Prisoner
of the Seraglio
A
Cordelia Delacourt Adventure
Chapter
6 The
Bey
Abdul Ali Mustapha, bey of the almost forgotten desert outpost of Timbuctou, stroked his forked beard and stared at the sun as it set over the mud walls of the city, temporarily turning them almost as red as blood. Evening would soon be upon the city and with it an event he had been looking forward to since early afternoon.
The English girl was exquisite and well worth the wait. He had been most angry to learn that DesLaurier had lost her. He had long desired the acquisition of an aristocratic English maiden for his harem and he had leapt at the chance to buy her when she was offered. It would be a rare treat to have as his courtesan a member of the race that considered themselves superior to all others. English women had a reputation for being somewhat headstrong and assertive rather than properly docile and submissive, but he had no doubt he could tame her. After all, she was completely within his power. He turned to one of his waiting servants. “Send for the English girl. I will receive her in my sleeping quarters.”
Cordelia’s legs were so rubbery that she feared she would fall as she was escorted by Farizah and Hazar through the hallways connecting the residence of the bey with his harem. Not surprisingly the distance was not far, being merely as short passage, but to Cordelia every step seemed a journey. Each foot felt as if it was encased in lead rather than her silken slippers.
Her two escorts stopped just before the doorway to the bey’s apartments. “Remember your place,” Farizah cautioned. “It would not do to anger your master.”
Trembling, Cordelia stepped into the room. Lounging on a large divan covered with cushions was a swarthy bearded man of about forty. He was flanked by a pair of guards every bit as large as those who guarded the entrance to the harem. Two young girls stood next to him, moving the air with large palm-leaf fans. Immediately Farizah and Hazar prostrated themselves before him.
Frightened almost out of her wits, Cordelia didn’t know what to do. After an interval that seemed to stretch into an eternity she went to her knees, realizing that it was already too late to correct so obvious an error.
The bey raised a quizzical eyebrow, a slight smile playing about his lips. “Rise child,” he said, gesturing toward her. I understand you speak a little of our language.”
“A very little, my lord,” Cordelia stammered a bit taken aback by the sympathetic tone of the bey’s voice.
Farizah and Hazar, now aware of Cordelia’s indiscretion stared at her in horror from their position on the floor, but the bey seemed not to care. “Leave us,” he commanded.
“Come my child, sit by me. The bey motioned to a pile of cushions next to him. Cordelia tried to rise, but found her legs would not move.
“Help her,” the bey commanded, calling back Farizah and Hazar.
The two women scrambled to do his bidding, taking Cordelia under the arms and guiding her toward the divan. They set her down among the cushions and then left as the bey waved them away.
“My child,” the bey said, “there is no need to fear me. I intend you no harm.”
“No,” Cordelia thought. “You only mean to forcibly take my maidenhood.” However, she said nothing and at the same time sought to fight back her fear.
The bey’s calm demeanor helped to soothe her. Her heart still beating like a rabbit’s, she settled down beside him and tried not to think about the fact that she was dressed in a manner that would have been shameful for any Englishwoman.
“Are you hungry, my child?” the bey asked. He indicated with his hand a tray of sweetmeats and other delicacies. “Please eat; I understand that the excitement of the day stole your appetite.”
The fact that this statement confirmed Cordelia’s suspicions that the bey had spent much of the day watching her did nothing for her nerves, but she picked up a grape and placed it between her lips. The morsel reminded her that she was hungry after all, and she began to eat, as much to keep her mind off her predicament than anything else.
The bey seemed not to mind, watching her eat and actually selecting a few delicacies for her to try. However, it was difficult for Cordelia to forget why she was there, and finally, her hunger satisfied, she worked up the courage to speak.
“My lord, forgive me, but I do not understand your ways. I am a stranger in your land, forcibly separated from my family. I can only ask for your mercy.”
“Mercy?” repeated the bey. “You need no mercy from me.”
“Please, my lord,” Cordelia begged. “Help me return to my father. My disappearance will destroy him.”
“There will be no more talk of leaving my court,” the bey answered his voice suddenly cold. “Is it not clear to you that you now belong to me? I expect my wives to honour my wishes and you are no exception.”
Cordelia realized she had gambled and lost. She had hoped that appealing to the bey as a lost child would stir his sense of compassion, but instead she had merely angered him.
“You are not of this land and therefore not fully aware of our customs,” the bey continued heatedly. “As a result I will overlook this indiscretion, but a further occurrence will lead to severe punishment. Were it not for your youth and beauty I would have you whipped.”
As he finished speaking the bey rose to his feet. “Leave us,” he said to the guards. Without answering the two giants bowed and left the room, leaving Cordelia alone with the man she most feared.
The bey stood looking at her for several long seconds while Cordelia knelt on the divan with eyes lowered. Then taking her hand he raised her from the divan. “I had hoped our first meeting would go better than this,” he said apologetically. “I want you as a woman and a lover. This night is one you will always remember.”
He drew her to him. Cordelia stiffened as his hands moved over her body. She trembled in fear. “My English rose,” he said softly. “It is time for us to be as one.”
His fingers went to the heavy gold chain about her hips and undid the catch. He seemed oblivious to her barely concealed fear, removing the various items of jewellery that draped her body, until finally he pulled her toward him and kissed her nipple through the sheer silk that covered her breasts.
Cordelia gasped. The sensation sent a shiver through her body. She didn’t know whether to submit or fight. But she remembered the bey’s threat of punishment and allowed him to continue to have his way. In a contest between preserving her honour and fear of punishment, fear won out. For all of the fact that the bey was more than twice her age, he was a strongly built man and she but a slender frightened girl. She allowed him to strip her clothing and jewellery from her and then it was too late.
His hands seemed to be everywhere; on her breasts, her back, her buttocks, and finally between her thighs. Cordelia could not suppress a cry of surprise and passion as she felt her lord’s finger part her lower lips. “Oh god,” she thought. “Please let me be brave.”
He was between her thighs, his hard maleness pressing against her heated flesh. Cordelia felt a sensation she had only encountered in her girlish fantasies as his mouth traveled over her body, his lips and tongue seeking out her most sensitive areas.
She clung to him like a child, too frightened to do otherwise, her sweating body locked to his in an embrace that was half passion and half submission. She whimpered as he entered her. There was a sharp, intense pain. She cried out, her voice expressing the physical and mental anguish of her lost virginity. She wept both from the pain and the humiliation of her forced surrender and then she dug her fingers into the back of the man inside her as a strange fervour mounted within her.
It began as a tiny sensation that slowly mounted in strength until it filled her loins with an intensity that increased beyond her ability to control it. She arched her back and opened her mouth in a strangled cry of passion and then it burst from her, ripping through her body with the force of an explosion.
“Oh! Ohh! Ohhh!” The cry burst from her lips unbidden as the bey took her to the peak of ecstasy and held her on the cusp of pleasure and pain until her body quivered from sheer excitement and exhaustion. She fell back, barely able to move while the bey continued his lovemaking, until with a groan he too found sexual release.
Cordelia lay panting in the tropical heat and then suddenly realized that the two girls with the fans were still there, mute witnesses to her deflowering. Cordelia was suddenly overwhelmed by remorse. She had not intended to willingly submit to the bey, but when the time had come she had meekly let him have his way. Not only that, but toward the end she had been a willing participant. The sense of guilt was almost stifling. It was only with difficulty that she was able to fight back the tears that came unbidden.
The bey took her in his arms. “You are now a woman,” he whispered as he gently stroked her back. “There is no shame attached to what we have just done. You are a member of my harem and you have fulfilled your duty.”
“Duty?” thought Cordelia. “Is that what it was?” She had given up her virginity without a struggle, too fearful of punishment to offer the least resistance. She knew that if she had resisted the bey would simply have raped her, but that did not make it any better. The feeling of shame was almost overwhelming and she had to fight hard not to add to her misery by breaking down in front of the bey.
Completely drained, she lay in the bey’s arms while he held her like a child who has fled to her father during a violent thunderstorm, and in that position sleep finally came to her.
They made love one more time, just before morning. This time the lovemaking lacked the intensity and passion of the first time. Cordelia was shown a different form of love as the bey took his time and enjoyed her slowly and gently. Then, as the sun edged over the horizon, Cordelia was taken back to the harem.
The next hour was almost as trying as her night with the bey. Every girl in the harem swarmed about her, bombarding her with questions and attempting to learn the most intimate details of her experience. She was finally saved by Farizah who came into the room, apparently alerted by the excited chirping of a dozen young women.
“Get away from her,” the older woman ordered. “Don’t you remember your first experience? The girl is exhausted. Attend to your own affairs and let her sleep.”
With Hazar’s help Farizah shooed the girls from the room, banishing them to the pool, and then led Cordelia to the place that had been set aside as her sleeping area. “Sleep child,” Farizah said. “We will attend to you when you awake.”
Cordelia needed no further urging. Barely able to stand, she settled among the cushions and was almost instantly asleep.
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