Overseer of the Harem Ch. 09

Bagoas bowed, and chose his words with great care. "My lord, Allah the Clement, the Equitable One, has certainly rewarded his faithful servant with beautiful possessions. That I was able to help you obtain such riches gladdens my heart."

"Ah, Bagoas, my honorable harem master. Your words are true. The slavegirls are a decoration and a treasure to the Kasbah. But now, eunuch, consider the Pearl you see before you. I know you have no interest in beautiful breasts, swelling rear moons or fine lower flowers except as your duty directs you. But tell me of this woman I have chosen."

Bagoas dug deep in his mind for the most flattering things he could say with discretion. "My lord, truly the All-Compassionate Allah guided your hand when you saw this woman. All you gave for her was small compared to the great beauty and prestige she brings to you. Beside her the slavegirls are as nothing."

"Bagoas, you have said true," replied the Governor. Hearing their conversation the Pearl began to relax a bit. Perhaps her fears had been greater than needed. She knew her husband valued her beyond all things.

"Therefore," the master continued, "we must be careful indeed that no mark shall disturb her perfect skin. I think the thong must be discarded, and only hands shall strike that delectable bottom." He turned to look at the quivering slavegirls. "She ordered pain to my lovely possessions. Shall you not take your turn and inflict pain against her?" Horrified, the slaves backed away and cowered against the wall. They would never dare raise a hand against their mistress.

"What, you have no taste for it?" said the Governor. "You were entrusted to Bagoas' care, and she caused him to forsake his responsibilities, thereby dishonoring my harem master. Bagoas, will you strike the blows?"

Bagoas shuddered inwardly, but tried to maintain his composure as he bowed low to his master. "My Lord, forgive me..." he began.

The Governor chuckled again. "I see, I see. There is no one who will dare help me teach a lesson to this my property. It seems I must do it myself." Durrah shuddered to hear these words. Never had she felt discipline or pain before. The humiliation was worse than the impending blow.

The master moved to a position behind her. Opening his palm, he swung his hand against her ass. A strong slap resounded in the room, and Durrah screamed. The slavegirls winced and cowered further back on the pillows. Bagoas stood by the door, arms folded and face impassive, but his mind in turmoil at a sight he had never thought to see.

The master swung his hand again. Again his wife screamed. Her ass was turning red from the slapping. He struck again, and she tried to move away from his hand. He grabbed her hip to hold her still and struck once again. Her scream filled the room.

"Did the slaves scream like this, my lady wife? Did their asses burn as yours does? Did a small cup of grape juice warrant this punishment?" He swung his hand twice more, and stepped back to observe the redness of her ass. "Bagoas, release her hands and lead her to her chamber," he ordered. Bagoas gently raised the sobbing woman and freed her from the thong binding her. He opened the lattice work door of her chamber and pulled back the curtain.

Durrah gained a bit of control. Still naked, and with her stinging butt bright red, nevertheless she pulled herself up to her full height and passed into her chamber with all the dignity she could muster. Bagoas let the curtain fall and the lattice door closed over the muffled sobbing coming out of the room.

The Governor looked sternly at Bagoas. "It is well, harem master, that the boy was sent to me. You have done your duty. Nothing more need be said of this matter again. See the slave girls well tended." With these words he left the room.

Bagoas struggled to control himself, breathing deep breaths of relief as his master departed. Looking at the three shivering slave girls, he said, "Get the soft ointments from the chest. You can tend to each other." Saiesha went to the chest and removed a pot of unguent. "No," Bagoas directed her. "There are pots of precious myrrh, which have never been used except on the mistress. Today, they are yours for they will help ease your welts." Saiesha looked at him in amazement, but then picked up the alabaster pot of myrrh and moved to comfort the other slave girls with its soothing warmth. Each welted ass was covered with the precious paste, and the girls began to feel relief. Soon they were rubbing the warm ointment into breasts and pussies as well. Knowing how pleasure can follow pain, and wise in the ways of the girls to comfort each other, Bagoas turned and walked from the harem.

Hamid was waiting in the courtyard. As Bagoas approached Hamid looked at his teacher in wonderment. "You did well, lad," Bagoas told the young eunuch. "The master has set things straight in the harem. This afternoon's ill work will pass. Nothing more need be said." Shaken in mind and soul, but still still struggling to maintain firm control of himself, Bagoas retired to his quarters attended by his servant.