Their Lives as Harem Slaves

by Peter King

  “I will make you an offer slave. If you can come from pain, like your slutty daughters, then I will believe your boast. So you may come if you like, once the current is turned on, is that fair slave?”

  Samihah knew what would happen now as she replied, “Yes Master,” her libido in hyper drive, waiting for the stimulus to push her over the edge. She barely winced when he removed one clip, and let out a small squeal when the new one immediately replaced it. After swapping one set of clamps, he moved to her other tit and switched that side too. Now her pussy and tits were wired and ready to give her the pain she craved.

  He sat on the stool and set the box on his lap, smiling at the hanging woman. She smiled back at him, her masochism matching his sadism step for step down this path of depravity. It was like an old west gunfight; two gunslingers ready to face off against each other. But the rules were different because instead of life or death, this contest was about wills. He had challenged her to take his pain and transform it into pleasure and she was determined to meet that challenge.

  “Ready to play slave?” he said, his fingers gripping the controls on the box.

  She simply nodded, her eyes glassy and distant, preparing herself for intense pain. He knew what she was doing so he whipped the control to full blast for a few seconds and then turned it off suddenly. She lurched in her chains, making them rattle, and she gurgled like she was being strangled, while her body took the massive jolt. There was no orgasm, only stifling pain, her nipples and sex feeling like a mule kicked them.

  Then he turned them on lightly, sending a small steady current through her body. This made her tense up and hiss as she breathed, the current dancing over her nerves like angry ants. She shuddered and gyrated in her bondage, her muscles acting with a mind of their own. He slowly turned the current up, and her body started to quake uncontrollably. It felt like her bones were rattling now, and a strange pain infused her, not swift, but insidious.

  He watched her intently, seeing the retreat in her eyes, as she was drawn into her body to face the sensations engulfing her. He had the current up to fifty percent when moans and small shrieks started to pour from Samihah’s lips, the pain needing a voice now, with no sign of relief coming. And just as her cries started to take on an edge of desperation, he flipped the switches to full current again. Her body went rigid and she was silent for a moment, until a wail of such pitiful agony was torn from her.

  She started to struggle mightily when she regained some control of her tormented body, her mind exploding with staggering pain. He quietly counted under his breath, leaving the power at full, while Samihah screamed in unbearable anguish. When he silently reached twelve he heard her wail, “Thank you Master!” her body flailing in her chains like a dying fish. He then shut down the machine, and in a few minutes Samihah started to calm down. With only some minor twitching of muscles while she hung there limply.

  Her mind was nearly gone, since she just endured the worst pain she ever felt, but she also had the most intense climax of her life. As she hung there she felt like she was floating in space, disconnected from her battered body. The aches and pains that were exacerbated by her wild gyrations were there plaguing her mind, but the afterglow of the orgasm far overshadowed it. She had been transported to the depths of her masochism and emerged sexually satiated.

  It was not unnoticed by Herr Schmidt, who turned and looked up at one of the Sheik’s cameras. He then said, “Old man do you know what have you found? These sluts are exquisite, such natural pain sluts, was it a lucky happenstance? No matter, you may collect her now, but I will require their services again, and you know they need my brand of dominance.”

  The Sheik watched as Schmidt started to release Samihah, even before he could order his guards to collect her. He quickly sent the message and then left to meet her in the infirmary with her daughters. As he walked he realized that what Schmidt said had some merit, and his brand of sadism was always entertaining, albeit dangerous. But what he saw in Samihah and her daughters almost demanded he allow Schmidt further sessions with them. It was something to consider at any rate.

  The Sheik also confirmed what he suspected about Samihah. She could manage his harem, but she needed her fair dose of discipline. It was inherent in her soul now; she needed to submit to be herself. It also answered another question he had been pondering for quite some time. Now he had the answer and just had to implement it, but that would take a little time. He did not mind though, now knowing how to fix the problem that faced him.

  He arrived at the infirmary just as his guards were carrying in Samihah, her limp body draped across the arms of one of his guards. He directed them to put her into the empty bed that was between the ones were her daughters now slept. She was groggy, barely conscious, with the balls still stitched into her sex. He stroked her brow and whispered to a guard to fetch the doctor to release her sex.

  Then he bent low to her ear and whispered, “I could love you slave.”

  In her addled mind Samihah heard him, but was not sure if she imagined it. Luckily she fell off to sleep before the doctor came to remove her pussy laces. Her Master remained there until she was totally freed from Schmidt’s machinations, and tucked under the covers to sleep peacefully. He left her knowing what he must do next.

  Chapter 13: The Sheik’s Plan

  When Samihah awoke she felt her whole body aching, but she also realized she was lying under the covers on a soft bed. She opened her eyes and turned her head to the left to see Jadwa lying in a bed next to her, her doe eyes looking directly at her. Then she heard a small sigh on her other side and turned her head to see her other girl, Jada, staring back at her too. They all were lying on beds in what she knew was the infirmary. She had become acquainted with this part of the palace in her new position, a place where injured slaves were brought to recover from harsh sessions with clients…or the Sheik.

  Samihah then said, “Show me your breasts girls.” Prompting her daughters to lower the covers that were covering them up to their necks.

  They pulled down the sheets and Samihah, looking back and forth between them, saw that they still bore the marks of their recent travail. The rope marks at the roots of their breasts were still visible, now marked by bruises encircling the meaty globes. Otherwise they looked fine, their natural color replacing the ugly purple hue she last saw when the sisters were removed from her presence.

  She tried to sit up, but her body protested mightily, every muscle aching from her own torture. While looking straight up at the ceiling, she asked, “How do they feel slaves?”

  In harmony, sounding as if they rehearsed it they said, “Sore and tender Mistress.”

  “As this slave suspected, you may rest now, it seems these three slaves are relegated to these beds until their Master deems them recovered.”

  The trio said nothing after that, all of them returning to their needed slumber, now relaxed by the knowledge they had all endured Herr Schmidt’s attentions and survived. The Sheik kept them there for three days, but scheduled no other sessions for them for the next two weeks until their bodies healed properly. As he billed Schmidt for recovery time too, it did not impact their ability to serve him and still generate the revenue he expected.

  Upon release from the infirmary and before returning to their daily duties, the Sheik had all three brought to his office. They knelt before his desk, with Samihah in the middle, bracketed by her daughters. He was not there when they arrived, but all three slaves were eager to see him. Samihah wanted to see her true Master again, languishing in the infirmary without a visit, hoping he would have come to see her. The girls had yet to have an audience with him since that first day, and were now eager to be in their new owner’s presence, now more confident since they knew they had served clients to his satisfaction.

  Eventually he arrived, resplendent in his flowing robes. He took his seat behind his desk and stared at his family of slaves, all of them demurely keeping their eyes cast down at the floor where they knelt. He could see t
he marks of the client’s sessions fading from their bodies and smiled at the thought of what would come in the future. Already word had spread among his client list; Schmidt’s desire to talk about what he discovered causing others to want to sample these splendid slaves. The Sheik saw a rapid return on his investment in them coming from all the bookings that were being made.

  After making them wait a few minutes he said, “Look up at me slaves.”

  They instantly obeyed, the girls looking at him with awe and wonder, and his sweet Samihah staring at him with utter devotion and love in her eyes. After witnessing her session with Schmidt he felt a new attachment to her, eager to have her assume the role he now had in mind for her. But he tempered his eagerness with pragmatism, and held his budding feelings for her in check.

  ”Slaves Jada and Jadwa,” the Sheik intoned, staring at them intently, “having observed both sessions you had with my clients I wish you to know that you have pleased me. You have the potential to be exceptional slaves in my harem, but you still have much to learn. You will return to the harem room now and find your mentors, they will resume your training.”

  “Yes Master, thank you Master,” they replied with enthusiasm before rising and leaving Samihah alone with the Sheik.

  When they were gone he said, “I have made them a shared commodity, clients can only book them as a pair, or with you as a trio. And for you sweet slave, one that clearly needs her dose of pain, I have put a price on your services that will allow only my wealthiest clients to sample your exceptional talents. This will reduce the amount of clients you will service, but I fully intend to satiate your need for pain and punishment myself. Now return to your office, poor Nashita has been buried with work while you recovered.”

  “Yes Master, thank you Master!” she exclaimed, her heart soaring with joy! Having endured her indoctrination into the harem, and having faced such cruel punishments from her Master and in Herr Schmidt’s hands, she now felt safe and secure in her role here. She had found her place in life, and with her Master’s obvious pleasure with her performance, she happily returned to her duties.

  Days passed into weeks and then into months, as Samihah and her girls became inured into their new roles. They served in the daily functions of the harem and hosted many clients in diverse forms of torture and suffering. All of it fed their deeply submissive souls, transforming them into the most prized of the Sheik’s slaves, ones that truly reveled in what they were…human chattel. Samihah learned how to manage from Nashita, even though their relationship seemed cool and aloof after Samihah’s sessions with the Sheik and Herr Schmidt.

  Samihah wondered at Nashita’s disposition, but never ventured to pursue it, too consumed by her responsibilities to find the time to explore it. True to his word, Samihah found her submissive desires fed on a regular basis, sometimes with extremely cruel and wealthy clients, but more often with her Master, the Sheik. Her love for him grew daily, even though he never said a thing about it, simply using her much like her clients did. But it did not matter to her, she was his slave and her expectations from him were naught, serving him with love and devotion with no expectation of his reciprocation. The fact that he kept her submissive needs well fed, either with clients or alone with him, made her new life an ongoing erotic adventure.

  Eventually Samihah became proficient in every aspect of running the harem, and that seemed to escalate the demeanor of aloofness she felt with her partner. She often consider approaching Nashita about it, but felt that if she wanted to tell her what was bothering her she would do it when she was ready. So she respected her sister slave’s privacy and focused on her duties, which were many these days.

  The girls, thanks to their hormone treatments, found themselves guests at the milking barn a few weeks after their session with Herr Schmidt. The Sheik started to drain their udders weekly, keeping their milk for his personal use. And they in turn, shuddered and climaxed often with the machines ravaging their pussies during the milking sessions. The result over the next few months was the enlargement of their breasts two full cup sizes. This added value to them and coupled with their ever-increasing submissive natures continued to keep clients coming for their special sisterly services.

  Nearly six months after they arrived at the palace Samihah was preparing herself for a night with her Master. She bathed and washed her luxuriant blonde hair, now so long it nearly reached her buttocks. It was the longest she ever wore it because her Master liked it that way. He made sure that the ends were neatly trimmed, but the length continued to grow. It was now a gorgeous adornment, but it was also a tool used to torment her in many of the sessions she had these days.

  After she prepared herself with perfume and oils, her finest silk pants, and bejeweled slippers, she finally arranged her locks seductively. While the bulk of it cascaded over her bare back, she used the lengths along the sides of her face to obscure her ample breasts. As she gazed into a mirror she felt sexy and hot, her blonde tresses barely concealing her heaving breasts, just enough to make them even more alluring. Once satisfied with her appearance she padded off to service her Master, ready for another cruel and sadistic session with him.

  When she arrived at his bedchamber she knocked on the door, eager and ready to submit to the lord of her universe. Even though she had visited him many times in the past several months, each meeting made her hot and horny, even before it started. Tonight was no different and her sex pulsed with anticipation as she waited for his command to enter the room, loving the rush she felt hearing his commanding voice.

  But tonight, instead of calling her in, he opened the door and stepped out of his bedchamber. He said, “Follow me Samihah, I have a surprise waiting for you.”

  He led her down through the palace proper and deep into the dungeon below, making his slave anxious that she might have offended him in some way. This led her to think that she was being taken below for a harsher punishment than his bedchamber could accommodate, though she knew many a session where he made her shriek in utter agony there. They soon came to a large wooden door and he stopped to look at her.

  “It is not often a Master admits to an error with one of his slaves, but in this instance I want you to know that I have made one.” Seeing the concern and fear in her eyes at the thought of displeasing him in some way, he further said, “You may relax Samihah, I made no mistakes with you so far and you have performed splendidly as an addition to my harem. The mistake I made was with Nashita. Behind this door she awaits us, she has been informed of my error…and hers. Tonight we will start to rectify the problem. Once we enter the room listen carefully and do only as I instruct, is that clear?”

  “Yes Master,” Samihah replied, wondering what it was Nashita had done. She wondered if it had to do with her recent disposition, or maybe her failure was the cause of it. But as they entered the room she simply obeyed her Master’s order, prepared to accept whatever he had in mind for both of them.

  He opened the door and led her through, closing it behind them once inside the dimly lit room. In front of her, directly in the center of the room, Samihah saw her sister/slave/mistress. Her head hung low to her chest, her face pointing toward the floor with their entrance not prompting her to look up at them. Samihah knew she would remain with her eyes cast down until the Sheik ordered otherwise, and given the state of her body, she thought she might even be unconscious.

  A narrow metal rod ran across the back of her shoulders connected at both ends to thick wooden uprights by her sides. Her arms were pulled behind her and over the bar, wedging it into her armpits, with her wrists pulled forward and cuffed together just below her breasts. This position was stressful enough itself, but given that her ankles were manacled to chains attached to the uprights and stretched out wide toward them with her feet hanging above the floor, it was ruthless. Her body was covered by angry red welts, from the bottoms of her feet to the tops of her tits, and she was bathed in the sheen of perspiration.

  As the Sheik led Samihah up to where Nashita hung
tautly, she remembered meeting her for the first time, so abrupt and dominant with her and the girls. She looked so different know, thoroughly subjugated and clearly in severe pain. It also dawned on her that this was the first time she ever saw Nashita made to submit in any way other than a mild verbal reprimand. Perhaps that was the mistake the Sheik made? She wondered.

  When they came within a foot of her they stopped, and the Sheik said, “Face us Nashita.”

  She lifted her head and Samihah saw they look of utter defeat, there was no light left in Nashita’s listless gaze. What had they done to her? Had she been so removed from physical punishment as the harem Mistress that this simple torture so thoroughly cowed her?

  Then the Sheik said, “Tell her what you did wrong slave.”

  With fresh tears forming in her eyes, Nashita looked at Samihah and said, “I watched a recording of you and our Master in a private moment. To do this I snuck into a forbidden place to do a illicit thing, acting with my own desire. And against you, through no fault of your own, I then became jealous. I now beg you to train me to be a proper slave again, so I may atone for what I have done.”

  Samihah stared at her, totally shocked. Had she seen that night when she professed her love to the Sheik? Had she stolen that private moment? The look on the stricken woman’s face was telling her it was, what other reason to be jealous? No wonder she was so aloof, it all made sense now and she was angry with her sister. She was petty and deserved to pay for it.

  But remembering what the Sheik said to her, she asked, “What do you want this slave to do Master?”

  “You will remind Nashita what it means to be a slave, first with your personal punishment. I have assembled an array of implements you may want to use along the back wall,” the Sheik aid, gesturing to a table littered with implements of pain and restraint. “I will watch and when you are done with her I will take you back to my chambers for what you need. That was my mistake with this one, I allowed her to forget what it feels like to be my slave. Now, like you, she will be properly disciplined.”