Chapter Four

Caroline spent most of the following day lounging around, chatting with the other women. Late in the afternoon she was sent for again.

“He must have the hots for you,” Sophie said as she got Caroline ready. “Twice in succession is unusual.”

Caroline had her pubic hair shaved again. Then Sophie said she had received some special instructions. Caroline was to have some henna tattoos. First Sophie traced a pattern of little circles around Caroline’s nipples, and then an elaborate star-shape was inscribed on her shaved public mound. Caroline looked down as it was being done; she liked the pretty patterns and the dark red colour. This time she was taken naked into the Emir’s presence, again crawling forward to meet him. As before, the old woman sat by his side. Was she simply there to translate, or did she serve some special erotic function? Did the Emir only enjoy sex in the presence of others?

The old woman rummaged inside the Emir’s garments and pulled out his cock. “It’s a nice one, isn’t it, dear,” she said, and cackled. She told Caroline to kneel and suck it. This she did until the Emir’s cock was hard.

“Now, my dear,” said the old woman, “today a little variation. The Emir wishes to be serviced. He wants to take it easy while you do all the work. So he’s going to lie back, and he wants you to get on top.”

Caroline had never tried this before. She assumed that all men liked to be in a dominant position while they fucked. Wasn’t that natural? But she was beginning to see that her ideas of what was normal were somewhat circumscribed. There were sexual possibilities she had never considered.

“Kneel over him, with your legs on each side,” the old woman ordered.

Caroline did so. The old woman pushed her down a little until the head of the Emir’s cock was nestling between the lips of Caroline’s cunt.

“Now sit down and impale yourself on him,” said the old woman.

Caroline did this, putting her whole weight onto the Emir. Her cunt was already slick with the juices she always generated as soon as she was in a sexual situation, or even when just thinking about it. The cock slid straight in. This was Caroline’s first experience of vaginal intercourse with the Emir. His cock filled her more than full; it was almost as if its girth might split her. Yet after a few moments her cunt adjusted; no longer did he feel impossibly tight, merely snugly resting inside her.

“Fuck him,” said the old woman urgently. Caroline set to work, rocking back and forth on her hips, gripping the cock lodged inside her, raising her hips and coming down again, taking him in right up to the hilt, lifting till his cock was almost slipping out, then plunging back down again. It was hard work, but it gave her a good feeling. She found that if she leaned forward a little, the base of his cock would grind against her clit as she rocked to and fro, up and down. She didn’t dare look him in the eye, only glancing down now and again, but his eyes remained closed, so intent was he on the pleasure she was providing. The tremble in her clit was growing. She wondered how long she would have to fuck him before she could make herself come. But was that wise? Wouldn’t it be all too apparent if she had an orgasm? She always came so strongly, her whole body convulsing, almost like a man, and she wasn’t at all sure that such an evident sign of taking her own pleasure would be quite the thing to do. She was there to serve him, after all, not give herself a thrill.

She need not have worried. Her movement was bringing the Emir to his own climax soon enough. With a groan he thrust up inside her. She felt his cock twitch as his semen spurted into her, then he was quiet.

The old woman made a sign for her to get off. “Good,” she said. “Now leave.”

At least by now she was used to the summary dismissal, the complete lack of interest in her welfare. Soon she was back in the women’s quarters. Sophie asked her what the Emir had done, and Caroline briefly described the act she had performed.

“Good,” said Sophie, echoing the old woman’s comments. “But that position is not only strenuous; it can get a girl very frustrated if she isn’t allowed to go on long enough to come, no?”

Caroline saw little point in hiding the fact. “I think in another five minutes I would have come. Do you think he would have liked that?”

“I doubt it,” said Sophie. “I’ve never once come with him. I’ve always thought it safer not to.”

“How often have you been with him?” Caroline was curious to know a little more of Sophie’s history.

“Well, I’ve been here for nearly three years, and I suppose I’ve been called about once a month on average. So let’s say between thirty and forty times.”

“Have you ever enjoyed it?”

“At the beginning I was terrified. I was a virgin. He hurt me, and he kept fucking me every night for a week, so I had little time to recover. But eventually it was OK, and then I began to like it. I realise sex could be a very enjoyable thing. Perhaps, with the right man, the most enjoyable thing of all. I decided I would make the most of my situation, not feel sorry for myself, not expect him to love me, just take whatever sexual pleasure I could and find other satisfactions elsewhere.”

“But haven’t you ever thought about escape? Or getting ransomed?”

“I did at first. I thought of nothing else. But as time passed I began to realise that was unlikely to happen. My people have no money. And how does one escape from a place like this? Even if I got outside the palace, where would I go? What would I do? So I make the best of it. I’ve managed to make myself useful to the Emir in various ways, and that gives me a privileged position.”

“Useful by grooming his girls for him?”

“That, and other things,” said Sophie, closing down the conversation. “Anyway, do you want a bath and a massage?”

Caroline was tempted, but she suddenly felt dog-tired. “Can I have it tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Sophie smiled. “Sleep well.”

A week passed, during which Caroline got to know some of her companions better, spent a great deal of time grooming herself and other girls, listened to the music some of them made, and felt just a little bored. What had appeared in prospect a life of jeopardy, if not downright terror, full of dreadful images of rape and worse, now resolved itself into an existence that felt on the whole secure, but a trifle humdrum. Caroline asked Sophie what happened to girls when they fell out of favour. Were they tied up in sacks and dropped in the sea, as she had once heard? Sophie laughed and said most of them were married off to the Emir’s guards or servants, though if you had displeased him you might be sold to a brothel.

The time came when Caroline was again selected to entertain the Emir. In fact, that evening two girls had been picked. The other was a slim girl with lustrous long black hair and firm, generous breasts which, Caroline noticed, she was proud of, liking to go bare-breasted about the women’s quarters. The girl spoke no English and so they had not communicated. Caroline surmised she came from somewhere in southern Europe, Sicily perhaps; she had heard that region was invested with pirates and brigands of all descriptions. But when Sophie introduced her she said that the girl was from Greece, and her name was Danae.

Sophie and one of her helpers took care of them, bathing, massaging, perfuming and decorating their bodies until Sophie pronounced herself satisfied. The nipples of the other girl were large and, when erect (which they often seemed to be), were nearly the length of the first joint of Caroline’s thumb, and of a dark-brown colour, almost black. Sophie took extra care with Danae’s presentation. From her ears dangled elaborate earrings which sparkled with jewels. Her dark eyes were made even more dramatic with kohl, her lips bright red. In her navel was another jewel, an amethyst, and the ring on her labia supported yet another jewel on a short silver chain. There was an elaborate filigree of henna around her breasts, her navel and her groin. Caroline caught a glimpse of Danae’s cunt as she opened her legs. The lips were dark and full, like a fleshy mouth. Caroline had a sudden urge to kiss it.

Caroline’s ornamentation was more restrained, though her face was made up, and she had some very pretty jewelled sandals to wear. Neither of them wore any clothes. Caroline had an intimation that her role this evening would be a subsidiary one; but in what capacity exactly?

They were introduced into the Emir’s presence in the usual manner, crawling forward, led on a chain by the Grand Vizier, who then departed. As usual, the old woman sat by the Emir’s side, though for once there was no one else in the room. The air was heavy with the odour of frangipani; candles burned softly. The Emir’s piercing eyes sated themselves on the two girls’ bodies while the old woman sat next to him. As before, her hand slid inside the Emir’s clothing and soon emerged grasping his cock. It was big already. Caroline and the other girl stared at it.

“Kiss it and suck it, both of you,” said the old woman. Caroline and Danae bent their heads. Caroline took the cock in her hand, enjoying its hardness and warmth. She stretched out her tongue and licked the head. Danae did likewise. The two girls co-operated in their work, one licking the tip while the other kissed up and down the shaft, or licked the Emir’s balls (an action he greatly enjoyed, judging from the noises he was making). Caroline tried to take the cock into her mouth as far as she could manage while Danae nibbled softly at the soft skin on the shaft, then nuzzled the Emir’s balls. Caroline tried softly biting the head, lightly closing her teeth until she heard the Emir gasp, but not daring to go further. Pre-cum was oozing from the little hole at the tip and mingling with the salvia that dripped from her mouth. She could feel the wetness building between her legs too. She wondered how it felt, to be a man enjoying the attentions of two beautiful girls at once, knowing that any act which you desired they would unquestioningly perform. I think I’d get hard too, Caroline mused.

The old woman spoke again. “You,” she said, speaking to Danae in some language Caroline did not recognise, “will be fucked by the Emir. You will lie on your back, legs apart. His Highness will mount you and take his pleasure. And you,” she said to Caroline, reverting to English, “will do exactly as I tell you.”

The old woman pushed Danae back onto a pile of cushions and placed her legs as she wanted them, the knees bent, the thighs parted. Once again Caroline could see her cunt, exposed like an exotic orchid, the thick dark lips surrounding the coral-pink folds inside. For the first time in her life Caroline found herself actively desiring the sex of another woman, wanting to touch it, kiss it, penetrate it. And for the first time she envied a man his cock, that he might push it into such an inviting, luscious funnel.

The Emir mounted Danae. Caroline watched her face, turned to the side. It was impossible to read anything from her expression, neither desire nor repugnance. The Emir’s buttocks rose and fell as he thrust into her with measured strokes. It appeared he was intent on taking his time, enjoying the act with no compulsion to precipitate the orgasm that would end it.

The old woman pulled up the Emir’s clothing, exposing his bare bottom. “Kiss him there,” she ordered Caroline, “then lick.”

She saw the distaste on Caroline’s face. She raised her hand and struck Caroline across the cheek, a stinging blow. Caroline recoiled, but the old woman grabbed her hair and twisted it, bringing Caroline’s ear down to her mouth.

“Do what you are told or you will be flogged,” she said. She pushed Caroline’s face down to the Emir’s behind. Caroline kissed it tentatively.

“Lick,” the old woman hissed. Caroline put out her tongue and gingerly applied it to the Emir’s bottom. It wasn’t as bad as she feared. Evidently he had been well bathed and his skin smelled of perfumed oil. The old woman pushed her face down harder, burying it in the Emir’s buttocks. Caroline licked again, this time in a more positive manner. She didn’t like it, but she doubted it would be the worst thing she would ever have to do, and it was certainly better than a flogging, which, given what she knew of the Emir and his court, would be a cruel experience indeed. Even so, it was a sad come-down from her previous outings as the Emir’s bed-companion. Was this what she was now to be relegated to?

As she licked and kissed the Emir grew visibly and audibly more excited. Then the old woman whispered further instructions.

“Lick your finger well and insert it into His Highness’s bottom. Do it carefully.”

Caroline had never imagined a man could want such a thing. To be penetrated, even if only with a finger, by a woman? What perversity was this? But she did as instructed. As her finger slid up inside the Emir he grunted with pleasure. The old woman made a gesture to Caroline, an obscene gesture used the world over and unmistakeable in its meaning, so Caroline complied, pushing her finger in and out, imitating the action of fucking.

But this apparently was still not enough to satisfy the Emir’s whims. The old woman produced a wooden object, nine or ten inches long, two inches thick, smooth and highly polished and fashioned in the shape of an erect cock. She made it clear to Caroline what was to come next. Caroline saw that the object had already been oiled; it was slick but cool to the touch. Extracting her finger, she replaced it with the wooden phallus, inserting it slowly and carefully. It was bigger than any cock she had seen; would it be too much for the Emir? Caroline’s experience of anal play was confined to having her ass penetrated by a real cock; she assumed that this would be the limit of what such an orifice could take, but she had underestimated the flexibility of the body’s orifices, able to accommodate far larger objects than were commonly introduced there.

Once the phallus was lodged securely in the Emir’s ass, the old woman placed Caroline’s hand around his balls. She made a squeezing, twisting gesture, and, gingerly at first, Caroline gripped the balls, pulling slightly and twisting just enough to get an answering grunt of pleasure from their owner. Caroline surmised that the better she could perform her function the quicker he would come and her part would be over. This proved correct; it was not long before the Emir groaned, his thrusting into Dana rapidly increasing in speed and strength, until he came with a shout.

Soon she was dismissed from the Emir’s presence, though Danae remained behind. Back in the women’s quarters she found Sophie, who asked her how things had been. Briefly Caroline described the acts she had been obliged to perform. “It’s not so much the nature of the acts themselves,” she said. “It’s what it says about my role. It was demeaning, even degrading, the way I was made to perform. And that disgusting old woman lording it over me.”

Sophie looked at her sharply. “What did you expect? You think you are here to enjoy yourself? You think this is about you?”

Caroline hung her head. She knew Sophie was right.

“You are here to serve,” Sophie continued. “Your sole purpose is to give pleasure to the Emir. You have no other function, as far as your owner is concerned. Put aside any thought that sexual acts with His Highness are going to be pleasurable for you. It may be, from time to time, that you will derive a modicum of satisfaction from the acts you are required to perform. But if so, that will be merely a fortunate accident. Get this straight in your own mind, that any pleasure you get from sex must depend on the co-operation of your sisters in this place, many of whom will be more than happy to arouse you and are well versed in the needs of women. Or else you must pleasure yourself. But do not look for satisfaction elsewhere.”

Caroline was listening carefully. There was nothing with which she could argue. The logic was unchallengeable. And yet…. Though Caroline perceived that pleasures might be available to her which she had not yet chosen to pursue, the prospect ahead appeared to contain no possibility of the kind of sexual activity which until now had been her only pleasure, namely sex with a man.

“You mean,” she said, “that I must put aside all thought of ever getting fucked by a man again?”

“Well,” said Sophie, “from time to time you may get fucked by the Emir, if that is his whim. But you can’t rely on it. And it will be done in such a way as to maximise his pleasure, not yours.”

Caroline contemplated this for a moment. “I’ve had so much delight from men,” she said. “It will be hard to give it up.”

“Hard maybe, but you have no choice.”

Caroline’s face was such a picture of woe that Sophie put her arm round her neck to comfort her. Then, moved both by her plight and by her beauty, she drew Caroline towards her and kissed her full on the mouth. This was the first time since her capture that anyone had kissed her with such tender sensuality. Caroline found herself responding. Her lips parted and Sophie’s tongue sneaked in between them, searching tentatively, then boldly, into her mouth. Immediately Caroline felt a stirring between her legs, a slight prickly feeling. Sophie’s hand was round the back of her neck, stroking, her fingers sidling up behind her ear in a caress which Caroline always found irresistible. The prickly feeling between her legs turned to a quiver. Sophie put her other hand up to Caroline’s left breast and began to stroke the nipple, coaxing it to hardness. Her mouth still full of Sophie’s tongue, Caroline sighed with longing. She felt that she was in the best possible hands, that she was about to be introduced into a new world of pleasure by someone who was a skilled and experienced guide. True, she had received pleasure at Sophie’s hands before, but that had been somehow impersonal, a procedure designed to prepare her for her duties with the Emir. What was happening now was different. Sophie was making love to her.

She continued to kiss Caroline, her tongue searching deep while her fingers roved, lightly pinching one nipple, then the other, while the hand that had been around Caroline’s neck slid down her back, around her hips and over her belly. Caroline willed the hand to go lower, but Sophie had taken charge now. She would go at her own pace; if Caroline was impatient for more, she would just have to wait.

At last Sophie’s hand slipped between Caroline’s legs. Shameless now, she opened her thighs. She was sucking on Sophie’s tongue, wanting in some obscure way to be penetrated everywhere at once, with anything available. Sophie’s fingers pried into her groin, finding the lips of her cunt and rubbing them gently. All the while Sophie did not cease to pinch Caroline’s nipples, until they were painfully erect, swollen almost to bursting. Then Sophie’s index finger pushed in between the lips, finding the inner recesses of Caroline’s cunt. She made a sort of choking sound, her mouth still full of Sophie’s insistent tongue.

She knew that she was wet; not so much, she hoped, that Sophie would know just how much Caroline wanted her, how aroused she was. Surely it would be shameful to have her wantonness exposed? But Sophie found Caroline’s cunt oozing, sloppy with juices. She scooped them up onto the end of her finger and moved it up to Caroline’s clit, spreading the slippery wetness, lubricating.

Caroline had never felt anything so lovely as this finger sliding around her swollen clit, caressing, teasing, arousing. She wished that Sophie might finger her just a little harder, a little faster. She wanted to feel her clit not just coaxed to pleasure but roughly treated, hurt almost, she wanted it rubbed by a hand that pleased itself, that wasn’t too concerned with what the clit itself wanted, only with what the hand could take. But still Sophie went at her own pace.

Then she took her hand away. Caroline felt bereft. She wanted the hand back, touching in that same spot, so exactly the right place. Instead, Sophie pushed her gently down on a couch, on her back, and sank to her knees. With her hands she firmly pushed Caroline’s legs apart, then buried her face between her thighs. In a moment her tongue had sought out Caroline’s clit and begun to circle it, lapping it with the tip of the tongue, pushing against it, then lightly teasing it. If the touch of Sophie’s finger there had been magic, the feel of her tongue was paradise. Caroline lay back, stroking Sophie’s hair with her hand as she luxuriated in bliss.

Slowly Sophie’s tongue began to move more quickly and the strokes became firmer. Caroline caught hold of Sophie’s hair with her hand. She began to pull on it, not even aware of what she was doing. Only one thing filled her consciousness, the sensation of Sophie’s tongue circling her clit. And then the tide of pleasure washed over her, she was tossed in wave after wave of orgasmic contractions, her thighs gripping Sophie’s head so tight she might have choked her. Her body shook and she heard herself cry out. At last the spasms subsided. She lay back, staring at the ceiling.

“My god,” she whispered.

Sophie pulled herself up beside Caroline and cradled her in her arms.

“Thank you,” Caroline said. “That was the best feeling I’ve ever had.”

“I thought you might like it,” Sophie smiled.

“Can I, you know, do something for you?”

“Not just now,” Sophie said. “Another time I will show you the things I like.”

And so began a period of intense experimentation and pleasure. Sophie was as good as her word, instructing Caroline carefully in the exact moves which would maximise her pleasure. She liked it rough, Caroline discovered. She liked her nipples not just pinched, but bitten. She liked to be finger-fucked, have Caroline put two or three fingers in her cunt and pump away really hard.

One afternoon, as they lay together, flushed from pleasure, they talked of the particular delights of the female body.

“I love your softness and smoothness,” Sophie said. “And I find women’s bodies so graceful. They don’t have the strength of men’s, but I adore how they move, how they relax in repose. And I always feel that a woman knows things about my body’s responses which a man can’t.”

“Well, maybe,” Caroline answered, “though I think you could teach a man a great deal, if he had patience. However, there is one thing a man has that a woman lacks. The obvious thing.”

“Do you miss it?” Sophie asked.

“Yes, I do. There’s something about being penetrated, especially about being penetrated by someone who wants to possess you, invade you, get right inside you.”

“Wait here,” Sophie said.

She went in to a small alcove. Caroline heard her opening something, a drawer, or a chest. She came back holding in one hand a piece of polished wood, maybe eight inches long and a couple of inches thick, curved towards the tip. Caroline needed no explanation of what it was intended to represent. In Sophie’s other hand was a kind of leather belt, with a complicated series of straps. Caroline watched fascinated as Sophie bucked the belt around her naked waist, doing up straps around the top of her thighs, and then pushing the phallus (for so it was) into a hole at the front of the apparatus. It stuck out in front, proud, rampant, almost menacing. Caroline giggled nervously.

“On your knees,” said Sophie. There was a note of authority in her voice that Caroline could not challenge. She got down on the floor. Sophie moved closer until the tip of the phallus was almost touching Caroline’s mouth.

“Kiss it,” Sophie said.

Caroline bent her head and put her lips to the tip of the phallus. The wood was cool to the touch.

“Now suck,” Sophie ordered.

Caroline took the thing in her mouth, tentatively at first, then more boldly. She closed her eyes, imaging it was a cock, Henry’s perhaps, or the captain’s; even the Emir’s. Sophie caught hold of Caroline’s hair and pulled her head forward, so that the phallus was rammed deeper down Caroline’s throat.

“Suck, little slut,” Sophie hissed. “You know you want to.”

She did want to. She wanted to very much. She didn’t mind being called a slut; for after all, was she not one? Had she not given herself to several men since being snatched away from her husband? Not all those men had forced her. And now she was allowing herself to be taken by a woman, in an act as perverse as any she had yet been party to. Caroline took the phallus as far to the back of her throat as she could. She wanted to show Sophie that she was a good girl as well as a slut, a girl who could be relied upon to please, a girl who would not be outraged by any sexual demands, no matter how “unnatural”.

“Kneel on the divan,” Sophie said, “with your cute little ass towards me.”

Caroline hastened to take up her position. She put her head down, resting it on her hands, while she arched her back and opened her thighs. I’m shameless, she thought. And I don’t care. She felt Sophie place the phallus carefully between the lips of her cunt, then it was slowly pushed into her. For a moment it felt as if it would be too big. Surely she could not take such a thing. But she made herself relax and open up, and the great thick wooden thing slid nicely into position. God, it felt good. Not as good as a real cock, but what choice did she have right now? The Emir’s cock was the only one that would be available to her within the foreseeable future, and how often would that be? Less and less so, she feared. New girls arrived at regular intervals, pretty girls, girls who were mostly younger than herself. It was inevitable, unless she displayed some special feature pleasing to him, that the Emir would increasingly prefer these other girls. So a wooden cock it would have to be. Caroline resolved to make the most of it.

Sophie began to thrust, not roughly but firmly, with regular strokes, going in deep. Caroline surrendered to the insistent rhythm, Sophie’s hips slapping against her bottom. She didn’t think she was going to come like this, but she didn’t need to. She realised that for her, fucking and coming were not synonymous. She could have one without the other, and there was pleasure in both. What pleasure was there for Sophie, she wondered? Did she get satisfaction from fucking another girl? Caroline couldn’t see that there was any physical stimulation to speak of, but she knew enough about women to know that it was by no means only a matter of getting the right pressure on your clit. It was what went on in the head that gave the true delight.

But if neither she nor Sophie was going to come from this kind of fucking, why would it ever stop? Caroline had a sudden absurd idea of it going on and on into eternity, her cunt always full, Sophie always thrusting. And then Sophie pulled out. Caroline felt disappointed; she would willing have had some more, but clearly Sophie had other ideas, sitting down on the divan, her legs wide apart, the phallus sticking up vertically.

“Now it’s time for you to go to work, little slut,” she said with a smile. “Make me come. I know you know how.”

Caroline set to work willingly. The leather straps left Sophie’s cunt free, and Caroline pressed her lips to it, marvelling at how wet it was. Clearly the excitement had not been only on one side. She licked up and down the slick, slippery lips, then dipped her tongue inside, ladling up enough of the juices to spread them generously over Sophie’s clit. Caroline took it between her lips and sucked hard. She was gratified to hear Sophie gasp. She sucked harder still, then held the swollen little clit in her mouth and flicked it from side to side with the tip of her tongue. Sophie fell back onto the divan, spread her legs even wider, a figure of complete abandon. As she continued to work the eager little clit, Caroline reached up and took Sophie’s nipples between her fingers and thumbs, squeezing a little, then harder as she heard Sophie’s grunts of pleasure. Moving one hand down from Sophie’s breast, Caroline slid two fingers into her cunt, all the while continuing to graze on Sophie’s clit, which was now the size of a large pea and nearly as hard. Concentrating hard now, she resolved that this was how Sophie would come, one nipple pinched, her clit rubbed almost raw by Caroline’s insistent tongue, and finger-fucked as well. She wondered for a moment whether this might not be too much for the girl; would there be so many different kinds of stimulation that she would be unable to concentrate on any of them? She need not have worried. Sophie moved quickly to the brink of her orgasm. For a moment Caroline toyed with the idea of teasing her, making her wait, reversing the dynamic so that it would now be she who held the whip hand, she who dictated what kind of pleasure and when. But Sophie had been so nice to her, so thoughtful and generous, that it would be mischievous (if fun) to withhold her satisfaction. So, she scarcely delayed her movements at all, ushering Sophie over the edge into a long and noisy orgasm.

In the weeks subsequent to this encounter. Caroline found herself delving deeper into the pleasures of sex with women. Things progressed rapidly with Sophie, to the point where they would have a sexual encounter four or five times a week. Sophie appeared to have no feelings of jealousy, leaving Caroline to explore the possibilities of other partners. Not many of the girls spoke English, but that proved to be very little of an impediment where love-making was concerned. Caroline was able to indulge the attraction she had felt for Danae, who proved extremely amenable to her advances. She allowed Caroline to kiss and fondle her beautiful cunt to her heart’s content; she was passionate about oral sex of all kinds, both giving and receiving. From time to time Caroline also experimented with other girls, but she found herself constantly returning to Sophie. Not only was she a pretty girl who spoke English; Caroline felt there was a meeting of minds too. Caroline tried to be as open about things as Sophie was and not mind if she enjoyed other partners, though a twinge of jealousy would occasionally bother her. Sophie was much in demand, and Caroline had to force herself to remember that she could have no exclusive claims upon her favours. When Sophie was busy with another girl, Caroline forced herself not to mope, instead seeking out a girl for her own pleasure. Sometimes it was Danae, but she also discovered that Rose was also willing, though where Sophie was dominant, even aggressive, Rose was soft and gentle, if no less willing.