Chapter 8: A rebellious concubine

I know that any slave who did what I have just done should be promptly locked in a cell to await delivery of her punishment. The traditional punishment for disobedience is for a slave’s ankles to be bound to low bar and the soles of her feet caned by one of the harem guards. It’s a very painful punishment, but one which leaves few visible marks. But Giorgi is so confused by my outburst that he doesn’t know what to do. He has simply not been trained in how to manage a rebellious concubine. His inexperience gives me a chance.

“What makes you think that you’ve the right to order me around like that?” fumes Giorgi as he stands face to face with me.

He’s close enough to strike me and I stand ready to react if he does. I don’t bow my head as a contrite slave concubine should do. In my opinion, that would only invite him to hit me and make matters worse.

“The grey monks have gifted Reyna and me for the express purpose of educating you in the art of lovemaking and to provide you with heirs,” I reply. “We cannot do that if you keep beating and humiliating us.”

My words cause Giorgi to pause for a moment.

“I have every right to punish both of you for appearing before me dressed like you are,” replies Giorgi. “You know the standard of dress that is required when a concubine is summoned to appear before me.”

“I agree that Reyna and I aren’t dressed in accordance with your rules. But if that mattered to you, then you should have given us more time to prepare. You saw us in the garden just now,” I say, noticing the view from the window and making an inspired guess. “You knew that we couldn’t change and present ourselves here properly attired in the time you allowed us. You have set us up to fail.”

“I will not have a slave tell me what I may or may not do,” snorts Giorgi, deciding that he had better try to exert some authority over this situation.

“If you must punish someone, then punish me,” I reply. “I was the one who persuaded Reyna to take a walk in the garden. Blame me if you will, but I did it for the best of motives. Reyna is a beautiful woman of noble birth, who has recently been trained to the highest standard in the arts of love and seduction. You have mauled her as though she’s a backstreet whore. If you treat Reyna gently, then she will please you beyond your wildest imagination.”

“I don’t feel like being gentle,” says Giorgi. “I’m a warrior, and a warrior doesn’t need to ask for permission from a slave before he slakes his lust on her body.”

“Think of Reyna as your lover rather than your slave. If you want to be rough during sex, then I will be a more suitable partner. As you can see, I’m not a delicate flower like Reyna and the other women of your court.”

“Hmmm. I shall consider what you have said. But you must be punished for your outburst.”

“If you insist, my Lord,” I reply, trying and failing to sound submissive.

Giorgi is suddenly unsure about what punishment would be appropriate. He could strike me as he had done with Reyna, but he rightly doubts that would cause me to mend my ways. It might even appear as though I have gained a moral victory. Besides, he perhaps realises that I might block his blow and leave us both at an impasse. A physical tussle with me would be embarrassing and beneath his dignity. Giorgi is confident that he would win such a fight, but it would be unbecoming for a Lord to wrestle with a slave concubine. If I was a male slave, and this room was the soldiers’ training ground, then there would be no problem. It’s well known that Giorgi frequently wrestles with the slave-soldiers when he is training.

“You are a virgin, I presume,” says Giorgi.

“I am, my Lord,” I lie, as I’ve been instructed to do by Tamaz and Zurab.

“You’ll not be leaving this room as one,” replies Giorgi, trying to sound menacing, but only succeeding in making me smile.

“Is that my punishment?” I ask. “You intend to deflower me for my crimes?”

“No. Your punishment comes later. But you will understand who is your master before you receive your punishment.”

I don’t know whether to laugh or to be serious. Giorgi’s attempts to appear as the mighty overlord ruling my life are not very convincing. He’s too young and lanky to be physically intimidating. What’s more, he’s too accustomed to resorting to violence when he wants to get his way. For that reason, I decide against ridiculing him in case he resorts to violence once again. He needs training and that is precisely what I intend to do.

“I don’t dispute that you are my lord and master, my Lord,” I say. “I am merely trying to be a loyal slave. If it is your wish to deflower me here and now, then you will find me willing to play my part. Shall I lie on the bed so that you may mount me more easily? Or do you prefer to chase me around the room first?”

Giorgi is taken aback. Reyna said that Giorgi’s sexual encounters with Reyna and Maia were relatively few in number. Nevertheless he has always taken the lead. Indeed, he expects some resistance from the woman he is about to possess. Resistance that will drive his lust to a more satisfying level; at least for him. For the first time he is facing a concubine who isn’t cowering before him.

“I’m a warrior,” announces Giorgi. “If you try to resist me, then I will take you by force.”

I think about what Giorgi has said. I have already offered to lie on the bed ready for his attentions. So why did he say what he did? Then I remember that I played a similar sort of game with some of the visitors to my father’s caravanserai. Some of those men also liked to be the dominant player in their games. The trick was to resist just enough to satisfy the man’s need to control me, but no so much that he became too rough in response. Would Giorgi react in the same way? I know there is only one way to find out.