Hera stumbled back, with her hands to her throat. He had not held her tight enough to harm her, nor for her to truly be concerned for her life, but she knew from his words and the passion behind them that he spoke the truth.

"Go to your rooms, return Tulay to me. I have no use for you. You are a thorn in my side and I would send you back to your Sultan, but foolishly I desire you and I have no wish to return such a prize to any man, even our Great Leader."

He watched her leave and as angry as he was for wanting her he was more angry with himself for not forcing her to bend to his will. "Ah mother, you have raised a gentle giant," he muttered as he headed toward his bathing room, where he knew Tulay would soon follow. She would be tired, so he would allow her to bed with him that night. In the morning she would again see to his needs, but he knew it would be the freckled redhead that he saw wrapping her lips around his cock.

Back in her room Hera stumbled to her bed and covered her face in the deep folds of her blankets. She wept for all that had transpired since her first step off the ship and into Mada's clutches. Afsoon, her daughter was gone. Hera's body had been used and abused by several of Mada's most loyal men, men loyal to her for as long as she had coins to give. That knowledge was the only consolation Hera had -- her "friend" would one day pay for her crimes; someone -- someday would betray her.

Ulvi's words came back to her as she rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. She knew she had pushed him too far with the false accusation she had so carelessly tossed at him. Azlan had cared for her, but not like she had him. She was another woman, easy to take to bed, and easy to please. He found favor with her, but most likely it was due to her rarity among his people. Hera had been, over the past several weeks, reevaluating her past and knew that she had seen more in her relationship with the Sultan than he had. She had also found herself alone and frightened, so much so that she had hastily tried to run away.

Hera shook her ankles and the bells jingled. She laughed softly at herself. They had allowed her to escape. A knife had been carelessly left within her reach; a pile of freshly clean linen fit for a stable lad had been sitting in plain sight of her daily tours of the gardens. Hera hadn't questioned the "luck" that had rained down on her, not until she was brought back to the harem and dropped unceremoniously on the floor. The women circled her, laughing and chuckling amongst themselves. Tulay had been the most cruel. She had locked the small bell bracelets around both her ankles while the women held her down. The following morning she was taken to Ulvi and forced to admit that she had tried to flee. He had been angry and she had been forced to crawl on her hands and knees for a week. The truth of her being "set up" was never revealed. Hera knew that to confess such trickery would make her even more despised than she already was.

Even after being humbled by Ulvi's punishment Hera still fought against her new station in life. She was, after all a former Lord's wife. She had come to Azlan for protection against the humiliation of the crown and instead had been knocked down to something even the lowest servants would refuse to acknowledge. How could she allow herself to become a slave? She was a woman of high breeding. Tonight though, Ulvi had finally broken through the veil she'd placed over her eyes. Hera flipped back to her stomach, promising that tomorrow her Master and his women would see her in a new light.

~ ~ ~ * ~ ~ ~

The following morning Ulvi sat, his legs crossed and his thoughts focused on his prayers. The sound of another waiting just inside his chambers brought him out of his meditations and back to the present. "Yes, mother?"

Merit stepped into the room, while Ulvi rose up to greet her. They embraced; he kissed her cheeks dutifully. "What brings you to my chambers?" he asked.

"This morning the Englishwoman came to me."

Ulvi lifted his brows. "She requested an audience with you? Why?"

"It seems she wishes to be groomed."

Doubt crossed over Ulvi's face. "No, she is seeking another way to escape," he sighed, "perhaps I should just let her go back to him. He is a great leader and..."

"No, son. You must not. Your father and I have been visiting you for several weeks and we have been hoping for a change in the woman," Merit motioned for him to take a seat next to her on a long bench, resting under his window. "Look there," she said, "she works with the women, where yesterday she held herself above them."

Ulvi saw the change, but still did not concede to his mother's theory.

"Ulvi, imagine if this desire is real. She came to me, asked for my aid in learning the ways to co-exist within the harem. I instructed her that first she had to lower her airs of superiority. To show the other women that she is not above them, no matter her breeding. Ulvi, no matter what I tell her though, you must realize the potential of taking this woman into your bed, and quite possibly as your wife?"

The young man laughed. His mother frowned. "You dare to make light of my words?"

"Mother, surely you jest. You of all people and father too, ask me to believe that you would want me to wed the Englishwoman. She is not of our faith? Or our people?"

"True," she agreed, "she is not of our faith, but buy your purchase she is now 'our people'. But look beyond that. She is under the Sultan's protection which is already a very valuable weapon for you; the world is changing my son. Foreign dignitaries are coming to our lands and bartering with our leaders. You would bring the first Englishwoman to the table that could fully understand the workings of their government and ours."

"An ambassador for our people?" Ulvi asked, his thoughts taking more heed to his mother's word.

"And to you," Merit countered. She rose and smoothed the robes of her morning dress. "You will tie two nations together by taking her as your wife. Think beyond the bedroom my son, many in your position do not."

Mother and son departed ways. Knowing that her son desired the ruby-haired one had made it easy to lay the foundations for his musings. Merit had no doubt that Ulvi would soon see the wisdom in her words.

Ulvi remained at the window long after his mother took her leave. He found himself watching Hera with a different look in his eye. His desire for her was still strong, but it had simmered after her indifference to his presence, and last night she had stirred him to lose control. Something he prided himself against.

Hera felt the eyes of several of the women on her back. She knew they were leery of her new demeanor. If she were to admit it to herself, she too was surprised. Hera had slept soundly for the first time since her ordeal had begun. She still wanted to desperately reach her daughter's side, and to free her, but she also knew that to do that she would have to find favor in Ulvi's eyes.

The unexpected visit to his mother had come to her immediately upon opening her eyes. She had made a life for herself in England by not only using her beauty, but by playing up what she knew best and that was being a hostess and engaging conversationalist. Her late husband Lord Bryon had seen the potential in taking her as a wife, and claiming another man's child as her own, so why could she not convince another man she was a valuable asset to his life.

Hera did not imagine herself as the love of his life, but she did not fail to see the gifts he gave to his women. Tulay, a young woman, the youngest of his lovers wore gems of the finest quality, as well as clothing that she knew to be silk. With gifts such as these she could hoard them and eventually buy her freedom, if not seek Ulvi's aid in purchasing her daughter for himself. The idea of "whoring" her daughter made her skin crawl, but the idea of never being a part of her life easily rode over her disgust. She had also witnessed the difference in Ulvi's treatment and Risay's. Ulvi's bed had to be the more desirable.

The thought of her Master and his bed warmed her cheeks. Hera closed her eyes and faced the gentle breeze. She took a deep breath and imagined herself against him. She had been forced to bathe him after his matings with the other women. Washing another woman's cum from her Master's sex had been degrading. The first time he had urged her to take his cum-covered cock into her mouth and "wash" him; she had made such a face he had turned away in disgust. From that point on she was brought to his rooms, forced to sit on a mat and wait till he was finished with his woman. He never asked her to suckle him clean again, but she still had to wash his body and his shaft with the bathing water and the scented soaps.

Looking back Hera knew she had given him the impression that she found him undesirable and she welcomed the lack of his attentions. Now everything was different, she needed his desire and his passion, or she would never fund passage for her and her daughter.

"What are you about?"

Hera turned toward the voice. "Good day Tulay. I am doing nothing at this moment. Do you have need of me?"

Tulay frowned. "I have seen you helping this morning and I have heard you visited our Master's mother. What are you about?"

"I am 'about' nothing," Hera said.

"I knew when Master purchased you, you would be trouble. I was right too. He healed you and took care of you. Fed you and made sure you were seen clothed in the finery reserved for his women. Yet, when he felt you were healed and ready to be brought to him, you show him disgust at his aura. You embarrassed him and he lacks desire for you now. Yet... I see you are now agreeable and willing to 'change'. Why? Why now Englishwoman do you seek the life you have judged as vile and immoral?"

It was easy to hear the disgust in Tulay's words. Hera understood where the young woman was coming from. She took a deep breath and softened her expression. "Tulay, you are right. I have treated your Master and his women, including you with contempt and I have allowed my pride to reign over my mind. I am from a different world and this," she lifted her hand and swept it across the harem courtyard, "is seen as shameful. But I am no longer in England. I am no longer an Englishwoman. I am just another woman bought to please her Master. I resign myself to my fate."

Tulay eyed her with suspicion. "When Master bought you, I had hoped to make you something he would be proud of, to groom you and show him that I was worthy to be his wife. He grows older with every passing hour and he needs to begin his line. Having you bend to his will, would show him that I would be capable of running his household."

Hera smiled. "We have had a rocky road -- you and I. You are wise beyond your years. I see that now. I would be honored to learn from you and to praise your name when Master sees the improvements in my mannerisms. What Tulay do I need to do first?"

Tulay thought a moment. "You must conform to our way of life. Master, like many men prefer all his women to be bare."

"I had noticed," Hera blushed. The women bathed with each other, so she knew all of the harem girls were free of pubic hair, as well as underarm hair. "I will submit to Seker, the chief eunuch and..."

"No!" Tulay shouted, "I will tend you. You are my special project. I will teach you all and you will please Master beyond all women. He will hunger for you to warm his bed."

Hera looked stunned. "But Tulay, what of you? You wish to be his wife. Surely you do not want him to favor me so greatly?"

The young girl laughed. "Silly Englishwoman, you will have his cock and maybe even his heart. But I -- I will have all of this," she reached out with both arms and spun in a circle, "I will be his wife. Not just his wife, but his first wife! The first wife holds great power! His cock can make its home in me whenever he desires it now, why should it be different when I am his wife? It is just a cock, to carry his name -- that is the favor I seek."

"I am forever amazed at how much knowledge you possess for one so young. I place myself in your hands," Hera said. "Perhaps we will become friends?"

Tulay took Hera's hand in hers. "I do not seek a friend Hera. I seek a husband. Remember if I am made his wife, you will be punished by my hand if you displease either of us."

"I understand Tulay, but believe me when I say -- I will do all I can to make sure the Master seeks your hand in marriage and I look forward to finding a way to make myself more pleasurable to him and allowing you to reap the rewards."

"Then we will both find happiness with our stations in life," Tulay said.

The two women left the courtyard and retired to the bath houses. Once there Hera was asked to disrobe by her new tutor. She did so, only hesitating slightly. Tulay motioned for her to lie down on the towel she'd placed on the baked-clay bricks. Hera did so. She stared at the ceiling while Tulay lifted her right arm. A thick milky cream was applied to her underarm. The glimmer of a knife appeared in the young woman's hand.

Tulay rested one hand on the underside of Hera's bicep. She scrapped the knife down, lifting hair and cream with the sharp blade. Hera remained motionless, hoping the young girl knew how to handle the blade. She knew her fear was unfounded when the same slow and gentle touch of steel was lain across her right arm.. Tulay rinsed away the cream and washed the knife as she instructed Hera to roll to her side.

"My side?"

"Your hair must be removed. I will start with the small strands that lie between the crevice of your thigh and sex, working inward. You must lift your leg as high as you can so that I can get every stubborn curl. After this you will roll slightly over, so I may spread the cheeks of your ass, even thin hairs can be found growing along the seem between your pussy and your tight channel," Tulay said with a voice that held no embarrassment.

"I know where hair can be found Tulay, I just -- well I didn't think it would matter --- there," Hera admitted.

"Master likes his cock in all our holes Englishwoman. Are you saying you English do not do such a thing. That your Master's do not take your ass and spill their seeds into them?"

Tulay's question made Hera blush. "They do, but my love did not. I have never had a man's," she blushed more crimson, "sex inside my -- ass."

The young woman smiled. "You are more pure than I thought! I have found in you a rare gem indeed. Giving Master your virgin ass will definitely make me more favorable. I will prepare you, but not today. It will take time. Hurry, let us finish and then I will leave you to bathe, but you must do so with my oils. They are the finest!"

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