The Three Domains: #6: A Shared Bed

The Three Domains

Copyright © 2022, Dave Potter

Previous chapter: Introduced to the Marigold Troupe

A Shared Bed

After we had been fed our tea by the maids, I bid my grandmother continue telling me all about her first day in the harem, for I do confess that I loved hearing her recollections. That world was all so glamorous and different to the closeted, provincial existence that I had hitherto know. I’m not saying that I would ever have wanted to live in the palace continually restrained as she was, unable to study, existing only to pleasure a man that I had not chosen (for I had always been clear that I would only ever accept a candidate for my hand and thus my bed that was of my choosing), but it was somehow exciting. Previously, sex had never been a topic suitable for conversation at home; it was relegated to whispers between other girls of my age who knew as little of the realities of the bedchamber as I did. Our world had been one of girlish fantasies, yet with grandmother it seemed so centre-stage in everything she did, and this titillated my senses.

“What would you like to know?” she asked with a smile.

“Oh, I don’t know, everything I suppose,” I replied, which was only half-true. What I really yearned to learn about was what happened in the Sultan’s bed. So, I plucked up a modicum of courage and asked, trying to sound only half-interested, “Did you sleep with the Sultan again that night? I mean, surely he missed you when you were away being enhanced…?”

Grandmother smiled, fully aware of my curiosity, for one imagines that all young ladies are alike in this manner and she was one herself years before. “Well, actually I did, although the experience was quite different to the first, and not as I had imagined, although it was pleasant in its own way.

“The Sultan naturally did miss me and wanted me in his bed as soon as he could. Like all boys, he was always obsessed with his latest toys and what could be more fun to play with than a concubine? Well, I guess that the answer to that is three of them, for the tradition in the palace was that, on her first night as an enhanced member of the harem, her whole troupe accompanies her to her Lord’s bed and so, that evening we were all bathed, had fragrant oils massaged into our bodies, our make-up perfected, and our hair done. Over the years, I had many different styles to please our Lord, but the one that I had that evening – two simple pigtails tied up with white ribbons – was both my favourite and his and, years later, it was the one I sported the final time that I was honoured with a call to his bedchamber on my last night in the palace.

“We were then led to the Royal Pleasure Chamber by our golden chains, our clit and nipple bells jingling erotically, promising untold joys to come. Our Lord was waiting on the bed, naked, his tool erect in anticipation. He smiled when he saw me, invited me on and remarked how I had grown since we’d last met. His words touched me, but I was still shy to be in the presence of such a great man, half-divine even. I tentatively crawled up the bed towards him and then moved my lips towards his to embrace as Ziazam had suggested I do. His lips met mine and I dissolved in pride and ecstasy as our tongues explored one another’s mouths and he stroked my hair with one hand whilst kneading my new breasts with the other, playing with the nipple rings causing waves of pleasure to shudder through my being. When we finally withdrew from one another he remarked that my kissing had improved as much as my breasts and then motioned for my Sisters to join us. He took time to kiss both Ziazam and Talleen in turn and then gestured for Talleen to lie beside him and Ziazam to withdraw. I thought for a moment that my beautiful eldest Sister had perhaps displeased him, but when she retreated only as far as his crotch and fastened her perfect lips around his rock-hard tool, I understand that quite the opposite was the case. ‘My God Ziazam, you are truly the best fucking cocksucker in this whole entire harem!’ I do declare that this crude language shocked me, particularly since it emanated from such a noble mouth, but neither Ziazam nor Talleen seemed nonplussed by it and I soon learnt that, whilst he was undoubtedly a man more noble than any other on earth, Our Lord did like to use dirty words in the bedchamber, perhaps to make us lesser mortals feel more included.

“He then turned onto his side, resting his head on Talleen’s gargantuan breasts as if they were cushions for his comfort, and then drew me to him, cupping my buttocks with his hand and engaging in another passionate embrace whilst Ziazam worked on his down below and Talleen rocked her breasts to and fro to caress his face. We continued like this for some minutes until he started to grow excited, and I thought he would erupt in my Sister’s mouth, but then she withdrew and asked, ‘Lord?’ ‘Not yet my little perfect cock sucker, not yet!’ so she let him calm down again before repeating her attack. All the while he groped and caressed my naked body, her bringing him to the edge no less than five times when he shouted, “Get off!” and both she Talleen withdrew from him, he knelt up, positioned his rod above my face and then, stroked it rapidly with his hand until jets of warm, salty seed splashed all over my face, drenching it.”

“He… erupted on your face?! But why? I thought that men liked to erupt in our holes!”

“Oh, my little chicken, you are as innocent now as I was then. Certainly, his actions surprised me although Ziazam had hinted beforehand that something like this might happen. ‘When it comes time for him to finish, he may not act as you expect,’ she’d said before adding, ‘or how you might like. But whatever happens, smile and be thankful.’ And so it was that the warm seed drenched me, some going in my eye and causing it to sting. I closed it to stop the pain, since with my arms bent uselessly into reverse prayer, there was little else I could do. I hoped he would wipe it off, but instead he simply knelt there watching me as if admiring a masterpiece, and so I kept smiling and said quietly, ‘Thank you Master for honouring me like this!’ That made him chuckle and he stroked my hair again so I was sure that I’d done the right thing, and we lay down again, him cuddling me and I wishing I could return the embrace. He paid particular attention to my behind and then, after some minutes, when we had both recovered somewhat, he suddenly said, ‘Zagiri, that is your name, right?’ I nodded at him and gazed at him through my one eye, for the seed was fast drying and the other eye had now dried shut. ‘Stand up and let me look at that bottom of yours!’ I did as I was bidden, standing on the silken sheets whilst he and my two Sisters looked on. He had me turn around and remarked to them, ‘Ladies, if that isn’t the finest bottom in all creation, then I am surely an idiot!’ Talleen cuddled up to him and replied, ‘Master, you are no idiot; Zagiri’s bum is peachy and perfect. We are proud to have her in our troupe.’ He turned to her, kissed her on the lips and remarked, ‘You have the perfect tits, Ziazam here the perfect lips and Zagiri here the perfect bottom. Perhaps the Marigolds are the perfect team, eh?!’ Ziazam wiggled between his legs and said, ‘We try to be, Master, for you are the perfect Lord!’

“With those words, she started sucking again and within seconds he was hard. This time, he ordered me on my knees, bum in the air, whilst he admired it from behind and approached me. I had heard that men sometimes like to push their members into the bottom hole but, in all honesty, I was dreading this as I’d always considered it a dirty and most private place. Sure enough though, the little golden plug that was in it with its twinkling jewel on the end was removed and he tried to push his rock-hard member into that place. However, try as he might, it simply would not fit and, after a minute or so, he clicked his fingers towards Talleen and she took my place, her mammoth mammaries squashing like pancakes beneath her, her own enhanced and sizeable rear presented for his approval. Ziazam motioned with her eyes for me to withdraw and so I did as he ceremonially took out Talleen’s own, much larger jewelled bottom plug, placing it next to mine and then approaching her with his member. Ziazam motioned for me to go under him and start sucking his dangling testicles which I did with gusto even though, as he started his rhythm, this was no easy to do. Ziazam herself went behind him and began to titillate his own bottom hole with her tongue. His excitement grew, the thrusts getting harder and every time he impaled Talleen she groaned, a strange mixture of toil and ecstasy. Within minutes though, we sense him about to finish and he rammed into her with force, spurting his load deep within her bowels before collapsing upon her.

“Minutes later we had almost reverted to our former places. He had replaced our two bottom plugs and was using Talleen’s breasts as his pillow again whilst holding me close, his hand on my bottom, as Ziazam lay below, his now limp member resting in her mouth. Within seconds, his breathing grew heavy as sleep overcame him and we smiled, knowing that we had done our duty and brought him great pleasure.

“Yet even as he slept, I could not. Partly it was the excitement, but there were other emotions too. The pride I felt in the compliment he paid to my bottom was tinged with worry about the fact that I knew it was my rear that he’d wanted to impale, not Talleen’s, and I had failed him in that regard. Most of all though, the erotic activities had caused a fire in my loins, an unquenched fire which, with my restrained arms, could never be quelled.

“But then, as his breathing grew even heavier and I heard Talleen start to sleep above me, I sensed movements, slight but perceptible. In the dark of the balmy night, Ziazam ejected herself from her position and sidled up to me. Silently, I extracted myself from our Lord’s embrace and then moved towards her. She positioned her face over my hairless crotch, and I did the same over her own denuded love channel. Reading each other’s minds wordlessly, we got our tongues to work, playing with the clit rings and exploring those sacred caves before, almost without expecting, I shuddered and found myself erupting with such pleasure, such joy, such indescribable ecstasy, that I’m sure I almost blacked out. It was my first-ever orgasm, and, despite all my expectations, it was a fellow female that had caused it.

“As I climaxed, so did she and we lay there panting for a minute or so, before silently embracing and then returning to our positions of service next to the Lord that we worshipped and loved so deeply, our feminine secret safe between us.”

After she had finished telling her tale of that erotic night, it was time for me also to go to bed. I retired to my room where the maid had run a bath. I entered it naked but with my arms still bound and she soaped me thoroughly. I wished greatly that my hands were free as the images of my grandmother’s steamy night with the Sultan were filling my head and I longed to touch myself.

Afterwards, I was towelled dry and released. My hands stayed chained behind my back though. That night the most lust-filled dreams filled my head, and I woke up twice, my sex on fire before finally drifting off into darkness.

Next chapter: The Three Domains

The Three Domains: #5: Introduced to the Marigold Troupe

The Three Domains

Copyright © 2022, Dave Potter

Previous chapter: Transformed into a Concubine fit for the Sultan

Introduced to the Marigold Troupe

When she finished the servants entered as it was dinner time. They walked us to the dining room and fed us delicate titbits before we washed it down with a glass of wine and then returned to the sitting room. “Where was I?” grandmother asked.

“You were about to tell me about when you first met your Sisters,” I reminded her.

She nodded and smiled a wistful smile. “Ah, yes indeed, what a day that was. You will not understand it now, of course, for you are young and have only ever known life within the bosom of your close family, but for a concubine in a harem, her Sisters – and we refer to them with a capital ‘S’ for they are so important – are the most important thing in the world. Well, the most important thing aside from their Lord of course, but he is different. He is a man and has many worldly concerns and so cannot dedicate every moment to his devoted pleasure babies. But your Sisters, well, how can I say it? I suppose they become your family: mothers, sisters, cousins and even lovers all rolled into one.”

“Lovers?!”

“Yes, lovers, but I shall come to that later. Certainly, on the day in question, that aspect of the relationship was totally unknown to me. But a harem concubine leads such a strange and noble life. She sees no one in the flesh save for her Lord on the occasions when he is kind enough to invite her to serve him, and her sisters. Yes, there are the maids, but they are veiled all of the time and rarely if ever speak. Indeed, developing a close relationship with a maid would be most improper as they are so far below a concubine in standing. But that is all, well, except for the water maidens I suppose but… forget them, I shall come to them later and in the big scheme of things they are unimportant. But one’s Sisters, nothing could matter more.

“The Sultan’s harem, like all noble harems I believe, is divided into troupes. The largest and most important are of course his wives, of which he may have a maximum of seven, one for every day of the week. Only wives are allowed to bear his children and so they are most exalted indeed, certainly far higher in standing than us concubines, even though all of them are chosen from our ranks. When I entered the harem, Our Lord already had two wives, but we had no dealings with them; they lived separately in their own sumptuous quarters and our only interaction was when we were in the Third Domain together in the Chamber or gardens, so all I ever witnessed were two sumptuously-adorned caskets of jewels and material.

“Below the wives were us concubines and our number had no legal or religious limits. How many concubines the Sultan had at any one time, I cannot say. We were never told – why would we be? – and when we were in the Chamber for a grand assembly, there could be hundreds of women present, but how many of those were concubines and how many of those were female royals or wives and daughters of the nobility, who can say. Based on the frequency of his interactions with us though, I would estimate our number to have been around fifty, and we were all divided into troupes which could number between two and four girls in each. Our troupe was the Marigolds – each troupe was named after a particular flower, for are not noble women naught more than pretty flowers who bloom to please their master? – and to mark that fact, our navel jewellery was in the shape of a marigold. As for the other troupes, I cannot recall them all, but there were roses and tulips, daffodils and daisies, peonies and, oh I don’t know what else, it doesn’t matter anyway.

“Our marigold troupe was a new one and had only been established a year earlier (the Sultan had been on the throne for three years when I entered the harem) and it had two other members: Ziazam and Talleen, both of whom had entered service at the same time and were a year older than me. Both, like me and you Sevan, hailed from Gentanants Province which has long been famed in the empire for its beautiful women, and they had our distinctive lilting Gentanantsi accents. Ziazam though, was seen as the leader, or mother of the troupe, for she was older than Talleen by a couple of months.

“I was brought before them restrained and almost naked as they represented my entry into the First Domain. They were the first faces and bodies that I had seen since my night with the Sultan and the only ones I would see – Our Lord and the water maidens excepted – for many years. I stood before them vulnerable, chained, and bejewelled and they sat on a sofa side-by-side in exactly the same state; their arms bent into the reverse prayer configuration, bells jingling from their nipples and clits and a distinctive marigold in each of their navels.

“But whilst much was similar, much was distinct too. Ziazam was slender, with long legs that seemed to go on forever and a noticeable gap between them at the crotch. Her hips were shapely but not large and her breasts, although clearly artificially enhanced for no natural breast could be so perfectly spherical, were more modest than my own, each being the approximate size of a large orange. She rose from the seat with such perfect elegance, her hips sashaying that I felt in awe of her femininity, bewitched by her movements. Her lips were full, her make-up perfect and her eyes the colour of chocolate. She smiled a smile of unimaginable beauty and spoke with the voice of an angel, ‘You must be Zagiri, welcome to the Marigold Troupe. Talleen and I have so been looking forward to your arrival. My name is Ziazam. Have you been taught yet how we must greet one another?’

“‘Erm, no Ziazam,’ I awkwardly replied.

“She smiled again. ‘There is a protocol to follow I’m afraid. Everything here is about protocol; it is very important. Harem Sisters must greet one another in a specific fashion and the more senior Sister greets the younger first and then it is repeated. And since I have been led to believe that you are younger than me, please accept my greeting.’

“She came up to me and then bowed her head towards my chest. I was about to do likewise, when she moved her mouth to my left nipple, which she licked and then suckled, causing shivers of pleasure to tingle down my spine. She then withdrew, did the same to my right nipple, before then straightening again, and kissing me on the lips, her tongue entering my mouth and playing around with my own for a second or so before withdrawing. My enhanced breasts were now surging with excitement, and I was breathing heavily. I thought that was it, but she was not finished. Instead, she gracefully knelt before me, brought her face to my exposed crotch and started to lick and kiss there, teasing my newly-pierced clitoris and causing spasms of joy to rock through my body.

“But then as soon as it had started, she finished and withdrew, leaving me excited but unfulfilled. ‘The last taste on a lady’s tongue should always be of her Sister’s juices,’ she declared with a smile before stepping back. ‘Now Zagiri, you greet me.’

“Trembling, I bowed my head towards her breasts, tentatively taking the left nipple in my mouth and clumsily licking and sucking on it before withdrawing and doing the same with the right. I found the whole experience so nerve-wracking yet also exciting and intimate. I straightened up and faced her beautiful visage, linking my newly-enlarged lips with her own and exchanging another passionate kiss, although this time my tongue was the active one and hers the passive. Finally, my heart pounding, I withdrew, knelt down clumsily so that I almost fell and then put my face to her sex, breathing in her scent, letting her juices cover my tongue as I worked it around her pierced and ringed clit. When I withdrew, the taste was still pervasive and sweat droplets had formed on my brow. I stood back up and looked at her. She turned to Talleen who had by now risen from the couch and giggled. ‘Her technique requires refinement, but I think that she enjoyed getting to know me!’ she exclaimed. Talleen giggled back and I turned my attentions to her.

“Where Ziazam had been slender, Talleen was voluptuous. Her hips were wide and whilst Ziazam’s jet-black hair was neatly done in plaits, Talleen’s chestnut mane was left free and it flowed in shiny waves to her waist. Most noticeably of all though were her breasts. Whilst Ziazam and I had undergone enhancements there, Talleen’s were on another level. Two unnaturally large, unnaturally buoyant spherical footballs jutted from her chest, bouncing with every movement. If Ziazam was the elegant femme fatale, Talleen was the fertile earth goddess. She approached me and worked similar wonders on my breasts, lips and cleft. When it came to my turn, I marvelled at those breasts close up, their tautness and size, and was intrigued by the difference in her scent and taste to that of Ziazam.

“‘You are right, Sister,’ said Talleen when I had finished. ‘Young Zagiri’s technique is crude at the moment, but I suspect she shall prove to be a quick and able learner! Welcome, to the Marigolds Zagiri, shall we have some tea…?’”

“We all agreed that tea would be an excellent idea and so retired to the couch whilst the servants prepared it. I suppose, before I continue, I should say a word about our Marigold Troupe Chamber, for it is where I spend much of my early adult life.

“It was a large room, as big as our entire house back in Gentanants Province, with a white marble floor and potted plants around the edge. The main furnishings were three sofas upon which we could lounge. High up on one of the walls was a latticed window from which our Lord could gaze down upon us. Natural light was provided by skylights and lattices high up, but there was no way that outsiders could see us. It was a feminine sanctuary and I loved it. On that first day, as I sat snuggled between the naked and restrained forms of my two new Sisters, I felt almost entirely happy. The only things that marred my joy were my bound arms – they were decidedly uncomfortable, and I’d still not got used to being unable to use my hands for anything – and the thick golden chain that had one end attached to a ring set in the floor and the other around my ankle by means of a golden cuff.”

“You were chained up, grandmother?!”

“We all were my little chicken. It was only right and proper as it ensured we did not wander into forbidden areas and get seen by strange men. From that post three chains stretched out to Ziazam, Talleen and I. As the days progressed, I began to normalise it and soon I didn’t notice that chain at all, but back then it was new, and I found it strange.”

“Go on, grandmother!”

“Alright then. So, we had tea which the veiled maids fed to us in dainty sips, dabbing our lips after each imbibement, and as we drank, Ziazam and Talleen told me their stories.

“Ziazam came from Shusha, the capital of our province. She was noted from an early age for her elegance and beauty and by fourteen had become an accomplished dancer and was affianced to one Derenik, the eldest son of the Sarkisyan clan. As such, she was enrolled at the Shusha Girls’ School so as to gain a full wifely education and, whilst there, she excelled. It was also whilst there that she was spotted by one of the harem scouts. A video was taken of her dancing the Eagle’s Flight routine and the moment that he saw it, the young Sultan was transfixed. ‘I have to have that girl!’ he is reported to have said, and so she was taken to the palace and deflowered.

On the same day that she was taken to the palace, she was accompanied by another burqa-clad figure. That was her – and my – future Sister, Talleen. The two knew each other already, though only slightly. Talleen was born to a family of middling merchants, but from an early age she demonstrated an incredible intelligence and aptitude for learning. Her father paid for her to do to the Shusha Girls’ School where she became the star pupil, passing exams at fifteen that most boys struggle with at eighteen. When the scouts came looking, they saw that intelligence as an asset, particularly since she was pretty as well, although nowhere near in the same league as Ziazam. But the fact was, the Sultan had been developing a taste for more curvaceous girls with wide hips and ample breasts and so he agreed to take her as well, considering that Ziazam would require a Sister as she begun her harem journey, and that an intelligent girl might make a suitable future wife. So, she was deflowered the night following Ziazam and they both began life as the newly-established Marigold Troupe.

“Ziazam’s enhancements were not many. To put it simply, she did not need them. Like me, a slight thickening of the lips and some work on her breasts. She told me that before she’d had none to speak of, her chest almost as flat as a boy’s. Those that she now sported were obviously artificial but were not excessive.

“Talleen was a different matter entirely. She had never possessed the natural beauty and grace that her Sister had been blessed with, and so much remedial work was required. Her natural breasts, although large for her age, sagged and were without a pleasing form. The Sultan, in his infinite wisdom, decided to use her as a canvas for his artwork, to see what sizes could be accommodated on a young lady. She had the broad chest to support them so he went big and when one looked at her, one couldn’t help but stare. Talleen hated them. She never criticised Our Lord outright, for that would have been most shameful and unfair, but she regularly complained about their weight, their artificial shape and how they got in the way and defined her. When she started, Ziazam would hush her, reminding her that she should be grateful to be so blessed, but Talleen never quite changed her mind.

“In all truthfulness, whilst Ziazam was most happy to be in the harem serving Our Lordship – she confessed to me that she’d never liked Derenik Sarkisyan as he was somewhat older than her and known to be a cruel bully, and so was glad to have escaped her original destiny – Talleen did not want to be there. She had loved studying and had dreamt of a life reading books and perhaps marrying a scholar. She would rail from time to time about how society treated women primarily as sex objects rather than seeing them as independent and free souls. Ziazam and I would giggle about this for it was befuddled speech; of course, a woman’s primary purpose is to provide sexual pleasure for her Lord, and the idea that she should be free and independent was quite simply dangerous! Well, those were my thoughts then, and largely are today, although when I see how unhappy some husbands make their wives, I do wonder if she spoke some truth in amongst all that madness.”

She was about to tell me more, but the maids approached bearing more tea and so we paused and focussed on drinking instead.

Next chapter: A Shared Bed

The Three Domains: #4: Transformed into a Concubine fit for the Sultan

The Three Domains

Copyright © 2022, Dave Potter

Previous chapter: The Divine Deflowerment

Transformed into a Concubine fit for the Sultan

Just as grandmother had finished that episode, the servants brought in some lunch. Again, it was strange to be fed by another like I was small baby, but I was starting to normalise it a little. Grandmother did not return to her story during the meal, but after we had drunk the last of the tea that washed it down, she resumed her tale:

“After my deflowering by the Sultan, we both fell asleep, I still chained like a starfish to the royal bed. In the night, whilst he snored loudly, his head on my breast, veiled maids came in and silently untied me, a barely visible naked figure taking my place and providing him with comfort. He never even stirred.

“I was led down countless corridors and then into a lift. We descended down, below the level of the ground floor, into the bowels of the earth. When the doors opened, I found myself in a medical establishment with white tiled walls and floors clean enough to eat your dinner off. The silent veiled maids led me down a couple of corridors into an operating theatre with a gurney in the centre. A veiled female doctor stood by in green scrubs.

“‘Please lie on the bed, Zagiri,’ she told me. I did as I was told because, well, one should, but I was confused. Why was I in a hospital? What were they going to do to me? As if reading my thoughts, the doctor spoke. ‘Zagiri, I know that this must be confusing for you, frightening almost, but do not fear. All entrants into His Lordship’s harem must undergo certain enhancements to their figure. The Sultan will lie with you in your natural state for the Divine Deflowerment, but after that he should lie with a woman that befits his status. Noble girls in this land all undergo enhancements to display with their very beings their high rank. So too will you. I have the exact dimensions decreed by His Lordship and, do not fear, compared to many girls, the enhancements required are not extreme. So, lie down, relax and let me administer this injection.’

“I felt the needle slip into my arm but that was all. Within seconds the drowsiness hit me like a tidal wave, and I entered a deep sleep.

“When I awoke, I was lying in a proper hospital bed in a different room. I felt weak and drifted in and out of sleep for a while. I also felt thirsty but when I tried to move my arms and legs, I found that they were secured to the bed, so I waited. After some time, a nurse came and fed me some water. It tasted so pure and fresh as it trickled down my dry throat that I could have cried with joy. Then I was left alone again.

“After an indeterminate amount of time the nurse returned with the doctor. She asked me how I was feeling, and the nurse unfastened me. They helped me to sit up and then stand. A mirror was brought in, and I saw my new appearance for the first time.

“The doctor had described my enhancements as ‘not extreme’, but I noticed them straight away. Whereas before I’d had small, maidenly breasts, two large spherical objects now rested unnaturally on my chest, each the size of a honey melon, with nipples the size of peanuts. With every movement they bobbed but they never sagged.

“My face too was different. My lips, previously thin, were now thicker, more luscious, as if I were waiting for a kiss. I liked them although I wasn’t sure about the breasts. ‘Most girls have work done on their bottoms too, but the Sultan described yours as perfect already. It is a great compliment as he is renowned as a fervent admirer and connoisseur of the female posterior.’ How anyone could be a connoisseur of a bum, I really couldn’t understand – although I was soon to learn! – and I had always thought mine too large in comparison with the other girls in the hammam, but if the Sultan admired it then I was happy. The childlike virgin of but a few days ago had been replaced by a woman.

“I recovered in that place for several days, not that I knew how long for, being deep underground, there was no daylight to measure time by. And as I recovered, other changes were made. Firstly, I was visited by the palace piercer. Rings were fitted to the sides of my nose and in my ears, whilst in my navel a tiny gold marigold was added. My most intimate area I learned, had been treated with lasers whilst I was sleeping and was now totally denuded of hair. As I lay strapped to the bed, a vacuum was fitted to my clitoris which teased it greatly and engorged the tiny organ. Then it was removed, and the piercer numbed it, stuck a needle through it and then fitted a golden ring. To this was attached a tiny golden bell. Finally, the same treatment was applied to my new nipples and now, with every movement, I tinkled like a set of sleigh bells.

“These piercings, however, were not the most intrusive that I received. Next, a pair of pliers was used to pull my tongue out and this was then numbered. Three holes were then punched through the organ and golden bars with orbs on either end fitted, before she then moved to the tip of my tongue, through which a dainty golden ring was fitted.

“She then moved downstairs again to my most intimate areas again, using her needle to pierce five large holes through the fleshy petals on either side of my love channel. These were lined with gold grommets and a golden thread laced through them which was then tied off in a bow, sealing my most intimate place shut. Before this was done though, a golden ball filled with some sort of liquid was placed in there. The lacings hid it from view and kept it in place and whenever I moved the liquid caused it to stir, causing the most exciting but frustrating feelings.

“The most radical change though, was to my arms. Ever since entering the harem, my hands had been restrained in one way or another, but now they were taking this to another level. I was taught that noble ladies have their hands and arms restrained whenever possible to demonstrate their high status for unlike poor girls, they have no need for hands, having servants to fulfil their every need. In addition to this, in the harem, restraints were even more necessary for not only were they found to be aesthetically pleasing by the Sultan, but also, they represented a safety measure. In past times, evil plotters had sought to overthrow the ruler of the day by presenting a pretty maiden to the palace who was then bedded by the Sultan and then, whilst he was sleeping, would attempt to murder him with her hands. So, several centuries earlier, it was decreed that arm restraints were mandatory in the harem, and I was now being trained in the most graceful and difficult manner of achieving this.

“It is called the reverse prayer for the hands are kept, palm-to-palm as if in prayer. However, unlike in usual devotions, they are kept in this manner behind, not in front of the girl, with the elbows touching behind her back. Achieving this took much pain and the slow tightening of restraints, but eventually I was able to hold the excruciating yet elegant position. Once this was achieved, a beautician came and trimmed and plucked my eyebrows, applied make-up to my face and nipples, layered my luscious new lips in a deep pink colour and then declared me finished. Certainly, looking in the mirror at this unbelievably elegant and grown-up woman, with swelling breasts and seemingly no eyes, I felt both excited and yet also scared. The Zagiri that I knew so well, seemed to have vanished, been subsumed by this new erotic creature.

“All the while the work was being done, I also had the hair denuding cream slathered all over my body every couple of days and then a full oiling and massaging by the maid. Furthermore, after the first massage was over, she turned her attentions towards my bottom which the Sultan had praised so highly and started sticking her finger into the hole there. I wondered what on earth she was doing and protested, but she continued her massaging and oiling anyway and then produced a most queer item indeed.

“It was a small implement made of solid gold with a ruby nestled in one end. After this it narrowed and then expanded out again into an egg-shape. The overall effect was not unlike an egg sitting in its cup on the breakfast table. This egg she manoeuvred into the hole in my bottom, the muscles resisting the intrusion at first before letting it in with a pop and then closing back over the trunk, sealing it in there and causing the ruby to look like a twinkling red eye if you viewed me from behind. This intrusion was not overtly uncomfortable as it was not large, but it was a constant reminder of my new status in life and every time my body shifted, the plug moved inside me causing strange sensations.

“A golden collar was fitted around my neck with a chain leading from it and I was led out of that subterranean hospital back up to the palace to meet my Sisters for the very first time.

Next chapter: Introduced to the Marigold Troupe