When Maryam had recovered from the six strokes of the riding crop and her breathing had
returned to normal, broken only by a few sobs, the eunuchs did not release her from the
whipping bench. The Head Eunuch carefully explained to her that she had let him down and
made his training look inadequate. For that offence he would punish her, and there was no
time like the present.
Turning to the small rack of whips he selected one the likes of which Maryam had
never seen before. It looked quite incapable of inflicting much pain. A flexible little
leather plaited strip, very supple, like string. It was no more than eighteen inches long
and did not look at all threatening.
The Head Eunuch moved behind her and there was a very high pitched whistling
followed by a quiet cracking noise as of a twig breaking. Then the pain hit her mind;
the thigh on which the whip had landed felt as though the leg had been amputated just
above the knee.
Wheeee - Crack!
The other leg joined the first in oblivion and the total agony at the bottom of both
thighs caused Maryam to pass out yet again. Cold water poured over her shoulders and head
soon brought her round and she was unshackled. Marched into the harem proper, she was
told to stand in the corner of the room with her back to everyone else and to remain there
until told to move. As the cold water dripped from her hair on to her six-striped
buttocks it stung whenever a drop landed on one of General Mustapha’s markings. The pain
in her legs, behind the knees subsided slowly and one of Maryam’s first thoughts was that
she would never underestimate a whip again, nor did she ever again want to taste the
kisses of the “little worm”. The Head Eunuch came over to her after half-an-hour or so
and asked how she felt.
“Master,” was her wise reply.
“And you will never, ever bite a Master’s manhood again?” he asked.
“No, Master,” she replied, biting back the inclination to retort that she hadn’t
bitten it, and certainly not on purpose.
“Well, I don’t suppose you will, for if you do I shall work along the back of your
legs from the ankle to the buttock crease, then over the buttocks, and slowly up the back
to the neck with my little friend. He has the advantage of giving maximum pain for
minimum damage,” was the Head Eunuch’s warning, “He would take many many strokes to flog
you to death if you ever did that again. We would wait for you to regain consciousness
each stroke, so it might take two days to finish you. In the end he would crush the back
of your head, but if you were lucky he might break your neck.”
Maryam could not imagine what the pain of such a treatment would feel like; she
only knew it was to be avoided at all costs.
“You are to go to the Master again tonight. I hope you will behave better this
time. Now, into the bathroom with you and use the douche.”
“What’s a douche?”
“It pumps water into your vagina to wash out the General’s semen.”
“Why does it matter if the General’s sticky is left in me?”
“Well it doesn’t with the General, but it will with some of the men who use you.”
“Why? It seems an awful lot of trouble for nothing.”
The Head Eunuch roared with laughter and said, “Very funny. Now pay attention. I
don’t know why they didn’t teach you this in the Golden Palace harem.”
“No, seriously, why bother with all this nonsense? There isn’t that much sticky
left in me when the General uses me there and surely it will come out when I next go to
the toilet or have a bath?”
“By then it may be too late.”
“Too late for what?”
“Too late to prevent …” the Head Eunuch was suddenly silent; then he asked gravely,
“You really don’t know?”
“Don’t know what?” asked Maryam, by now quite exasperated.
“Oh no. How did that happen?” he wondered.
“How did what happen?” she asked, still mystified.
So the Head Eunuch explained to this eighteen year old who was being trained as a
whore for the Emir’s guests and who had now been fucked several times in all three
entrances, exactly what the consequences might be if semen were left in her vagina after
intercourse. Because nobody was responsible for her in the Emir’s harem, not only had she
not been given the elementary bedroom training of any other harem-raised woman in the
land, nobody had even thought to tell her the basic facts of life. She hadn’t had her
periods explained to her, and thought it was some injury or disease that afflicted her,
and other women from time to time. Like a primitive savage, she did not connect sex with
babies and when asked, said she had never thought about where babies actually came from.
When she had been prepared and taken again into the General’s bedroom that night,
she followed the harem ritual, which she was to come to know so well, for the second time.
She progressed by kissing and licking her way from the foot of the bed to the erection
and working her mouth on the throbbing prick until it was ready to explode into its
ejaculation. This time the General allowed her to take him over the crest and to swallow
his first offerings. When he had completely finished the expulsion of the thick salty
fluid, she licked his penis until it was immaculately clean and then dried it with her
hair. As she started to kiss her way up from his prick towards his navel, the General
reached down and pulled her up until her head was level with his.
“Arse hole this time,” he said, and turned her on to her hands and knees.
Positioning himself behind her he thrust into the narrow sphincter, hardly giving
her time to relax the muscles as she had been taught. The copious oiling of her back
passage allowed the General’s monster organ to enter with relative ease and nothing split
as he buried himself up to the hilt in her bowels. As he started to pump, his hand crept
round her hip and on to her shaven mons. Finding the secret centre of her pleasures, the
General’s fingers tweaked and squeezed to such good effect that she was soon shaking and
twitching in the throes of an orgasm. The clenching of her internal muscles which this
provoked soon made the General come again, in her arse this time.
As they both subsided and his cock shrivelled and fell out of her arse hole, his
semen oozed out of the still gaping hole and fell in a pool in the bed beneath her.
Moving to find his most comfortable position for sleep, General Mustapha put his hand in
this wet slimy pool and was out of bed in an instant.
“Stupid woman,” he yelled. “Can’t you keep your arse shut when I’m not in it? Look
at this mess.”
Turning to the attending eunuch he snapped, “Get her out of here and take these wet
bedclothes with you. She can clean them herself before I deal with her.”
Once again in disgrace, Maryam was hustled into the punishment chamber where the
Head Eunuch shook his head as if in despair.
“What shall we do with you?” he asked rhetorically, “Well, get on with it. Lick all
the mess off these bedclothes and suck all the slime off them. Then dry them with your
hair and we can send them to be laundered in the usual way. When you have done that the
General will want to punish you, so you can spend the night waiting for him on the bench
there.”
After the unpleasant task of licking the cloth sheets was done, Maryam draped
herself over the whipping bench and tried to sleep.
‘At least nobody has tied me down this time,’ she thought, little realising the
implications of this inaction.
In the morning the General wandered into the punishment room and took up his
favourite pair of riding crops.
“Well, that is an improvement,” he said in an encouraging way, “Prepared to take
your punishment without being restrained, eh? Do you really think you can hold still
while I give you six more stripes? If you move I start again, you realise that?”
Maryam froze with total fear at that point; she had not even contemplated a
punishment taken without being fastened to the bench so as to be rendered totally
immobile, and did not know what she would do when the pain struck. The problem quickly
became an urgent one as:
Hiss, THWACK. Hiss, THWACK. Hiss, THWACK. Hiss, THWACK. Hiss, THWACK. Hiss,
THWACK.
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