Kismet Ch. 01

"Afsoon, you are only going to force them to hurt you. Come back to the pool. There is no way to escape this life."

She turned and looked at Malay. Her lips trembled and the tears she'd been trying to hold back fell from her thick lashes. They splashed on her cheeks, slipped down the curve of her jaw, only to become lost in the deep cleavage of her breasts. Afsoon crumbled to the floor. Her hands moved to hide her blotchy features as her body became wracked in sobs that were pulled from her chest. Malay climbed from the pool, dismissed the guards with a quick wave and wrapped the trembling woman within her warm embrace.

The two women held each other for a long time. Afsoon's sobs soon turned to hiccups and Malay's soothing words soon quieted to a soft hum. Eventually she pulled away from Afsoon and motioned back to the pool of water. Steam still rose from its surface. "It is time," she whispered, moving her hand to the knife that Afsoon had discarded, "lay down and be still."

Afsoon's body trembled as she lay on the hard surface next to the pool. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on something other than the soft touch of Malay's hands moving across her downy sex. A warm sensation floated through her, bringing a moan of pleasure from her lips. Afsoon looked down and saw that Malay had massaged soap and oil into the thick curls. She watched, now transfixed with curiosity as the woman scrapped away the hairs of her sex. Each touch was done swiftly and with great skill. When it was over, her pussy was bare. A soft pink rose up from her ivory skin; Malay reassured her that before she saw Risay the flesh would be the creamy color it had been before.

Afsoon sneered, muttering low that she cared not for how Risay saw her and prayed that he would die before he reached her side. The swift slap that landed on Afsoon's cheek caught the dark-haired beauty off guard. She shrieked, scrambled back from Malay and stared at her. "You are not to speak of Master in that way!" Malay shouted, then closed her eyes. Afsoon watched her, wondering what this woman saw in the man that held her life in his hands.

"Get back in the pool. I will finish preparing you and..."

"I'm sorry I upset you," Afsoon admitted, interrupting Malay's words, "I do not want to be here though. I do not belong here. I am..."

"You are Afsoon, the daughter of Hera and Azlan."

"You know who I am?"

"Yes. I am the only one that does. My Master... our Master beds all of us, but only shares his darkest secrets with me. I know what he has planned for you. It will not be easy for you, but because he desires you, this pleases me. I love him and if preparing you makes him happy... then the rewards will be mine to reap."

Afsoon could not help but notice the sound of both admiration and desire in Malay's voice. "But why accept this life?"

Malay smiled as she washed Afsoon. "It is the only life I know. The only one I wish to know."

"Not I. I will live another..." Afsoon did not know if her words were a promise to herself or a statement to simply reassure herself that all was not lost.

****

Risay sipped at his wine. His eyes had never strayed too far from the trembling girl who sat on a cushion to the left of him. She'd been prepared by his most trusted woman. Malay sat to his right. A bracelet encrusted with rubies adorned her wrist. The bauble had been presented to her when she had presented him with Afsoon, scrubbed clean and free of all hair but the glorious strands that tumbled from her head to curl down her back.

He reached out and cupped the slave girl's pussy. His fingers invaded the space that no other man had touched since he'd purchased her. She tried to clamp her muscles closed and scramble away from his touch. She failed, and Risay's laughter echoed through the room.

He had waited most of the day to sample the dark-haired wench. Now she sat next to him, shaking as if she were cold, when he knew it was the fear in her chest that caused her to tremble. Yes, he told himself, she should fear him. Malay had shared with him how she'd tried to run away, explaining the small cut on Afsoon's palm. He found the attempt at escape thrilling. The woman he'd purchased had spark. Risay liked spark; it was the challenge of extinguishing it that made each new addition to his harem exciting.

Risay rose from where he'd been dining, picked up the silver chain that hung limp against Afsoon's breast. He tugged on it, firmly but not too harshly. Afsoon stared at her feet, refusing to rise to the knowing pull. Risay frowned, smirked and tugged harder. Again Afsoon refused. A chuckle rose from his lips and he sneered at the top of his newest prize's head. Without a word he wrapped the chain around his fist and turned away. He dragged his slave across the floor. Felt her scrambling to right herself, only to stumble and land on the floor. Not once did Risay stop or slow his stride, if anything he sped up. He felt the answering tug on the chain, gripped it harder and pulled the links sharply. The knot slid tighter around Afsoon's neck. A gasp of fright left her lips and he knew soon she would be clawing at her neck hoping to find the air her lungs desperately craved.

Only when he reached his private chambers did Risay release the cord. He watched the almost blue features of his slave slowly return to the heated humiliated blush of a girl put in her place. She drew in great gulps of air as she worked loose the knot that had slipped tighter. The chain was released from the cord at her neck by her Master's hands. "You almost killed me," she hissed.

"Almost."

Afsoon glared at the man before her and began to speak, but stopped short when she realized what rooms she had been dragged to. His rooms. The fear of the situation she was in returned tenfold and she stood up, turned to flee, but felt only the grasp of imprisonment as Risay's hands locked onto one of her arms and dragged her back.

A scream erupted from Afsoon's throat, followed by pleas of mercy. All went ignored, not only by Risay, but also by the men who stood outside his quarters, armed and ready to aid their leader if need be. It would be hours before Afsoon's cries of pain became sobs of acceptance. By morning she was willing to appease her Master with false coos of adoration, worship his manhood with caresses and kisses. In her mind though, she held onto hope... her father ruled over all of Azerbaidistan all she had to do was remain within the territory her father commanded.