The Lesson Ch. 02: Dinner

The house was large, and confusing. Kajira took several hours exploring, from the servants' quarters at the top of the house to the kitchens below and everything in between. Everywhere she went, the servants bowed low to her and it was confusing. She was used to being the one prostrate on the floor, not the other way around. Finally she made her way to a courtyard in which a pool shimmered and trees grew, housing a multitude of small, brightly colored birds. They darted and flew overhead, their soft twitterings soothing to Kajira's turbulent emotions.

Was she really here?

How did she come to be in such a house, with such a Master? She hugged herself for joy and sat down by the pool. Little bronze fish scattered away in the pool beneath her, the light reflecting on the bottom of the pool in glimmering rings. "How wonderful!" she gasped as a larger fish came sailing grandly by, his mouth opening and closing in a silent conversation. She imitated him for a moment, then giggled.

"His name is Akeem." A voice startled her and she drew back. "Don't be afraid. I'm Malek, Amir's younger brother." He stepped out from behind a towering fern and smiled down at Kajira. "The fish. His name is Akeem. It means 'wise'. As children Amir and I would come to the pool and ask Akeem questions, hoping one day the Wise One would answer."

"Did he?" Kajira asked softly.

"No. Useless bastard." He picked up a pebble and tossed it into the pool then shoved his hands into his pockets. "I hear you're my brother's new slave."

Kajira bowed her head.

"An excellent slave, it would seem." Malek grinned. "Would you like me to show you where Amir and I used to build forts as children?"

"O yes!" Kajira said, bouncing up on her toes. "I would like that very much, please!"

Malek held out his arm and Kajira hesitated. "I...I'm not sure..." she began, but Malek shushed her.

"Amir won't mind if you take my arm. It's perfectly proper."

Kajira took his arm and they strolled through the house out the back door and into a lush and verdant garden. Jasmine bloomed, its heady fragrance filling Kajira's nose. Everywhere was a riot of color, with flowers of every shape and size. Several gardeners tended to the plants, one staking up a drooping vine and another trimming back a bushy shrub. Kajira breathed deeply, the intoxicating scents almost dizzying her head.

"Do you live here?" Kajira asked shyly.

"I do." Malek answered. "Until I marry."

"I see." Kajira touched a peony wonderingly. "And when will that be?"

"When my older brother chooses my wife." Malek said, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

Kajira looked up at him quickly. "Master will choose your wife?"

"Yes, since our parents are both dead he is the head of the household and will choose my bride when he sees fit."

Kajira pondered this. It seemed odd that a Highborn wasn't able to direct his own destiny in this way, but she held her tongue.

"Here." Malek pulled back some overhanging branches and motioned for Kajira to duck beneath. On the other side were several rudimentary stone edifices, held together by mud and straw. "Our forts."

Kajira giggled softly. "I cannot imagine Master playing, somehow." She said, putting her hand over her mouth in surprise.

"He used to." Malek said shortly. "But come, you will be late for the meal if we delay any longer." He took her arm and they ducked back into the garden and into the house.

***

Dima was waiting for Kajira in her room, a lightly steaming bowl of fragrant water ready, clothes laid out on the bed. Kajira entered the room and bowed to Dima who bowed back. The older woman motioned for Kajira to come to the wash table, where she efficiently stripped the girl of her garments and began to wash her. Kajira was embarrassed. She was a slave, not one to be washed by a servant! She tried to take the cloth from Dima but the woman held it firmly and shook her finger at Kajira admonishingly. Kajira subsided, lost in thought.

I am a slave to my Master, she thought, no longer a slave of the Palace. It was a strange thought. Dima dried the girl with a soft linen cloth and led her to the bed where the garments were laid out. Kajira looked at them, confused. She turned towards Dima. "I am to wear...this?" she pointed at the scraps of fabric on the bed and Dima nodded firmly.

Kajira flushed. The outfit would barely cover her private bits, and the semi-transparency of the rest of the fabric would leave little to the imagination. Dima lifted a curious object, flat panels of fabric with lacing up the back, and shimmied it down over Kajira's body, arranging and tightening it until Kajira could barely breathe. Her breasts were pushed up so far that they jiggled with every motion, drawing the eye. Dima smiled and nodded. Kajira blushed to imagine what she must look like.

Next came the diaphanous skirt, the smoky fabric swirling around Kajira's legs like vapor. She moved her hips and the shimmering fabric moved with her sensuously. Kajira ran her hands down her sides to her hips, feeling the silky smoothness of the garment.

"It's beautiful." She said softly and Dima nodded. Finally the shoes. Delicate sandals with slender heels and straps that Dima fastened up Kajira's legs. She stood back and admired her handiwork, smiling.

"Thank you, Dima." Kajira bowed to the older woman. Dima bowed back, clearly pleased. The sound of a gong reverberated through the house and Kajira jumped. "O! Time for supper!" she hurried out the door and down the hall towards Amir's study, where she knelt at the door and knocked softly.

Footsteps, then the door opened. "You may rise, Kajira." Amir said. Kajira kissed his foot before rising. He held her out at arm's length and studied her. "You look exquisite, my little dove." He tucked her arm into his and began down the hall.

"Master..." Kajira began uncertainly.

"You may speak freely, I have told you that, Kajira."

"Should I not walk behind you?" she asked softly.

"Sometimes you will, when we are on high protocol. But tonight you will be on my arm as I command." He led the way into the dining room and pulled out a chair for Kajira. She sat down wonderingly. Leaning over, he whispered in her ear "Normally you would be at my feet."

Kajira looked down at his feet, eyes wide, and he laughed. "Oh, little dove how you delight me!"

Malek came in and seated himself, as did an elderly aunt who was introduced to Kajira as Auntie Sayyida. The food was brought in, delicious and plentiful, and Kajira's belly growled.

Malek laughed. "Kajira, are you not accustomed to such rich food?" He joked,

Kajira began to tremble with uncertainty. She was not a Highborn, and yet here she was at the table of a nobleman and his family. Her head reeled. How did this come to be, she wondered. Amir put his hand over hers comfortingly and she calmed a bit.

"Kajira's diet is none of your concern, Malek." Auntie Sayyida said, placidly chewing her way through a flatbread.

Kajira flushed, embarrassed to be the center of attention. Amir began to talk to his younger brother about politics and as the two bickered and argued Auntie Sayyida studied Kajira.

"You're a pretty one." She observed, through a mouthful of rice.

"Thank you, Auntie." Kajira replied, unsure if that was the correct way to address the woman. She sipped delicately at her soup and tried to calm herself.

"Amir has never taken a slave before." The old woman observed.

"Has he not?" Kajira asked, spoon poised halfway to her mouth.

"No, he has not. And it is not for the lack of possibilities." Auntie Sayyida winked, and Kajira stifled a giggle.

"He is a handsome man." Kajira said.

"And more importantly, a good man." Auntie Sayyida said significantly.

Kajira's eyes lingered on her Master as he spoke. How beautiful he was to her, how strong and intelligent. And good. "A good man." She murmured as a smile played on Auntie Sayyida's lips.

"You will serve him well." The old woman said.

Their food was removed and more brought out, spiced meats and tender vegetables, succulent fruits and risen bread. Kajira's mouth watered. She had never been this close to so much food before. Her hand hovered over several possibilities, before Amir chose for her. Expertly slicing into the breast of some exotic fowl, he laid the slivers on her plate and then added figs and bread. Kajira ate. She sipped her wine but it made her feel dizzy and unlike herself.

When the wine came around again Amir put his hand over Kajira's glass. "No more for my slave. She is not used to it."

Kajira glanced up at him through her long lashes. How can this man of whom I know so little know me so well? She wondered. Auntie Sayyida dozed peacefully and the men argued on as Kajira ate dreamily, looking about herself. The rich tapestries on the walls spoke of epic battles fought ages ago, spoke of this family who had been victorious in war and prosperous in peace. Kajira allowed her mind to drift back to this afternoon, and her training lesson in how to please her Master. She remembered the feeling of his thick member in her mouth, the rich, musky scent of his manhood and the taste of his bliss on her tongue. Dreamy eyed, she let out a little sigh.

"Is everything to your satisfaction, little dove?" Amir asked her. Shaken from her reverie she blinked.

"Yes, Master. Everything is exquisite. Thank you for allowing this girl to sit at your table tonight." He tipped her face up and kissed her lips.

Malek snorted. "When will you allow me to have such delights, brother?"

"When you become man enough to handle them, brother." Amir replied, his voice dangerously smooth.

Malek stood from the table and threw down the date he had been eating, then stormed away. Amir shook his head.

"It might be that a wife would settle him, Amir." Auntie Sayyida said, rousing from her nap.

"He is not grown enough for a wife, Auntie." Amir retorted, rising to his feet. Kajira shadowed his actions, staying close by his side. "I think we will retire to the gardens for a stroll, Auntie. Enjoy your evening."

Auntie Sayyida waved them off with one hand, the other one busy bringing a dripping peach segment to her mouth.

"Take my arm." Amir ordered, and Kajira instantly obeyed. They sauntered from the room and down the airy corridors towards the pleasure gardens. The evening air was warm and fragrant with the scent of the frangipani trees that lined the walk. They strolled for some time in the darkness, little darts of light flittering here and there from the light of fireflies.

"I have to go away for some time." Amir said, finally. Kajira's heart dropped.

"Can I come with you?" she asked, before she realized how brazen the words sounded.

"I'm afraid you can't, little dove." He stroked her hair. "I will return to you."

"Where do you go to, Master?" She asked, moving her cheek into the curve of his hand.

"Across the Blighted Sea for trade, my dove. It is no place for a woman."

They walked slowly back to the house, Kajira's grip on her Master very tight indeed. When they returned to the corridor with Amir's study, he stopped and opened the door, pulling her inside.

"I would have you pour me a drink." He said, indicating the sideboard where the various bottles of liquor were kept.

"Yes, Master. What drink does Master desire?" she asked, a smile touching her lips.

Amir looked at her inquisitively. "Does this slave know how to make drinks?" he asked.

"This slave served the Sultans wives for five years, Master. She is most proficient."

"Then I will have a Devil's Scimitar." He commanded. Kajira went to the sideboard and busied herself with bottles and a glass. She put the drink on a small tray and walked gracefully back to Amir, then knelt, offering the drink up to him.

"For Master's pleasure." She said softly.

He took the drink and held it to the light, then swirled it in the glass, sniffing it. Then he touched it to his lips. Kajira waited, breathless. He took a sip and shut his eyes.

"Perfect." He pronounced and Kajira gave a little involuntary squeak of happiness. He took her hand and sat, pulling her down onto his lap. She snuggled into his chest happily as he sipped his drink.

"Master..." Kajira began uncertainly.

"Yes, little dove?" Amir stroked her hair gently, admiring the burnished gleam of it in the candlelight.

"Am I to be your...only slave?" She asked, hiding her face in his chest after asking such an audacious question.

"You are to be my only personal slave, yes. I have others who do labor for the household, but you will be the only one I take to my bed." He reassured her.

"O, thank you Master!" she cried, but then a small frown creased her brow.

"What is it, my girl?" Amir traced the furrow with his finger, smiling.

"Someday you will take a wife, and then what shall happen to me?" Kajira's voice was little more than a whisper.

"Do not fret about that, little one. Enjoy each day as it comes."

"Yes, Master."

They sat entwined like that for a while longer, then Amir slid Kajira off his lap gently and said, "I would like to show you something. Come with me."

He led the way to a tall cupboard in the corner of the room. As tall again as a man and a half and a large armstretch wide, it was an imposing piece of furniture. Amir pulled a key fob from his pocket and found the key to open the cupboard, fitting it in the brass lock snugly. With a little snick the door swung open.

Kajira gazed inside the cupboard, unable to move, to speak.

It was full of punishment implements.

Paddles, straps and whips. Restraints, gags and spreader bars. Things Kajira had no idea what their use was, but her knees trembled to imagine. Dozens and dozens of items lined the cupboard neatly, every thing in its place. Amir stepped back and swept his arm in an arc, indicating the contents of the cupboard.

"What do you think?" he asked, finally, an enigmatic smile on his face.

"I..." Kajira's mind refused to frame words for the emotions roiling through her head. This is a safe place, she thought, why is he showing me all this?

"Kajira. Look at me." Amir commanded, and instantly her eyes flew to his face. "Does this frighten you?"

"A...a little." Her voice was tiny.

"These are things that I use to keep order, to correct misbehavior. Sometimes I use them because I want to, because I enjoy using them."

"Did...did you enjoy what you did to me at the Palace?" she asked, eyes fixed searchingly on his.

He hesitated. "I would be lying if I said that it didn't arouse me to some degree. But I wouldn't have had you punished like that, not so severely."

"But you would have had me punished?"

"Not for that. Perhaps for my amusement. But as I have said, in time you will grow to love the kiss of the whip, the sting of the cane."

"I don't understand." Kajira's eyes were full of unshed tears.

"Oh my darling. In time it will all make sense." He took out a slender, short crop and brushed it against her cheek softly. She flinched and looked away. "Kajira..." Amir said, his voice thick with desire, turn around."

Kajira turned obediently, heart beating like a trapped bird in the cage of her chest. She felt Amir's hands on the laces of her top and she gasped, but didn't move. Quickly he unlaced it and bade her raise her arms. In a moment the garment was on the floor and Kajira stood before him, breasts jutting out temptingly.

"M...Master?" she implored.

"I'm going to give you another lesson, Kajira." He said, circling her in a predatory manner. "You had one of pain, and one of pleasure. This one will combine the two." He took the crop and with the flat tip he flicked each of her nipples, quickly bringing them to attention. She gasped, more surprised than anything. He continued to use the tip of the crop to tease her nipples, circling the pink buds and flicking softly across the peaks. In a few minutes Kajira was moaning, her body undulating with the movements of the crop, in a sensual dance of desire.

Without warning, Amir brought the crop back and smacked her nipple with enough force to make it sting. Kajira yelped, but didn't cover her breasts. Her eyes were closed, head thrown back. He teased the other breast, gauging her reaction, and when he decided she was once again in a sensual trance he raised the crop and smacked her other nipple, a bit harder this time.

"Aaahhh!" Kajira cried out, arching her back. The pain was slight, but bearable and mingled curiously with the pleasure. He continued to tease and smack, running the crop under her breasts to raise them and letting them fall for the pleasure of watching them bounce, circling her and observing every nuance of her submission from the exact pink shade of her elongated nipples to the tone of her breathing.

The little crop rose and fell repeatedly on her now rosy breasts, Kajira's breathing was rapid and shallow and her moans filled the room. With each smack of the crop her head would go back with the momentary sting, then come forward again as she experienced the pleasure of the teasing. He kept at this for some few minutes, teasing, smacking, teasing, smacking until he was certain the girl was on the edge of her arousal. He slid his hand up underneath her gauzy skirt and found her dripping core, plunging two fingers deep inside her. She let out an animalistic cry and moved her hips against his hand. With his fingers still inside her, he guided her back towards his desk until she bumped into it. He pushed her back until she was lying on her back across the desk, legs splayed wide, hips dancing to the rhythm of his thrusts.

He stood back for a moment and jerked her skirt up and away from her legs, exposing her fully. She was so aroused that she didn't even attempt to cover herself, only looked up at him with lust-glazed eyes, waiting for whatever he would do next.

He lowered his chin and looked at her. "Kajira, I'm going to use the crop on your sex now. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master." She replied, never breaking eye contact. He moved closer and brought out the crop once again, this time angling it vertically to align with her pussylips. He stroked her for another few moments, teasing her clit out of its hood, until the gleaming pink nub stood out proudly from the slick folds of flesh. With one lightning quick motion he brought the crop down, flicking more than smacking her engorged clit. She let out a noise halfway between a moan and a scream, and her fingers found the edges of the desk where she clung to it like a drowning person to a life raft.

Inside her head it was a kaleidoscope of pleasure and pain, fear and lust, trust and terror. She was beyond aroused by his treatment of her body, her breasts tingled from their punishment and her pussy was on fire. He continued to crop her now dripping slit, smacking the lips then the clit then her mound until she was squirming on the desk and making noises of pure abandonment.

"Do you want to climax?" Amir murmured in her ear, and she nodded frantically.

"Yes, please, Master! This slave needs to climax very badly!" she begged him. He flicked the tip of the crop across her clit again and again, making her body twitch and writhe. She lay there, open and exposed, her inner thighs and cunt blotched red and pink from the crop, little squishy noises from where the crop flicked her soaking wet clit filling the room.

She felt her passion mounting until everything was a blur of color and light and her body was weightless and the exquisite pleasure of her orgasm was so sharp it was almost like a pain and that made it even better. As she climaxed, Amir smacked her clit over and over, with more force this time, and she juddered and cried out his name over and over as she exploded in a shower of pussy juice.

She lay there panting, and Amir brought the crop up to her face. "You have nearly ruined my favorite toy, Kajira." He laughed softly. "Lick it clean." He brought the instrument to her lips and nudged them open. Reluctantly at first, but then with more vigor, she sucked and licked the tip of the crop clean of her juices. He dipped it into them again and they shared the nectar this time, their tongues intertwining around the leather of the crop.