Chapter 7: New concubine

As instructed, I pay a visit to the Divine Harem’s magnificent baths before being escorted back to the castle. Zurab hands me over to Aybige, Lord Giorgi’s personal scribe and assistant. She is dressed in a slave tunic similar to those the other slaves around the castle wear. Zurab and Aybige escort me to a room on an upper level of the castle’s west tower.

“This is one of the rooms reserved as living quarters for Lord Giorgi’s favourite concubines,” says Aybige. “And this is Reyna. Reyna, meet Rachael. She’s been sent to replace Maia.”

Aybige doesn’t realise that Reyna and I already know each other. Nevertheless, we greet each other as though we are strangers. At least it seems as though Reyna and I will no longer be kept in the dungeon. While we both wear slave collars, we are otherwise free of restraints.

“Rachael is to join you as one of Lord Giorgi’s concubines,” says Zurab addressing Reyna. “Maia proved to be unsatisfactory. Let us hope for both your sakes that Rachael can do better. You are expected to perform an important service for Lord Giorgi. He is ruler of Bolnisi, and he needs to learn how to dominate his manly possessions. Do you both understand what I mean?”

“We are expected to teach the Lord how to get pleasure from intercourse with a woman,” I reply.

“I think he already knows how to do that,” laughs Zurab as he leaves us in Aybige’s care. “But he is inexperienced, and he seems to lack a good technique. His skills need to be refined. You must provide what is necessary to ensure the Lord’s skills in that area are properly developed.”

Reyna winces. It’s as though Zurab’s words have triggered an unpleasant memory and a sudden flash of nerves. After she had refused to marry Giorgi, Reyna never anticipated being forced into being his slave concubine. Initially she had been confined to her own rooms in the castle, but she was later transferred to the dungeon. Subsequently she was moved to live in the Divine Harem at the monks’ monastery. While the grey monks’ sexual tastes can be unsavoury, they pale into insignificance to Lord Giorgi’s lustful perversions.

When I was growing up, I lived in my father’s caravanserai at Wadi Halaf along with my half-brothers and half-sisters. All of us were my father’s slaves, along with our concubine mothers. Entertaining randy and needful caravan merchants and mercenary guards was a part of our everyday life. The visitors never fucked me until I was old enough, but that was only after years of yearning to participate what seemed to be a joyful experience.

Until my manumission, I had never slept in a room that wasn’t shared with someone else. Consequently I’ve been very familiar with the male anatomy for many years. Despite my tender age, I was a willing participant to the strange games that visitors played, which caused funny feelings deep inside me. Pleasurable feelings. So much so, that I initiated some of the games just to experience those feelings once again. But we were careful not to go too far. Nevertheless it was nothing short of a miracle that I remained a virgin for so many years.

In addition to entertaining guests, I did a lot of the fetching and carrying. Activities which developed my muscles until I could out-wrestle most boys my age. When I matured into an adult, my strength meant I was given some of the many heavy carrying tasks around Wadi Halaf. My muscles aren’t as bulging as they once were, but they are still more developed than those of the other harem women. Given my physical attributes, I’m puzzled by my selection as Lord Giorgi’s concubine. While I long for my freedom, the prospect of sex excites me. Until now, I hadn’t realised how much I’ve missed the intimate games I used to play with the visitors to Wadi Halaf. My thighs are tingling and the faint odour of arousal is in danger of distracting me.

“You must wait in this room when Lord Giorgi doesn’t require your services,” says Aybige. “Be ready at all times in case Lord Giorgi calls for you. I will have a couple of suitable dresses sent up for you to use until you can arrange for some of your own.”

Aybige leaves Reyna and me alone in our room. We stand looking at each other for a few moments before one of us speaks.

“Welcome to Hell,” says Reyna. “You can have the bed by the window, and the chest over there for your things.”

“Why do you call it Hell?” I ask. “And what happened to Maia?”

“I don’t know what happened to Maia. None of the concubines do. She could have been sold or transferred but I think she’s probably dead. She complained too loudly, so let’s take that as a warning. The devil Lord is the ruler of our private Hell, and you and I are now one of his playthings. Perhaps Maia is the luckiest of the three of us.”

At first I think that Reyna is joking and having fun at my expense. But Reyna’s expression, and the heavy make-up over what could be bruises, warns me that Reyna is perhaps being serious.

“Do you think Lord Giorgi killed Maia?” asks Rachael.

“It’s possible. If he did, he wouldn’t be the first Lord to kill a slave girl. But he enjoyed Maia’s fear of him too much to simply kill her. Her terror drove him wild with lust. Unfortunately our devil Lord feeds on such emotions, and he doesn’t know when to stop. I suppose he could have killed her by accident, but the last time I saw Maia was when she was going to meet with Tamaz.”

Our conversation is interrupted by Aybige arriving with some clothes for me. I promptly change into one of the gowns and tidy my hair. I admire myself in the mirror. I feel a sense of beauty I’ve only occasionally experienced before. However, when I compare myself to Reyna, I silently admit that I will have difficulty in competing with the Reyna’s natural grace and attractiveness.

But looks aren’t everything. I’ve experienced enough of harem life to understand the value of intelligence and affability. Both are attributes which I’ve learned to use to good effect. Despite our unequal relationship at the Halls of Valhalla, Reyna looks as though she’s in need of a close friend, and I’m going to need help in adapting to my new role. Our shared circumstances mean that we should strive to be allies rather than rivals.