The ceiling of the room was domed and decorated with painted motifs in gold on a blue-green background. There was not a surface of the room that was not embellished, but the general effect of the chamber was lofty and lovely. There were two tiers of windows, the upper ones with small colored panes divided by plasterwork.
On one wall was a layered fountain with three projecting basins over which the water flowed, each basin having its own golden faucet in the shape of a lily to add to the flow of water. The fountain was framed in solid marble as were the doorways, and the doors themselves were inlaid in mother-of-pearl and had finely chiseled locks. On three sides, the square room looked out into gardens.
The sultan’s hobby was clockmaking, and even now one ticked as they sat awaiting whatever it was that Murad had ordered of the black eunuch. Aidan studied the enormous bed upon which they sat. It was fashioned with four carved and twisted pillars and sat in a corner of the room, a large window of clear glass in the wall near its foot. Attached to the pillars was a beautiful carved and gilded wooden canopy. At the head of the bed were carved and gilded side rails. The mattress was firm, and upholstered in cloth of gold. Over it was an enormous second mattress of emerald-green silk filled with down. There were bolsters of ruby, and turquoise, and violet with matching pillows. Aidan hugged one of the violet silk pillows to her as the door to the bedchamber opened, and an exquisite girl entered the room.
She was one of the most beautiful creatures Aidan had ever seen, tiny and small-boned with huge blue eyes and silvery-blond hair. She was very, very young. Throwing off the pale pink silk robe she was wearing she fell to the floor in a gesture of total obedience.
The sultan smiled warmly. “Arise, Zora, and come to me.”
The girl ran quickly to the bed, and climbed upon it, seating herself on the other side of the sultan, and holding up her lips to him to be kissed. He willingly obliged her, running his hands over her silken body as he did so, gently teasing her budding breasts.
“This is the lady Marjallah, Zora,” he said, and then turned to Aidan. “Zora is one of my newest ikbals.”
“I have heard of the lady Marjallah. She has caused a great stir within the harem for it is said, my lord, that you prefer her above us all, even Safiye Kadin.”
Murad laughed. “I long ago learned the folly of confining myself to one woman, Zora, my pet. You may tell the ladies of my harem that although Marjallah pleased me greatly, and is very much in my favor, I shall not neglect them, nor shall any other woman ever take Safiye Kadin’s place in my heart.”
Zora hung her head, looking shamefaced. “I am rightfully rebuked, my lord,” she said softly, and Murad kissed her again.
“You see,” he said to Aidan, “what a charming model of docility Zora is, exquisite one? I have called her here so you may learn from her, but first open your legs to me again.” Reaching beneath one of the bolsters he withdrew the black silk pouch, and poured the tiny silver spheres into his palm.
Aidan shuddered, but she now knew better than to protest. She was not certain the form her punishment would take, but it began with the reinsertion of those terrible little instruments of torture. Lying back she obeyed him, and felt the cold silver slipping into her, aided by his finger.
“Zora,” said Murad, “show the lady Marjallah the movements of the Dance of the Veils. Marjallah, my exquisite one, you will follow what Zora does.”
The dainty blond slid from the bed, and watched as Aidan, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, followed her. “It is really quite simple,” said Zora, and she showed Aidan the movements involved.
“Now,” said the sultan, “you do them.” His dark eyes dared her to defy him, and once again Aidan wished she might kill him for what he was doing to her.
Trembling she repeated the movements, each change of position she forced her body into adding to her agony. Zora stood next to her, and the sultan commanded them to dance more quickly. A fine sheen of perspiration broke out over her entire body, and she could feel her heart hammering violently in her chest. For a moment she believed that she was going to die, and she welcomed the release that death would bring her, but then he commanded them to stop, and to return to the bed where he removed for a second time the silver rounds from her tortured body.
Murad motioned Zora to stimulate him further with her mouth, and the girl instantly obeyed her master. Then the sultan said, “Present your second maidenhead to me,” and Zora turned herself about so that her bottom was to her lord, the upper half of her body resting upon her arms at a lower angle. Grasping her firmly by the hips he entered the girl’s body in one thrust, and pumped against her for a short time completely overlooking Aidan who was wide-eyed at his performance. Then suddenly the sultan turned to her saying, “Kneel before Zora, my exquisite one,” and when she had obeyed him he removed his hands from the blond girl’s hips, and reaching out began to fondle Aidan’s breasts while Zora pushed herself back and forth upon his shaft.
“You see, Marjallah, you see how flawless are Zora’s manners. She is a perfect model of harem decorum, and eventually under my schooling you, too, will be a model of perfection. She does not find it difficult to obey me, and I am neither cruel nor unkind to her.” His slender, but firm fingers dug into the creamy flesh of her breasts as he crushed the tender skin leaving red marks upon it. Taking one of her nipples between his thumb and his forefinger he pinched it hard, and tugged upon it. A soft whimper escaped her. The sultan smiled, and with a grunt released himself into his blond slave.
Zora fell forward for a moment lost in a little swoon, but then she revived, and slipping from the bed ran to the fountain where a silver basin sat stored in a wall niche. Filling it she then ran to the huge fireplace, and placed the basin upon a small grate above the coals for a short minute, and then gathering several soft cloths from another wall niche returned back to the bed. Murad stood, and allowed the blond girl to bathe his now limp part. When she had finished he thanked her, and patted the kneeling slavegirl upon her blond head.
All the while this whole tableau had taken place Aidan had died a thousand little deaths. When the sultan’s manhood had grown long and hard she had desperately wanted him to plunge it into her fevered flesh. Instead she had been forced to watch him service the tiny Zora so vigorously that he had emptied himself, and now there was naught left to ease her pain. She wanted to shriek with her frustration and her outrage. Her tortured mind now added the blond Zora to her death list. Zora had taken what was rightfully hers! Aidan wished Zora dead!
Murad could tell that his proud Marjallah was close to the breaking point, and so he called to his black eunuchs to pour them some wine. He did not often indulge in alcohol as it was forbidden by the Prophet, and his drunken father had given him an example he most certainly did not wish to follow, but nonetheless it was occasionally a good restorative especially the decanter from which his black eunuchs now poured two drafts. The decanter had had added to it a strong opiate which acted as an aphrodisiac.
The wine was brought to the bed, and the sultan took one of the goblets and drank it down. “It is not for you, Zora,” he warned, “but you, my Marjallah, may drink down but half the goblet. No more, however,” he cautioned.
With trembling hand she reached out and brought the crystal goblet to her lips, tasting the first wine she had had in well over a year. It was hard not to gulp it, but she managed, replacing the goblet upon the tray held by the eunuch when she had taken the portion allowed her. The strong Cyprus wine slid into her stomach like boiling oil, and then flamed into her veins. Color began to return to her cheeks.
Murad could already feel the aphrodisiac beginning to work upon him, but he knew one thing that would restore him even more quickly. “Arise from the bed, both of you,” he commanded, “and stand facing one another at its foot.”
The two women obeyed, and Aidan wondered what new horror he had devised to torture her.
“Zora, my pet, I want you to take Marjallah into your arms and comfort her for she is in great pain.”
Horrified at what he was suggesting Aidan stepped back a pace, her distaste quite evident upon her face.
“Are you disobeying me, exquisite one?” the sultan demanded. He rolled the little silver balls about in his open palm, displaying them threateningly, sliding them from one hand to the other.
Aidan shuddered hard. “No, my lord, I am not disobeying you,” she whispered low, and she then submitted to the blond girl’s soft embrace, kneeling so that they would be of a similar height.
She could not meet Zora’s gaze, but strangely the ikbal was tender and gentle in her caresses. Murad watched them, his own ardor rising fast, as the two women’s breasts met nipple to nipple, as they fondled each other’s buttocks for Zora spoke low instructions to her reluctant partner, and in an odd, kindly way encouraged Aidan onward so that the sultan would be pleased.
“Don’t be embarrassed,” Zora whispered softly, her words not available to Murad.
“I hate him!” Aidan whispered back.
“So do I,” came the startling reply.
“Then why do you submit?”
“Because what else is there for us if we do not?” said Zora.
“Come back to the bed,” said the sultan, “and then, Zora, my pet, you will prepare her passage for my entry.”
“Of course, my lord!”
Taking Aidan’s hand Zora pulled her up, and led her back to the emerald-green coverlet. The two women climbed upon the bed, and then Zora told Aidan to lie back, and she firmly spread the older woman’s legs.
“Ohhhh!” The small shriek escaped from between Aidan’s lips as Zora’s mouth and tongue began to tease and play against her badly overstimulated and sensitive flesh. Her eyes flew back in her head as she sought Murad fearing her cry had offended him, but instead the sultan leaned over her head, and kissed her lips tenderly while gently fondling her breasts.
“There, my exquisite one, is not Zora’s mouth soothing?” He smiled warmly down at her. “When she deems you ready, my Marjallah, I will ease your discomfort entirely.” He moved himself around so that he lay on his side next to her. “Come, my love,” he said taking her hand, and placing it about his hard shaft. He nibbled at her lips. “Give me your tongue, sweet,” and he sucked upon the morsel offered. “Work me with your hand, exquisite one,” he told her, and kissed her eyelids.
“She is ready, my lord,” came Zora’s voice, and the blond girl arose from the bed.
Murad swung himself over Aidan saying, “You may go now, Zora, and as your reward Zaad will give you the replica of my manhood. You may keep it until the morning.”
“Thank you, my lord,” said Zora, and a black eunuch at her heels she hurried from the room.
Murad turned back to Aidan who lay trembling beneath him. She was like a finely tuned instrument, and very ready to play. “Tell me what you desire of me, my exquisite one?” he said softly as he sat astride her thighs, fondling his large weapon, moving it casually from one hand to another.
“I want you to make love to me,” she said low.
“You want me to fill you with my shaft, and make you weep with pleasure?”
“Yes!”
“You desire this of your free will? I have not forced you to it?”
“Yes, I desire it of my free will!” she half-sobbed. “Please! Oh, please!” she begged him, beaten.
With a look of triumph that he was unable to keep from his dark eyes he slid into her passage with one smooth thrust, and she cried with relief as he began to move vigorously upon her. Clasped between his muscled thighs she felt blessed relief begin to pour through her entire body as he brought her to the first peak. Suddenly her brain was clear again, and in place of her previous helplessness came a white-hot anger at what he had done to her. To her amazement she was able to separate her mind from her body, and while he gave her orgasm after orgasm, releasing the terrible sexual agony he had inflicted upon her, her brain allowed Aidan to slip back into a secret place, and watch all that was happening to her body. Her body felt the release, but her soul did not. When once again her mind and body melded into one entity, she fainted from the excesses that had been visited upon her.
With a shout of victory Murad poured himself into her beautiful body, and exhausted fell to one side. Within a few minutes, however, the sultan had regained his senses, and he looked to his fair partner. He revived her with kisses, and as she awoke Aidan knew that she had gone about this the wrong way. She had wanted either her freedom or her death, and they had denied her both. Now she would make them give her the death she sought. She would convince the sultan that she had been won over, and when he trusted her, she would kill him! Then they would have no choice but to kill her. It was a foolproof plan, and she felt no remorse for the suffering she would cause to Nur-U-Banu, and Safiye. Neither, she decided, was really her friend. Well, perhaps Safiye was.
The valideh, however, had used her to keep her son’s favor. She deserved to be brought down for pandering for her own son. As for Safiye she would hardly miss a man who hadn’t paid any attention to her in years. She would, at Murad’s death, have as the new sultan valideh, the power she sought in place of the love she had lost. At least Safiye had been kind, and welcomed her honestly. Safiye had been her real friend. Murad’s death would free her as it was going to free Aidan, and the lovely Zora, and all the other poor women who were prey to the incredible lust of this wicked man!
“Have I given you pleasure, my exquisite one,” he asked, “for you have certainly given me pleasure.”
Raising her eyes to him she felt her cheeks grow pink which perfectly suited her purposes. She let her sandy lashes sweep back over her gray eyes. “Oh, my lord,” she murmured, “I am ashamed to have resisted you! How could I have known? I did not, and I beg your pardon, sweet master.” She twisted her body into a kneeling position upon the mattress, her coppery hair spreading across his thighs, a perfect picture of total submission.