Lafite smiled back. He bowed low before making the girl turn around so that all could see the rest of her. Ismail noted that her hands were bound behind her with dark rope. Lafite raised them to give a better view of her rear, and raised them a bit further to show that she had no tattoo on her lower back, as so many young women did these days.
“She is unmarked, lord,” Lafite said as he turned her to face the semicircle of men again.
“And is she untouched, at least by yourself and your men?” Ismail asked.
“Of course, lord,” Lafite answered quickly. “You can see what a temptation she is, but I was mindful of our agreement. I will swear to this by whatever means you require.”
Ismail barely heard the man. The girl seemed to be emerging from whatever drugged state she was in. He could see fear in her eyes, fear that only grew as her gaze fell on him. He could not tell what color her eyes were, but they seemed to be blue. It would be a good thing if they were, but given how lovely she looked standing there it would not be what they called a ‘deal breaker’. He kept his eyes on hers as he slowly leaned back in his chair. He smiled at her.
Felicia staggered a little. Being turned around like that had made her dizzy. Or maybe it was a residual effect of the drugs they had been forcing down her throat. Or both. It was hard to think. It was hard to do much of anything. Just trying to stay upright seemed to be all she could do at the moment.
She was naked. She had been kept naked for how long? She couldn’t say. Her hands were tied. But she had been tied up in one way or another so often that this was hardly anything new. It slowly dawned on her that she was no longer on that smelly, noisy ship. The floor remained solid and still under her feet, and it was made of… tiles? Heavy tiles. And there were men seated nearby, all of them looking at her avidly. As a bound and naked captive she had been sometimes groped or fondled, but never raped. Her initial feelings of relief at that had been replaced by worry over what she was being kept for, and that had been replaced by the haze forced upon her mind when they started giving her drugs. Now those drugs were wearing off, and all the questions of what she was being kept for looked as if it was going to be answered. She would have preferred to have never found out. She started to shrink back from the men. It was so purely an automatic response that she didn’t even realize that she was doing it until the man who had brought her here seized her by the back of her neck and forced her back into place.
Ismail saw the girl becoming more aware of her state and her surroundings. She was beginning to look more like a frightened, captive female animal. It suited her. It made her even more desirable. It was time to test her reactions. He sat up again.
“Clearly, this woman is a slut,” he said in English. He pointed at her. “Look. The marks show how much of her body she exposed to the eyes of men, no doubt to inflame their lusts. But now she seems suddenly shy. Perhaps she wishes her cape back?” He laughed. His council might not clearly understand everything he had said, but they all understood his laugh, and joined in heartily. Ismail saw the girl’s confusion and her sudden shame and he smiled evilly.
“You, slut!” he barked at her. “What is your name?”
“F… F… Felicia,” she stammered. Her voice sounded as if it would be quite pleasing when her throat wasn’t quite so dry. Ismail turned to his spy.
“What do you think of her, Assam?” he asked. “Do you find her beautiful? Is she desirable?”
Assam could barely tear his eyes away from the girl’s teats. “Indeed she is, lord,” he answered. “She is very beautiful.”
“Felix?” Ismail turned to the ex-legionnaire. The man looked much more Teutonic than Gallic with his close-cropped pale hair and angular features. Well, it was not called the Foreign Legion for no reason.
“As you say, lord,” Felix replied. The man was doing his best to appear bored. “She has very nice legs. And a very nice ass.”
“Yes, she does,” Ismail agreed. “Turn her around for us again.”
Lafite complied. The girl whimpered faintly, but didn’t resist when he pulled her bound hands up again.
“I see that she has two small dimples to either side of the base of her spine,” Ismail said. “Such women are supposed to be especially passionate. Some of them so much so that they will give themselves to any man who promises her pleasure.”
“Indeed.” It was Selim who spoke. “And see how she keeps her legs together but there is still an open space just between her thighs even when she does that. It is a thing that men look for when they seek a woman well suited to be a slave.”
“Show us, Selim,” Ismail said with a wave of his hand. “You know much about these things.”
The eunuch trundled over to the girl. Lafite stepped aside for him and the girl looked around to see what was going on. She tried to cry out when she saw Selim looming over her, but all that came out of her mouth was a feeble croak. Then Selim seized her and roughly turned her to face Ismail.
“Put your knees together, slut,” Selim ordered. The girl obeyed. She was clearly too terrified to even think about fighting.
“See here, lord?” the eunuch pointed between the girl’s thighs, but did not touch her there. “There is a small open space between her thighs and her cunt. Such women are known to take great pleasure in sex.”
“Yes, I see,” Ismail nodded. He raised his eyes to meet the girl’s. They were still full of fear, but he could see pleading there now as well. “Is this true, slut?” he demanded. “Do you take great pleasure in sex?” The girl’s mouth worked, but she did not answer.
“No matter,” Ismail shrugged. “We will find out soon enough. We will find out many things, slut, and you will learn many things. Hold her still, Selim.”
He rose from his chair and approached the girl. She tried to shrink away, but Selim stood behind her, as solid and immovable as a stone wall, holding her by her upper arms. Ismail reached out with both hands to cup those round breasts. The flesh was soft and warm, firm but yielding to the pressure of his fingers.
“Please,” she whimpered pitifully. “Please, no…”
Ismail slapped her, just hard enough for it to sting her cheek. “You will speak only when you are spoken to, slut!” he snapped. He went back to fondling her breasts, teasing the dark pink nipples with his thumbnails.
“These are quite delectable,” he called out to his council. “Smoother than the finest silk, and softer than the softest pillow. And the shape of them is designed to make men mad with lust.” He traced out the pale triangles of her tan lines. “And look how much of them she left exposed for men to see. And down here,” he stepped back and to one side so that all could see him tracing out the pale triangle centered on her loins. “See how much of her body was exposed, how much left bare.” He pinched a bit of her pussy hair between his thumb and forefinger and tweaked it. The girl twitched and made a high-pitched squeaking noise.
“Turn her around, Selim, and bend her over.”
Felicia was beyond terrified now. The drugs had kept her mind fogged, but now everything was sharp and clear, so sharp and so clear that it was as if her mind was frozen in ice. She couldn’t move, even if the huge dark-skinned man with the strangely high, breathy voice wasn’t holding her in an unbreakable grip. He bent her over sharply and pulled her hands up as the other man had, exposing her pussy to the full view of all the men there. She wanted to scream, to fight, to yell… and she could not get her body to move at all.
“Spread your legs, slut.” Felicia obeyed. Apparently she could move her body when she was ordered to. She felt hands spreading her pussy lips wide.
“This is quite delectable as well,” Ismail said. “Her lips are plump and full and pink, as you can all see.” He let go of the girl, ostentatiously wiping his fingertips across her ass. It felt as smooth as her breasts, but much, much firmer, the springy, yielding firmness you could only find in young, healthy flesh.
“Stand her up again,” he ordered. Selim complied, turning the girl to face the semicircle of chairs again. Ismail sat back down in his chair and regarded the blonde young woman closely.
“What do you think of her mouth, Assam?”
“It is quite lovely,” the spy answered quickly.
“Yes. Do you suppose that she has given pleasure with it as well? I do not mean kissing.”
Assam snickered, as did Felix. The other men picked up the cue and laughed as well. Ismail saw the girl actually blush as she looked down and away.
“See,” he said. “She is ashamed to hear us talking about it. How often has she taken a cock into that pretty little mouth and sucked on it to give her lover pleasure?” He laughed nastily, and his council joined in.
“Yes, she is desirable. She is very desirable, but she is untrained. She is also filthy from her long journey here. Up close she smells of sweat and dirt and grease. Selim, take her to the baths. She is to clean herself thoroughly under your close supervision. When she is fit for company, send word to me.”
“It will be done, lord,” Selim nodded. “When you next see her she will be freshly bathed and perfumed.”
“See to it that she is wearing nothing but that perfume,” Ismail said with a lazy smile. Assam and Felix laughed briefly at that. The other members of his council joined in just a half-second too late.
Felicia stumbled along in the grip of the huge, strange-voiced man. Behind her, she could still hear the others laughing, and the sound made her sick.
Chapter Five
Under any other circumstances, Felicia would have found the baths enjoyable. They occupied a very large room decorated in Eastern motifs, with colorful draperies, mosaics on the walls and floor, and scented candles burning in ornate sconces. There were two wide and deep pools, full of warm water and set with blue tiles. After so many days kept prisoner in that dark, tiny compartment of the ship, except for those few times they let her out to go to the head, she would have been grateful for the opportunity to wash off all the accumulated sweat and dirt. But her mind kept straying to her immediate future. That set her stomach to fluttering unpleasantly and her hands to shaking. She barely noticed how fine the scented soaps were even as she used them to wash herself. And all the while, that big, bulky man in the loose-fitting clothes kept watch over her, standing as still as a statue, his face expressionless but his small, dark eyes watchful.
‘Watchful’ was the word, she thought. She could see no sign of carnal interest in those eyes, and that only added to her fear and worry. It had been a terrible experience, being displayed naked in front of those men, as if she was livestock instead of a woman. It had been even worse when they moved her this way and that to better display this or that part of her body, making it clear to her that they were interested in her as a pretty, young female, but somehow did not regard her as a person. There was a word for people who were treated like that: Slave. Was she a slave? She shuddered, dropped the soap again and had to grope for it in the warm water. She didn’t want to be a slave!
She thought back to that awful episode just a little while ago, and to the men. The one who had sat in the big chair was obviously the one in charge. He had looked so…normal in his neatly tailored suit. But on his head he wore that simple headdress that made her think of movies about deserts and Arabs, and his eyes had all but devoured her every time he looked at her. She shuddered again as she remembered the feel of his hands on her body, so sure and so possessive. She fought back a sudden urge to vomit. It was made easier by the fact that she had barely been fed at all during her time on the ship.
The other men were just as frightening in their own ways. There had been the tall, broad-shouldered blonde one with the cold blue eyes. He’d been dressed in what looked like a uniform, which made her think of Nazis. The old, bent, crippled one had sized her up like a prize horse, the rat like little one had all but drooled over her, and the others, dressed, like the old one, in flowing robes and headdresses, had nearly done the same, even if they hadn’t said much. She shuddered yet again. There was no doubt in her mind that they were going to rape her, probably soon after she’d cleaned herself up. That thought brought another wave of nausea and also a sinking sensation of despair. She had no idea where she was. She didn’t think that anyone was looking for her, not even Marcello. He was probably too terrified of his nasty bitch of a wife to try, and she’d probably given him some bullshit story to explain why his pretty blonde playmate wasn’t around anymore, along with a warning to let the matter drop if he knew what was good for him.
She didn’t want to think about it, but she couldn’t help thinking about it. What were they going to do to her? Aside from the obvious, of course. She thought that she could survive them raping her. She wouldn’t like it at all, but she could survive it. But after that, what might they do to her? Terrifying possibilities crept into her mind, paralyzing both it and her body.
“Finish,” the bulky man said in his strange voice, snapping Felicia out of her paralysis. She looked up at him, then quickly looked away and went on with washing herself. Finally, she laid the soap aside and stood up in the bath, trembling, holding her arms out to indicate that she was done.
***
“Are you pleased with the girl, lord?” Lafite asked as they sat down to drink coffee.
“Is she everything that I promised?”
“You know that I am, and you know that she is,” Ismail replied. “I will reward you handsomely for bringing her to me.”
“I regret that I could not bring you a virgin,” Lafite said.
“Virgins are quite overrated,” Ismail replied. “This girl will have enough to do learning her place and duties here. It would be tiresome to have to teach her absolutely everything.”
“I did not think of that, lord,” Lafite said as he took a sip of the coffee. It was black, and very strong. He seemed to have a little difficulty with it at first. He always did. Perhaps he would have liked some sugar or cream to put in it, but Ismail never had any available at the table, as he did not use either of them himself. Had Lafite ever asked for some, he would have graciously provided it, but until then it amused Ismail to watch the man struggle with the drink.