48 Hours on Blue Bayou Pt. 13: Juli

This Emperor, of course, had only the most beautiful, most graceful, most talented slaves in his 词, his castle. Naturally, the three finest of these served in his 词, his harem. When the time finally came for the Emperor to die, he blessed the three slaves in his harem with the promise of a long life. The gods were so impressed by this act of compassion that they extended his blessing into a life of eternal youth and vitality.

The heir to the Emperor, after a proper period of mourning, entered the harem and adopted the three slaves as his own. And his heir also did so. In just a few generations, it became known to all that these three slaves were truly blessed, and the reputation of the Emperor's harem grew with each generation of heirs.

Of course, the world is always turning, and the Emperor's land eventually came under attack by the barbarians. It was a hard war and the Emperor's forces fought bravely, but unsuccessfully. The castle was captured and the barbarians ran wild through its myriad of rooms. Tapestries were slashed. Delicate china plates were smashed. Crystals were broken.

At last, on the night of the new moon, the horde broke into the harem and captured the three slaves. As is proper for the conquerors of a harem, each slave was examined by a knowledgeable physician. Each was found to be a virgin.

The barbarian chieftain found this inconceivable. Virgins in a harem? Virgins whose talents had been extolled for generations? It was a circumstance that demanded an explanation. The ministers of the land could not make the barbarians understand the history of the harem slaves, starting with the Old Emperor, his people's love for him, and the gods' love for him and, in the proper time, his harem slaves. The concept was foreign.

Now, everyone knows that proper barbarian procedures for developing an explanation include torture. After all, isn't that what makes them barbarians?

In the end, the barbarians tortured the harem slaves from the new moon until the full moon. The gods supported the harem slaves and, on the night when the moon had lost just the slightest bit of fullness and when the barbarian chief was lying drunk at a celebration, they transported the souls of the three virgins directly to heaven, leaving only their bodies, lying as if asleep.

Eventually, the barbarian chief awoke. He was invigorated, as they say. He turned to his aides and spoke the fateful words: "Let's Fuck All the Virgins." Instantly erect, the crowd rampaged through the castle and down to the dungeons, where they fell on the virgins, only to find them lovely but lifeless.

Limp with defeat, the barbarian chieftain became a target for the enraged crowd. His end was much quicker than the trials he had ordered for the virgins. In the land, chaos reigned for a decade, until a new Emperor arose, filled his people with a sense of honor and purpose, and rebuilt the land.

And that is why, to this day, the cognoscenti understand that the time from the new moon until the full moon is not the time to welcome a new slave into one's harem. One must wait until the proper time, the time of the waning of the moon before one can fuck the virgins.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Silence fills Edward's office as Anne and I contemplate the lesson of the legend. For my part, that my Master would maintain such a lofty ideal for his slave is terribly endearing. After a proper period, Anne punches Edward's shoulder and thanks him for expounding the legend to us. I gather the tea service and we return to the kitchen.

I know it is not the place of a slave to start a conversation with a trainer, but I must let some feelings, some words, out. I kneel before my trainer, my head not bent in submission. Anne immediately recognizes my need.

"Slave, do you wish to speak?" Her tone is soft and gentle. I nod.

"You may speak, slave."

"Please, Ma'am, I need your advice. Now that I understand Master's observance of the proprieties, is it in order for his slave to tell him of her understanding, of her elevated opinion of him, of her resolve to wait on Master until it pleases him?"

Anne has no trouble with my question. "Slave, I am astonished that you could even think such thoughts! Do you not understand that such thoughts show how far from the center of your universe you are carrying your Master? Master mentioned the legend; he trusts that you will learn about the legend. Does a Master worry about the opinion of his slave? Does a Master doubt that his slave will be ready at all times to serve? Have you learned nothing from the hours Igor and I have talked to you, worked with you?"

Anne stops, but the tide of disbelief mixed with anger continues to pour from her. I am devastated. My trainer's few sentences have exposed how flimsy is my understanding of this new Path in Life. My questions all came from my ideas, my needs. They didn't come from my appreciation of what my Master needed or wanted. It was my pride that generated that speech. Truly, the old axiom about Pride has led to my fall. I am certain that my correction will be instantaneous and severe. Perhaps even de-accessioning? It is too horrible to contemplate. I fall forward, grasping my trainer's ankles. Unbelievable! I have touched my trainer!

I am wracked with sobs, disconsolate, inconsolable. And yet, my trainer withholds her hand, the hand that has variously dealt me taps to teach positions and movements, up to fierce slashes with her crop.

We maintain the tableau for long seconds. At last, Anne prods me up to a kneeling position and I strive to make the position, at least, perfect for her. Minutes pass with no words spoken. My trainer is wise! She is allowing me to bring my emotions, my raging "flight or fight" hormones, under control. Silently, I weep for such care!

"Julie, I want you to look at me. I am going to explain something to you and I want you to understand this perfectly." Her tone is flat, unemotional. The caring tones are gone. Slowly, I manage to look up at her. Her face is calm, with no hint of anger, or even of disappointment.

"Julie, it is clear that, now, you understand your error. Truly, this was a great crime against Master, against Igor, against me. Clearly, where there is a crime, there must be a correction. However, a good Master never decides on a correction in the heat of the moment. Your Master and his trainers will discuss your crime and assess your correction. When your Master feels it is appropriate, you will be told and your correction dispensed. If the lesson is learned, you will return with a clean slate. In the interim, you will return to the room Master has given you and you will remain there, out of our sight. Do you understand?

That question is like the crack of doom. Banished. Out of sight. In the room Master has given, no longer "my" room. I have barely enough energy to whisper, "Yes, Ma'am. Out of sight. Thank you, Ma'am."

The steps to the room seem interminable. The door is open and I contemplate the bed. No! I don't rate lying on such a facility provided by such a Master. I crumple to the floor, tired beyond belief, and sink into the darkness.

I don't know when, but at some time, Pat appears with a slice of dark bread and a glass of water. I recognize the rations from Navy Regulations on punishment of enlisted sailors. When the meal is consumed, I hear the clicks as Pat locks one wrist to a leg of the bed. The door lock clicks as Pat leaves, no words spoken. The silence and the clicks of the locks have been eloquent. Tears fall afresh and I descend again into the darkness.

*****

Author's Note: Our Heroine must wait until her Master and her trainers decide on her correction. Your patience is entreated for, I hope, just a short time until the next Scene is ready, possibly before the next New Moon. If you have any suggestions, of course, please send them along.

J Spe and Carole99