Of Pain and Delight

by Heidi Stone

  ‘What is your name?’ she asked, her voice resuming an authoritarian tone.

  ‘I am Aisha,’ the girl said quietly.

  ‘You are Aisha, mistress,’ commanded Sahria.

  ‘I am Aisha, mistress,’ the pretty girl corrected in a hushed tone, her large eyes widening in fearful resignation.

  Sahria walked slowly around the trembling figure, stroked her shoulders with the whip, and then ran the tip of the handle down to the hem of her short smock and hooked it under the delicate material, raising it slightly.

  ‘Remove it,’ she ordered. The girl quickly pulled the smock over her head and then stood naked before the assembled group, her head bowed in shame. She had a waif-like body with apple-firm breasts, narrow waist and boyish hips. Her skin was as white as alabaster, although the cheeks of her face were flushed with embarrassment. Her hair was long and blonde with barely a curl in the smooth tresses, which cascaded and fell about her slim shoulders, framing the elfin features of her cute face.

  Her only similarity with the statuesque Zia was her full, pouting lips, which seemed to be permanently pursed for a long and passionate kiss. ‘Look at me,’ said Sahria, as she raised the girl’s face by lifting her chin with her whip handle. Aisha looked up nervously. Her eyes were wide and clear blue and shone with virginal innocence. ‘Tell us about yourself.’

  The girl glanced around at the others, then looked at Zia, who nodded in encouragement. ‘As I said, mistress, my name is Aisha,’ she said. ‘I come from the north, where the weather is cold and the countryside is lush and beautiful. I am seventeen years of age. I was captured by a band of rogue fishermen one day whilst walking along the beach near my home, and sold as a slave. My new master tired of me and I was sold again to the merchants who brought me here.’

  ‘Why did your master tire of you?’ asked Calema. Aisha looked at the rubber-clad figure sitting on the couch.

  ‘In truth, it was his wife who wanted rid of me,’ she answered. ‘She was jealous.’

  ‘Did you have sex with your master?’ asked Sahria.

  The girl nodded. ‘Yes, mistress, many times.’

  ‘And the wife found out?’

  ‘She was usually there. I… I had sex with her, too.’

  Calema rose and sidled beside her, resting a hand on her narrow shoulder. ‘Did you enjoy sex with your mistress?’ she asked excitedly, much to Sahria’s amusement.

  ‘I – I enjoy it with either sex,’ Aisha admitted, blushing shamefully. ‘I always have.’

  Calema smiled and smoothed gloved hand over the girl’s lithe form until she cupped her down-covered pussy, and Aisha shuddered with pleasure and closed her eyes.

  ‘Calema, leave her,’ said Sahria, and her friend reluctantly moved away from the girl and sat back on the couch, a petulant expression on her face. ‘So, if you were having sex with both your master and your mistress, why did she become jealous?’

  ‘Each week the master would invite some of his male friends to join us. They would make love to both his wife and to me, but it soon became obvious that they all preferred me.’

  ‘Then you must have had sex with a great number of men.’

  Aisha nodded. ‘I love it, mistress,’ she said in a voice that rang with inappropriate innocence.

  ‘You will be a favourite of the prince, of that I am sure.’

  ‘I hope so, mistress,’ replied Aisha, and then her expression suddenly took on a look of concern. ‘There will be others, won’t there, mistress? It won’t just be the prince?’

  Sahria laughed and ran her fingers through the lustrous tresses of the girl’s hair. ‘Don’t worry, my sweet little nymphet. There will be many a fine prick straining to satisfy your hunger. But first, like the others, you must learn subservience.’ She crouched down and gazed at Aisha’s pouting sex lips, finding it hard to imagine that such a dainty hole could accommodate the thick erection of a rampant male. Aisha moved her hips forward in invitation, as if expecting similar treatment to that which Zia had enjoyed with Calema. Sahria was tempted, but merely kissed the downy hair lightly, and then stood up. ‘Step back in line,’ she said, before moving to stand before the next in line.

  She now faced a girl of apparently oriental descent. Sahria signalled with her whip and the girl removed her smock. Her breasts were full and her stomach flat, curving sensuously to her bushy groin. Her olive skin glowed in the sunlight. ‘Your name?’ she demanded, but the girl said nothing. ‘What is your name?’ repeated Sahria. ‘Speak!’

  The girl’s narrow eyes widened in terror but she remained silent, so Sahria raised the whip and the girl cowered fearfully. ‘I said speak!’ Sahria roared.

  ‘Mistress…’ Aisha interrupted cautiously.

  ‘Silence!’ snapped Sahria, glaring at the girl. ‘Speak your name or your punishment will be most severe!’ But the girl shook her head. Furious, Sahria brought the whip down and lashed her across her buttocks. She gasped with pain but still said nothing.

  ‘Mistress, please,’ said Aisha, her voice trembling, ‘she cannot.’

  Sahria lowered the whip. ‘What do you mean?’

  Aisha rested her hand on the sobbing girl’s shoulder. ‘Mistress, she can hear what you say, but she cannot speak. She is mute.’

  Sahria stepped back guiltily. The girl whimpered quietly as tears ran down her lovely face. Sahria felt she should apologise, but then considered that to do so might be taken as a sign of weakness. After a few awkward moments she moved forward, cupped the girl’s face, and kissed her passionately, full on the mouth. The girl stiffened with shock, but quickly relaxed and responded by parting her lips slightly to allow Sahria’s tongue to slip between them. The embrace lasted a good few moments, and then Sahria stepped back, and the girl smiled.

  ‘Does anyone here know her name?’ she asked of the group, but they shook their heads. She looked into the girl’s eyes, still wet with tears. ‘Can you write your name?’ she said softly. The girl nodded, so Calema searched and found a crayon and some parchment, which she handed to Sahria. She gave them to the girl and she wrote quickly with trembling hands, and then gave the paper back.

  ‘Su-Lee,’ said Sahria, ‘a lovely name.’ The girl smiled and motioned that she wished to write something else. Sahria handed the parchment back and she scrawled a few words before shyly holding the paper out in front of her. Sahria read the words with astonishment. Under her name, Su-Lee had written, Beat me again, in clear but shaky handwriting.

  Sahria shook her head. ‘I cannot,’ she said, ‘you have not done anything to deserve further punishment.’

  Su-Lee’s response was to turn and bend with her ankles together, her legs straight and her hands resting on the floor. Sahria looked at her upturned bottom, marked by a single red welt, and her mind raced. This was an open act of defiance that must not go unpunished, but the girl actually wanted to be lashed, and the other girls stood in silent expectation.

  ‘You will not be beaten simply because you wish it,’ Sahria decreed at last. ‘I will decide when the lash is to be used. You will not demand it of me.’ She heard Su-Lee sigh with disappointment as she began to rise, and for some reason this infuriated her, so without warning she whipped her with incredible force across her bottom. Every girl in the group gasped with shock and Su-Lee fell forward onto her hands and knees.

  Sahria smiled cruelly. ‘As I said, I will decide.’ She looked at Calema, who nodded in approval.

  The next girl stepped forward and removed her smock without being asked to do so. She had similar colouring and features to Zia, but was shorter in height.

  ‘I am called Jo-Jo,’ she said proudly.

  ‘Did I ask you to speak?’ said Sahria, with mock anger, and the girl looked crestfallen as Sahria turned to her friend. ‘Calema, thrash this one for her impertinence.’

  Calema bowed and took the whip from Sahria.

  �
�Turn and bend forward,’ Sahria commanded Jo-Jo. The frightened girl immediately did as ordered, and Sahria admired the globes of her buttocks as Calema prepared to administer the punishment. Then Sahria turned to face the remainder of the group of girls.

  ‘Know this, my pretty waifs,’ she began. ‘You will not speak unless ordered, and you will obey instructions without question. Otherwise, you will feel the kiss of the lash, or,’ she looked at Su-Lee, ‘something more appropriate.

  ‘Now, administer the punishment,’ she said vehemently.

  Calema raised her arm high and brought the whip down fiercely onto the girl’s plump bottom. Her buttocks quivered and she yelped. A second stroke cut her across her bottom, then a third and a fourth. The welts appeared quickly. Calema had certainly developed considerable expertise in the art of flagellation.

  ‘Enough,’ Sahria ordered, and Calema immediately handed her the whip and resumed her place on the couch. The sobbing girl remained in her bent position. She had learned her lesson well.

  ‘Stand,’ Sahria said, and the girl obeyed, her tearful eyes shining with excitement, and the lush hairs between her legs glistening with obvious dampness. ‘Now, Jo-Jo,’ said Sahria in a gentler tone, ‘tell us about yourself.’

  Jo-Jo took a deep breath, and then began. ‘I am seventeen and I have had sex with seventeen men,’ she said proudly, although her voice was trembling slightly.

  ‘Have you ever had sex with a woman?’ asked Calema.

  ‘No. In that respect I am still a virgin.’

  ‘You will not be before this day is out,’ teased Calema.

  ‘When are we going to meet some men?’ asked Aisha excitedly, attracting a glare from Sahria. ‘Sorry, mistress,’ the blonde added hastily, realising her sin and bowing fearfully.

  Sahria chose to ignore her outburst and moved to stand before the last two girls. They were as alike as jewels in a royal crown, and of Persian descent. ‘Ah,’ she said, ‘twin sisters. The prince will like that, I am sure. Remove your clothing so we may see if you are alike in every way.’

  The two girls did as ordered until they stood as naked as the others. They were trim and shapely, and Sahria noticed immediately that they both had their nipples pierced with small gold rings. ‘What are your names?’ she asked.

  ‘I am Shalma, and this is my sister, Lisha,’ said one. The two girls bowed reverently as she spoke.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘We are nineteen years of age.’ It was the second girl who spoke this time. ‘We were sold into sex slavery by our uncle following the death of our parents, two years ago. We have served many masters.’

  ‘Did your masters beat you?’

  ‘Invariably,’ replied Shalma, ‘and never without cause.’

  ‘Do you take pleasure in pain?’

  ‘Always,’ said Lisha, with an easy smile, ‘and we like to share our experiences together.’

  ‘You must have learnt much from your experiences,’ said Calema.

  ‘There is always more that can be discovered.’

  ‘Quite so,’ said Sahria. ‘What would you say if I told you that I was going to beat you now?’

  The girls looked shocked. ‘We have not given you cause to punish us,’ protested Lisha. ‘Surely it would not be right.’

  ‘I agree,’ said her sister, ‘we have obeyed your every command. You cannot punish us.’

  ‘The very fact that you have the temerity to voice your objections is reason enough,’ Sahria pointed out. ‘Am I not your mistress?’

  The two girls bowed their heads in acknowledgement of Sahria’s words. ‘Turn and stand together,’ she continued. ‘After all, you did say that you enjoy sharing your experiences, did you not?’

  Shalma and Lisha said nothing, but turned and stood meekly to await their punishment.

  ‘Press close together,’ ordered Sahria, and the sisters moved closer so that their hips touched. ‘You will receive just one cut, as a warning to you all that we demand total obedience.’

  She raised her arm and waited. The twins stood erect, their heads held proudly, and Sahria purposely let them wait. The other girls watched in silence, scarcely daring to breathe. The two Persians hardly moved, standing without the slightest sign of trembling, clearly well used to chastisement.

  Sahria aimed carefully. Bringing the whip down swiftly she ensured the lash cut across both bottoms with equal ferocity. There was no sound from either girl – not even the slightest whimper. She was tempted to administer more strokes, but knew that she must keep her word. Once must suffice.

  She threw the flail down onto a table and perched on a high stool. ‘You may turn and face me,’ she said. The twins obeyed and stood together without a trace of emotion showing on their faces. Sahria looked at the line of girls. They were each beautiful in their own way. The prince would be pleased.

  But first they had to be trained and corrected. They had strong personalities and had to be taught total subservience. It would not be an easy task. Shalma and Lisha would probably be the most difficult to train; they had no doubt experienced much during their time of slavery and had become hardened to pain. She gestured to them. ‘Come and kneel before me,’ she commanded.

  She arched her back and pushed her hips forward, while spreading her legs wide. The two girls stared at the proffered sight of her wet sex lips. ‘Lick me,’ she said, ‘both of you at the same time.’ Shalma and Lisha looked at each other. ‘I said lick me. Refuse and I will see to it that your bottoms are cut to ribbons.’

  The girls leaned in, gingerly moving their mouths closer and closer to Sahria’s pussy. Lisha pushed out her tongue and the tip touched Sahria’s outer lips, and then drew her tongue back immediately. Then Shalma did the same, and it was clear that neither girl had tasted the scent of a woman before.

  ‘Lick me,’ repeated Sahria. ‘Do it like you would have a man do it to you. You know what pleases a woman – make me come in your mouths or it will be bad for you, I promise!’

  The twins began to lap around her moist opening. Slowly they warmed to the task and started to suckle and nibble her outer lips whilst delving their tongues into her and alternately licking across her hard bud. Sahria sensed a great feeling of power and dominance as she watched the two proud girls serve her. They would obey her without question in future.

  ‘Enough,’ she said presently. She hadn’t come, but this time it was not necessary. The lesson had been learned, and the twins moved from her and rejoined the line.

  Sahria stood up and faced the group. ‘We will break for one hour, to give you all time to reflect upon what you have witnessed. I want you to go to the blue chambers. There you will find many exotic items of clothing. You will each select that which you feel suits you best and dress accordingly, then return here. Following this the lessons will begin in earnest.

  ‘Some of you are sexually experienced and some are not. You will be taught subservience to men, and you will be instructed in ways in which to please your lovers so that they never forget you. As one of the twins wisely said, there is always much that can be learned.’

  Chapter 8

  Sahria and Calema were sitting on opposite sofas sipping cool glasses of wine. The room was becoming hot as the sun rose higher, and the atmosphere was stifling. Calema had removed her rubber hood and was teasing her blonde hair through her fingers.

  Two Nubian menservants stood impassively, cooling the girls with large fans made from ostrich feathers. Sahria regarded them with a wry smile. These were the same two men who had turned on her, and now they were once more at her beck and call, by orders of the prince.

  She allowed her eyes to feast on their muscular bodies and remembered how they had taken her. At first she had been unwilling; it was unheard of for a princess to consort with a slave. Even soldiers were supposed to be forbidden, although neither she nor Calema paid much heed to that particular ruling. Mo
st of the palace garrison had succumbed to one or both of them at some time or other.

  Sahria had struggled with the Nubians, and scratched and gouged their flesh with her fingernails, but when they removed their loincloths and revealed their magnificent manhoods she relaxed at once and offered herself to them.

  She began to think of how they had used and abused her. It was wonderfully satisfying, the sort of sexual experience she’d been missing. It had always been her who had taken the lead and issued the orders, but then she found herself at the mercy of these two burly hulks.

  They fucked her in turn and then, incredibly, they both fed their erections into her cunt simultaneously, stretching her flesh to the limit. Her pussy throbbed as she remembered the delightful pain as the two men thrust in and out of her and how, despite her fear and anger at the time, she had come over and over again.

  ‘The girls will be returning soon,’ said Calema, breaking Sahria’s train of thought. ‘What do you think of them?’

  ‘They are all very lovely. I am sure the prince will be very pleased.’

  ‘Are you jealous?’

  ‘No, of course not.’ Sahria stroked between her legs nonchalantly. ‘Once I had savoured the prince’s wonderful cock, all such thoughts were dismissed from my mind. Now it is my pleasure to serve him in any way he chooses.’

  Calema looked incredulously at her friend. It was clear that she didn’t believe a word.

  The door to the chamber opened slowly, and Calema and Sahria looked up expectantly. Instead of the return of their pupils, however, two other girls entered. After a moment Sahria recognised them as the same two the prince had taken to his bedchamber. They looked weary and bedraggled and their short smocks were torn.

  ‘Princess Sahria?’ asked one, a delicately framed girl with short brown hair and a pale complexion.