Chapter Six

In the event she slept well. The next morning Sophie told her to report again at four o’clock. When she did so, Sophie took her into the bathing area and told her to strip. She produced some iron manacles and pinned Caroline’s wrists behind her back, then with a small steel chain lifted her wrists halfway up her back and attached them to the back of Caroline’s steel collar. It wasn’t painful, at least not yet, but it was a very effective restraint. Sophie then ushered her into a small room Caroline had not previously entered. There were no windows, but several scented candles burned, providing a soft, low light. Caroline was surprised to see that there were two girls there, both naked, standing up against the wall, with blindfolds over their eyes. Sophie went and fetched a small box. From it she produced a thin silver chain and attached one end to the little ring pierced at the top of Caroline’s cunt. Caroline watched this nervously; she felt vulnerable at once if anyone touched the ring, afraid that the delicate fold of skin in which it was embedded might tear.

Holding the other end of the chain, Sophie led Caroline to the wall and pushed her back against it. Just above head height was an iron ring, to which Sophie attached the end of the silver chain, pulling it tight so that it ran between Caroline’s legs, bisecting the lips of her cunt, then between the cheeks of her bottom and up her back. Sophie adjusted the chain so that the tension was enough to put more pressure on Caroline than she felt comfortable with, given her sensitivity to the delicate piercing. If she wished to relieve the pressure, she had to stand very slightly up on tiptoe. As soon as she stood back on her heels, the chain tightened. How long must she stand like this?

From the box Sophie produced another item. Joined by a small steel chain were two metal clamps. Sophie took one of Caroline’s nipples between her finger and thumb and pinched it hard, then twisted it and pinched harder still. Caroline gasped. She looked down and saw that the nipple had become swollen and erect. Sophie carefully placed a clamp over it and let go. A sharp pain stabbed into Caroline’s tender flesh and she cried out.

“Shh,” said Sophie sternly. “This is nothing, nothing at all. Not yet.”

She put the second clamp on Caroline’s other nipple, then gave a little tug on the connecting chain, to check the clamps were firmly in place. Caroline groaned. Glancing sideways, she saw that the other two girls were similarly clamped on their nipples. And there was something else about them she had not noticed in the dim light. Sophie reached again into the box and brought out a wooden clothes peg, of the kind used for pinning up drying clothes.

“Stick out your tongue,” Sophie said.

Caroline hesitated and gave a little whimper. No, please, this would hurt a lot, surely. She wasn’t ready for this. Sophie slapped her face hard, then slapped it again, a stinging blow to the cheek.

“If you don’t do what you’re told, at once, I can promise you will be very sorry. Very sorry indeed. Now stick out your tongue.”

Trembling, Caroline did as she was told. Sophie pinched the peg open and let it grip Caroline’s tongue. It hurt; not quite as much as she had feared, but surely the pain could only increase the longer time went on. Finally Sophie took a black leather blindfold from the box and fixed it securely round Caroline’s eyes, buckling it up at the back of her head.

“Now,” she whispered in her ear, “just stand there and think about submission and what sort of discipline is suitable for little sluts like you.”

Caroline heard Sophie move away towards the other girls. One of them cried out. What was Sophie doing to her? Then were several gasps, then a squeal. Was this from the same girl or the other one? Caroline imagined Sophie pulling on their nipple clamps, or on the chain that tied them to the wall. She was completely helpless now, at the mercy of whoever was minded to hurt her. Then she heard the door open and close. There was silence. After a while the clamps on her nipples began to pinch more and more. The peg on her tongue was making her drool. And the tension on the chain between her legs had produced an ache in her clit; despite the pain she could feel wetness dripping from her cunt, as if she had been aroused, not tormented.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed before she heard the door open again and someone stepping up to her. She tried to say something, but it was impossible to formulate the words with the peg on her tongue. She felt someone close by and then a voice spoke in her ear, not Sophie but a man’s voice.

“Are you being a good girl?” the voice enquired. Caroline nodded and tried again to speak.

“No need to say anything,” the man said. His face was against her cheek. She could feel the bristles on his chin, and smell him, a male scent which quickened the throbbing in her cunt.

“I’m going to take the peg off,” he said. “But you are not to speak. Not a word. Don’t make me hurt you more than is necessary, but I will do something very unpleasant if I don’t get instant compliance. Do you understand?”

Caroline nodded. Who was this man? Did Sophie know he was here? And what was he going to do? The last of these questions was soon answered. He removed the peg from Caroline’s tongue, which she was grateful for. But then he grabbed her hair, twisted it very hard, and slapped her across the cheek. Caroline cried out. The man slapped her again, even harder. She whimpered. She felt afraid. She had no idea what was going on, if this was part of a plan, or even whether this man was some sort of crazy person who had broken into the room. She screamed, hoping to attract attention.

“Scream all you like,” the man said. “This room is sound-proofed. No one will hear you, except the other poor girls. Do you want to frighten them?”

He pulled the chain that connected the nipple clamps. The pain was agonising and she cried out again. The man laughed.

“Such fun,” he said, “tormenting a pretty girl like you. Of course I know you like it really, a little slut like you.”

So saying, he twisted her hair again, then put his free hand between her legs. His fingers curled around her labia and pinched them hard. Caroline moaned. The man dug his fingernails into her cunt. God, this was unbearable! Then he thrust first one finger, then two, then three into her cunt. He began to fuck her with his fingers, hard and fast, roughly, seeming not to care how much he hurt her. She twisted and turned this way and that, trying to get away from him, but he was very strong. He took his fingers out of her and without warning smacked her hard on the cunt. Caroline squealed. It wasn’t the pain so much, just outrage at such an invasive and aggressive act. Instinctively she closed her thighs tightly together.

“I’m going to do that again,” said the man. “Several times. Really quite hard. And you are going to keep your legs open for me. If you dare to close them, even a little bit, you will regret it. Believe me, I am capable of cruelty.”

Caroline had no doubt of it. She was scared now. She was utterly defenceless and alone. Would no one come to help her? She forced herself to keep her legs open and the man hit her again, his hand slapping hard full along the centre of her cunt. Then he did it again, and again and again. Caroline sobbed and begged him to stop, but it made no difference. Then at last, instead of another slap, he put his hand between her legs and forced his fingers up inside her. This time he was gentler, feeling deep inside her, moving her fingers around. She knew that she was wet, dripping wet despite her fear. Or maybe because of it. Could it be that she liked this? Surely fear was her dominant emotion, and yet there was no denying the evidence that oozed between the throbbing lips of her cunt.

“Such a slut,” the man said. “You think it’s more than you can bear, but as soon as I stop your cunt is throbbing, aching for more. Admit it.”

“No,” Caroline pleaded. “Please, no.”

The slapping began again. This time he varied it by slapping her breasts too, first one then the other. It hurt like hell, because the force of the blow drove the evil little clamps even more tightly into her flesh. Then he grabbed the chain connecting the clamps and pulled viciously, so much so that the clamps came right off. Caroline screamed again. Was there no limit to this man’s cruelty? She had a powerful urge to caress her poor tortured nipples, soothe them and comfort them, but bound as she was with her hands behind her back, she was helpless. Instead of offering comfort, the man seized her nipples in his powerful fingers and squeezed them hard. Caroline whimpered.

He let go and unhooked the chain that bound her clit ring to the wall. He grabbed her hair once more, forcing her down onto her knees. She nearly fell, because having her hands pinioned behind her back made her unstable. But the tightness of the man’s grip on her hair held her upright.

“Open your mouth,” he snapped.

Mindful of his threats if she did not obey instantly, Caroline opened wide. She knew what was coming. The man thrust his cock deep into her mouth. It felt huge, surely bigger than the Emir’s? Holding her head in a secure grip, the man pushed his cock right to the back of her throat and held it there. Caroline struggled, desperate for a breath of air, but the man would not let her go. At last he withdrew his cock far enough for her to gulp in air, only to force it in again, blocking her throat entirely. Caroline was choking, gasping, thrashing about in a desperate attempt to breathe. The man held her tight, allowing her just a little air each time, only to ram his cock back in once more. Caroline was becoming exhausted with the effort, but the man was unrelenting, and his strength was such that her resistance was futile.

“Please,” she managed to blurt out, “you’re going to kill me.”

His response was to slap her face hard, several times, then ram his cock into her mouth again. While he held it there he used his free hand to smack her breasts, stinging the poor smarting nipples. At last he pulled her to her feet. She hoped that her ordeal might be over. Instead, the man pulled her across to the wall and slammed her against it, standing behind her, his mouth against her ear.

“I haven’t finished with you yet, slut, not by a long way,” he hissed. He pulled her head back by her hair, then forced his hand into her mouth. His other hand went to her bottom, his fingers digging viciously into the tender flesh.

“I’m going to break you,” he said. “I’m going to force all the resistance out of you.”

Caroline might have protested that he had surely already done so, but she could articulate nothing with his hand forced into her mouth. He slapped her bottom, hard. Then she felt him undo the manacles that held her wrists. At last she was free of her bonds, she thought. But the man held her wrists up above her head and with a piece of rope bound them to the iron ring set in the wall. It was less uncomfortable that having her hands restrained behind her back, but she was no less vulnerable. She heard a rustle of something and a soft clink. She knew that sound. He was taking off his belt.

His hand on her bottom had been heavy, but the belt was far more painful. He lashed her without mercy, the belt thudding and slapping against her buttocks over and over again. She cried, she screamed, but it made no difference. Her behind was stinging, smarting, on fire. Then, for variety, he turned her round so that her back was to the wall. He laid the belt right across her nipples, her sore, tender nipples. Then slowly, each blow a lash that seemed to cut right into her, he worked his way down her front, onto her belly, across her pubic mound, then on down over the front of her thighs, at which point he stopped.

“Now,” he said, breathing hard, “we’re going to see if you have learned anything about obedience. Open your legs.”

Caroline pleaded, but in vain. Could she do it? Could she willingly lay herself open to such cruelty?

“I see you have learned very little,” the man said. His voice was calm now, but menacing. “I shall have to adopt more persuasive methods.”

For a moment she didn’t know what he intended. But then she felt her ankles being tied, and pulled apart. Her legs were held open, utterly defenceless. Her heart was full of dread.

“I promise you that when I come to untie your legs, you will hold them open on my instruction, no matter what is done to you. And if you think me cruel, you have only yourself to blame.”

Caroline moaned. Mingled sweat and saliva ran down her chin. She knew that despite what had been done to her (or was it because of what had been done?) her cunt ran with the juices of arousal. She thought that could only increase the pain of what she was about to suffer. At the first blow, a vicious uppercut that landed the full force of the belt along the length of her cunt, cutting into the delicate lips, she screamed, her loudest scream yet. Surely someone must hear, someone who would take pity on her? But her hopes were in vain. The man continued to whip her cunt, sometimes from below, so that the belt drove into the gap between her lips, once or twice finding the tip of her clit, and sometimes laying the belt crosswise. In one way this was not so bad, because the belt could not reach her cunt completely. But when he wielded it in this way he could hit harder, so hard that she dreaded he might do permanent damage to the tender flesh.

The beating went on and on, punctuated only by occasional grunts from the man as he lashed her especially hard, and a series of insults. “Slut, hussy, whore, tramp, trollop, bitch, fuck-toy” were some of the things he called her. Yes, she thought, I am all of these things, but I had no idea that accepting this would lead me to such cruelty. Her whole body was on fire, stinging, smarting, throbbing, aching. What did he mean when he said he was going to break her? Was she not broken already?

At last he untied both her wrists and her ankles. She leaned against the wall, sobbing, panting, her face tear-stained.

“Now we’ll try again,” he said, his voice harsh, merciless. “Open your legs wide.”

She braced herself against the wall, her legs bent. She had no more will to resist, though every nerve in her body cried out against a further assault. He held the belt down, pointing at the floor, then suddenly flicked it up, the end snaking between her legs, curling around her poor, wounded little cunt. She cried out, a kind of inhuman animal wail, but she forced herself to keep her legs open. Now at last she had learned her lesson.

Please, no more, she thought. The man came closer. “Good girl,” he said. He put his arms around her and slid his hand between her legs. Slowly, gently, he began to caress her there, rubbing the bruised lips of her cunt gently, then coaxing her sore little clit to respond. She could hardly believe that after her ordeal she could summon the smallest twitch of desire, but despite all she had suffered her body had a mind of its own. Her clit began to swell. His fingers were cunning and well-versed in such acts; he knew instinctively how to play her. Her clit began to hum, the blood in her groin began to sing. Soon, indecently soon, her loins began to tremble and at last, without knowing what she was doing, she clenched her thighs around his hand as the orgasm overwhelmed her. Too late, she wondered if that was cause for further punishment.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean to close my legs. It just happened.”

“It had better not happen again,” the man said. Once more he gripped her by the hair, twisting it so that she sank to her knees. He held her still for a moment, and she wondered if once more she would be forced to suck his cock. And then suddenly she felt a stream of warm, salty liquid spurt onto her face, playing over her cheeks and mouth, running down her chin onto her breasts. Never had Caroline imagined such a thing, that a man could piss on her. Surely this was the ultimate humiliation. What sort of a man could do this? And what must he think of her to treat her this way? Am I nothing to him, nothing at all? And yet, in a corner of her mind, she clung to the idea that, if she were truly nothing, he would not bother with degrading her in this way. Instead, he actively wanted her to confront the full extent to which she was subject to him, to every dirty whim and cruel impulse that he had. Was that nothing?

She knelt there while the man’s pee dripped off her face. Truly now I am a filthy whore, she thought. Literally. But even now he was not finished with her. She could hear a slight sound, a sound she had heard before, the friction of a hand on a cock. She waited, her face lifted in expectation. When it came it would be further humiliation. Or would it? Could it not be that it was a kind of tribute? He had a desire that needed to be assuaged, he wanted to set his mark upon her, make her his. And so when, quite soon, she felt the hot semen spurt from his cock onto her face, splattering her brow, her hair, her cheeks and nose and lips, she welcomed it. It was an offering she had surely done much to deserve. She had accepted to be ground down, beaten, tortured, outraged, violated. And now she was the object of his lust, poured out in a hot thick stream.

He let go of her. She continued kneeling on the floor. She heard the rustle of his clothing as he did himself up, heard his footsteps as he went to the door, heard it open and close, and then there was silence. Caroline wiped her face with her hand, smearing the semen, then, on an impulse she put her fingers to her mouth and licked them. So this is what he tastes like, she thought.

She curled up into a ball. She felt drained, but fulfilled. She had been taken to the edge, had stared over the brink and had not flinched. She was surely now a true submissive. Some time later Sophie came for her, raising her to her feet, embracing her, then removing her blindfold. She saw that the room was empty. At some point the other girls had been removed. How much had they seen? Sophie led her to the bathhouse. As Caroline relaxed in the water, enjoying the heat as it seeped into her aching body, questions came into her mind.

“Who was that man?” she asked Sophie.

“A member of the palace guard who is permitted by the Emir to assist me in the special training.”

“Yes, but what is his name?”

“Never mind. Do not ask. He is nothing to you, just an anonymous male body.”

“Is he handsome?” Caroline persisted. “It felt like he had a really nice cock. Bigger than the Emir’s, I think.”

“That is a dangerous thought to have,” said Sophie sternly. “Put it from you.”

“Have you had sex with him?” Caroline felt a little mischievous now. She was gratified to see Sophie blush.

“None of your business,” the other girl said.

That’s a yes, then, Caroline thought to herself. “Is he told exactly what to do, or is he just allowed to please himself with me?”

“His performance is strictly controlled. He may not fuck you, either in ass or cunt. But he may use your mouth.”

“As indeed he did,” said Caroline with a smile. Now that the ordeal was over, she could allow herself to reminisce. As she did she felt a stirring in the pit of her belly. Truly I am a slut, she thought.

“Will I encounter him again?”

“Yes, there is more training to undergo.”

“And is he the only man who assists you in this way?”

“Yes. The Emir wants it strictly limited.”

“And so this man has a privileged position?”

“No more questions,” Sophie said sternly. “Get out of the bath.”

Sophie refused to discuss any more. But the next afternoon she took Caroline into a secluded corner of the women’s quarters. They lay down together on a divan.

“You will tell me exactly what was done to you yesterday,” Sophie said. “Leave nothing out: what was done, and how you felt about it.”

As Caroline began to speak, Sophie put her hand between the other girl’s legs and began to caress her. At first the caresses were on top of the thin silken trousers that Carline wore, but as she continued her narrative, Sophie slipped a hand inside and the caresses grew more insistent.

“Say more on how you felt about the experience, and how you feel now,” Sophie whispered.

Increasingly Caroline was finding it hard to concentrate with Sophie fingers busy around, and sometimes inside, her cunt. The fingers pried, pinched, stroked, teased, penetrated. Caroline knew how wet she was getting.

“I think,” she said carefully, “that at the time I was overwhelmed by the seeming ferocity of the assault. I felt I was in the hands of someone who, even if they might not wish me actual harm, had no regard for my welfare, and would use me in any way they pleased, no matter how roughly. And I was afraid of that. I had never been there before, where things were completely out of my control. In some way I knew that this was good for me, that it was what I needed, but this intellectual understanding was deafened by the clamour of the things that were being done to me, the blows, the violent penetration, the insults and other humiliations. It was at times quite terrifying; I even wondered if I might not survive. Afterwards I realised how wet I had become, so that there was a sense that my body, if not my mind, was responding in a favourable way. But at the time that was not the primary sensation. Now, when I recollect in tranquillity, I find my impressions of the experience are wholly favourable. It was not want I wanted, but it was exactly what I needed. And now that I am no longer in pain, I remember the pain with pleasure. Indeed, almost as soon as it had stopped I felt pleasure. First, because despite my resistance, I had come through, I had been able to submit, and I was proud of that. And immediately the pain stopped, I wanted more. That’s why he was able to make me come so quickly; my body was aching for further punishment.”

“And now?”

“I would do it again, willingly. Though of course once it started I would again feel trepidation, even fear.”

“It’s evident from the state of your slutty little cunt now that the whole experience was profoundly arousing for you.”

“I think,” Caroline replied smiling, “that the state of my cunt is a testament to the insistent and lascivious probing of your expert fingers.”

Sophie laughed. “One can only work with the material one has. However expert, I could not get blood from a stone. Whereas, from you I can press the most succulent juices.”

So saying, she went down on Caroline, her tongue lapping at Caroline’s cunt and circling her clit, which was, in truth, rather bruised from its treatment the day before; but the bruises only made the kisses sweeter. Caroline clutched at Sophie, her back arched, her legs splayed, her cunt thrust upwards towards the source of such delicious stimulation.

“I think I’m going to come,” she whispered.

“No you aren’t,” said Sophie, lifting her head. “You came yesterday with the man. That’s your ration for a while.”

Caroline groaned with disappointment. “Oh please, that’s so cruel.”

“Hush,” said Sophie. “No more of that. I’ve got to get you ready for the Emir this evening.”

“The Emir?” said Caroline in surprise. “So soon, after yesterday?”

“It’s unusual. Normally he does not like girls who show signs of recent use. You must be an exception.”

To what, Caroline wondered? She allowed herself to be bathed and prettified for the Emir’s pleasure, then she was led into his presence by the Vizier. The old woman was once more ensconced by his side. On the other side of him was a youth, a pretty, almost girlish one. Did the Emir like boys too? It seemed only too likely. Caroline knelt before the Emir, awaiting instructions.

The old woman said something to the boy, who stood up and removed his clothes. Caroline regarded him with interest. His body was slim, and hairless: his cock and balls had been shaved. She could smell his odour, a mixture of sweat and sandalwood. His cock was on the generous side, and as she watched it began to grow. The Emir watched it too, then bent forward and took it in his mouth. As he sucked the boy, his hands went round behind and slowly stroked the boy’s buttocks.

So, thought Caroline, the Emir likes boys. But where did she fit into this scenario? She did not have long to wait.

“You suck him too,” the old woman said to her.

Caroline got down on her knees and put her lips to the boy’s cock. The Emir took his mouth away for a moment and watched her work, then after a while he joined her and the two of them licked and sucked. Caroline let her hands roam over the boy’s bottom, as the Emir’s had done. What came next, she wondered?

The Emir lay back on the bed. The old woman undid his clothing and pulled out his cock, fully erect.

“You both suck,” she said to Caroline and the boy.

Obediently, the two of them went to work. The boy had a good technique, varying his touch between taking the cock into his mouth, and licking up and down the shaft and around the head. Clearly he had done this sort of thing many times before. After a while the Emir rolled over onto his front. Without being told what to do, the boy began to stroke the Emir’s bottom, then kissed between his cheeks. Caroline watched his pink tongue lick around the Emir’s asshole. Then the old woman pointed to the asshole of the boy as he knelt on the bed and made an unmistakeable gesture. Caroline, somewhat reluctantly, bent and put her mouth to him. He tasted a little earthy, but clean. Caroline rimmed him thoroughly, round and round. After a while the old woman gave her a jar of cream. Caroline knew what was intended, and she applied the cream to the boy’s bottom, pushing it right up inside him till he was thoroughly lubricated. Would the Emir fuck him now? If so, what would be her role? Simply a cheerleader?

Caroline glanced to one side and saw the old woman holding something. It was a wooden dildo attached to leather straps. She had no need of instruction about what to do with it, after her experiences with Sophie. Quickly she buckled up the straps between her legs and around her waist, holding the thing securely in place. But who was she to sodomise, the Emir or the boy? The answer soon became evident when the Emir got up onto all fours and the boy knelt behind him. Carefully (doubtless for fear of the consequences should he cause the Emir discomfort), he introduced his cock, still slippery from being sucked, to the Emir’s ass. Once it was securely lodged there, the old woman gestured to Caroline to take the boy anally, which she did with a certain perverse pleasure, a pleasure which surprised her. Perhaps there were still things she did not know about her own sexuality.

Caroline fucked the boy and the boy fucked the Emir. The old woman knelt beside the Emir and put her hand under him, taking hold of his cock and stroking slowly. The Emir made various sounds of pleasure. Caroline and the boy were silent. They both knew that their own pleasure was irrelevant; if they felt any it was best not to advertise the fact.

Caroline thought that with all this stimulation the Emir must come quickly. But his stamina was greater than she supposed. He muttered something to the boy, who slowly pulled his cock out. Caroline, perceiving some new combination of the three bodies would now ensure, likewise pulled her strap-on cock from the boy. The Emir pulled the boy round so that he was now the one kneeling in front. Without ceremony the Emir drove his cock into the boy’s ass. The boy grunted, if not in pain then something close to it, but the Emir took no notice, fucking the boy vigorously.

The old woman made another gesture. It was pretty much what Caroline expected: she was now to fuck the Emir in the ass while he did the boy. When he felt the hard wooden dildo against his anus the Emir paused, allowing Caroline to work the dildo carefully up inside him. Then the Emir began once again vigorously, even roughly, to fuck the boy. Caroline concentrated on keeping the dildo inside him, no easy task given how hard he was thrusting.

This dual fucking continued for several minutes, all the time Caroline thinking that soon the Emir would ejaculate inside the boy. But there were to be further twists in the sexual combination. The Emir said something to the old woman, who told Caroline she must pull out. She did so, and the Emir pulled his cock from the boy’s ass. He took hold of Caroline and put her behind the boy, then pointed first at the boy’s ass, then at Caroline’s strap-on. Once more she began to fuck the boy, with a good deal more consideration that the Emir had shown. As she did so, she felt the Emir come up behind her. He pushed her forward a little, so that her ass thrust upwards. Parting the straps of the dildo, that were pulled tight, the Emir forced his cock into her cunt. By now she was dripping wet, and he went in easily.

Again they all three fucked or were fucked. Caroline enjoyed this the most, since she both liked being in the boy, and having a nice big cock inside her too. But once again the fucking was interrupted by the Emir’s desire to try yet another combination. Pulling his cock from her, he lay on the bed and gestured to her to sit astride him. Putting her in just the right position, and lifting her up slightly, he introduced his cock into her cunt once more. Caroline sank down onto him, letting her weight impale her on the cock. Then the Emir drew her forward, so that her head was alongside his, her cunt still penetrated but her ass now revealed. The Emir uttered a word; she felt the boy come up behind her and put his cock to her ass. This is going to be too much, Caroline thought. I can’t take two cocks like this, not two big hard cocks at once. But it seemed that she could. By now the boy’s cock had been well lubricated, and clearly he was adept at fucking either sex, in any orifice, for he slowly pushed his cock into her ass in a gentle but firm movement, until she was fully penetrated.

She felt full, too full, yet she would not have wished for less. The Emir fucked her vigorously, the boy more carefully, skilfully keeping his cock inside her. She wondered if this was to be the last variation. She rather hoped so. It was a new experience, and one that she was enjoying, to be mastered by two men at once. Suddenly the Emir gave a groan. She felt his cock twitch and leap inside her, as the semen spurted out of him, his cock convulsing over and over again. Despite this movement, the boy managed to keep his cock inside her; when the Emir’s, now flaccid, slipped out, the boy’s was still hard. Now he began to fuck her in earnest, intent of his own pleasure at last. It did not take long. He sighed with delight as his cock pumped the hot, thick semen up into her ass. Then at last he too slipped out.

Caroline lay for a moment, luxuriating in the sensation of having been well fucked. How did this experience compare with her ordeal yesterday? This evening had been more satisfying physically, perhaps. It was good to have a cock in her, and two was even better. She hadn’t come, but for Caroline this was by no means the definition of a good sexual experience. Not coming she could always deal with later (forgetting for a moment that she was denied orgasms). On the other hand, yesterday had been the more exciting encounter, nearer the edge, more powerfully arousing. It had got deeper into her mind. She had learned things about herself, what she was capable of. What she had done with the Emir this evening took little out of her emotionally. Now that she had got used to her situation, accepted her status, it was even fun to be used for the Emir’s pleasure, but she invested almost nothing of herself in it. But the day before she had felt in the grip of a powerful force, one that occupied both her mind and body to the fullest extent. She wanted to experience that again, see if she could go further. It answered a need in her, she knew.

Back in the women’s quarters Caroline bathed and found a place to sleep. Once under the covers she put a hand between her legs. Then suddenly she remembered Sophie’s injunction. She thought about it for a minute. She was on her honour not to come. But the fucking she had received from the Emir and the boy had left her clit swollen and needy. She needed to sleep, but that would be difficult in such an aroused state. Her mind was at rest, but her body was sending her messages. Would she be letting Sophie down if she gave herself relief? Would she be letting herself down? So be it. I’ll do it and then confess tomorrow. That at least will be honest. And if I’m punished, I will accept that with a good grace and recognise that I deserve it.

Her forefinger and middle finger were on either side of her clit, her chosen position. She pressed her fingers together, trapping her clit, squeezing it, then dipped her fingers into her cunt to get some lubrication and began to gently rub against one side of her clit (rubbing right over the top was too much for her; she had discovered a long time ago that sometimes you can have too much pleasure). Very gradually she increased the speed and pressure of the rubbing, then throttled back, teasing herself. When she was sure she would come, no doubt about it, she liked to delay things a little so as to prolong the enjoyment. But at last she could hold back no longer and she brought herself to the brink and over. It was a big one, and she worried for a moment that she might have cried out, but when she turned her head she could see no one close who seemed to be listening.