The Captive Flesh (8 page)

Leyla called after her. Her voice sounded rough, as if she was suppressing some strong emotion.

‘You have entered the harem of Kasim Dey – administrator of the pashalic of Algeria. He is a rich and powerful man. You cannot say him nay. No one escapes from here. It is useless to struggle. Best that you accept your fate, as I have. Only the most beautiful women reside here. You are honoured that Kasim chose you. Bow to kismet, Marietta – as we all must do.'

Marietta was speechless, unable to encompass this information. She saw now what an innocent fool she had been. Claudine and she were not Kasim's honoured guests at all. It all became clear to her. Kasim was a lover of beautiful things, a patron of the arts, and a collector. He had told her so himself, but she had not understood.

She did now.

Claudine and herself were Kasim's latest acquisitions.

In the garden, lamps glowed softly.

Lemon trees cast nets of shadows over pots of roses and lilies. Peacocks strutted around the fountains, pecking at seed which the women scattered for them. Marietta closed her eyes, listening to the sound of harp music floating out from an open window somewhere above. Nightingales in gilded cages gave out their sweet songs.

It was so peaceful, so lovely, but she could think of nothing but Kasim and the way he had duped Claudine and herself. She sat tensely on a pile of cushions. Waiting.

There was a sense of contained excitement all around her. The word had passed around that Kasim would be visiting the harem that evening. He had apparently not been too keen to do so of late.

‘It is the presence of you and Claudine that draws him here. He is like a moth to your flame,' said Leyla. ‘The other women are glad you are here, though you may become rivals. They think that if Kasim visits, he might notice one of them and bestow his favours on her.'

Marietta did not reply, only nodding her head a little stiffly, then felt churlish when Leyla smiled hesitantly. It was not Leyla she was angry with. It was Kasim, and herself. Leyla looked beautiful in dark-green velvet. A lighter green veil covered her long black hair, which hung loosely in thick shining waves to her hips. Her
black eyes sought Marietta's face often, their expression pleading for forgiveness. Marietta avoided Leyla's gaze. Though gradually she felt herself soften, she kept her chin up, her head erect, and gave no sign that she intended to speak to Leyla ever again.

Leyla pressed her hands together in her lap.

Her lovely face was anguished. Now and then she glanced across the room at Marietta, who was sitting so stiffly upright, a look of fury on her face. The scorn in the wide blue eyes hurt her. It saddened Leyla that Marietta thought her guilty of manipulating her. True, she knew that Kasim had lured the young women to the harem. No one but a slave, purchased from a trader, came willingly to a life of confinement – and even some slaves were not willing. She shuddered remembering …

One day she would tell Marietta her story, if Marietta ever forgave her.

She had been drawn to Marietta for her own reasons. At first she had felt pity for the lovely young woman. She knew that it would be a shock when she discovered that she would never leave this place. The other woman, Claudine, would not find it so difficult. But Marietta would find the path to obedience long and painful.

Leyla saw an echo of a younger, more innocent, self in Marietta. That was why she thought to befriend her, show her how things were done, ease the way forward for her. So that she would accept her new life with the least amount of mental anguish. That was all she
meant
to do.

But when Marietta disrobed, Leyla had been torn by a raging desire to explore her flawless body, so unique with its pale colouring. She wanted to arouse the
passions in that cool smooth flesh. But it had all gone wrong. Marietta thought she was Kasim's creature – and in a way it was true – but that was not why she had pleasured Marietta.

The truth was that she was already half in love with the French woman.

Leyla clenched her fingers and pressed her lips together, watching Marietta from the tail of her eye. Unable to stop looking at her – so breathtaking even in the ugly and constricting French gown that she still insisted on wearing.

Claudine rested on a pile of cushions, nibbling sweetmeats. She sucked her sticky fingers, paying great attention to cleaning them one by one.

Marietta felt mildly exasperated. She had expected her friend to be furious with Kasim, to be waiting to challenge him, as she was. But Claudine looked composed and relaxed, perfectly at ease.

It was late when Kasim arrived. Many of the women had grown bored. They were slumped in untidy postures, their clothes crumpled and disarrayed. At Kasim's appearance there was a flurry of activity.

He strode across the tiled courtyard, looking magnificent in robes of mulberry velvet. In one hand he held a fine gold chain and in the other a pliable leather switch. In his wake, attached to the chain by a neck ring, trotted a naked woman. Her face was flushed and tear-streaked. Lash marks were visible on the skin of her belly and thighs.

The harem women ran to meet Kasim, fluttering their hands and smiling, falling over each other to speak words of welcome. They ignored the chained woman who, coming to a halt, stood with her head bowed.

Marietta hid her shock and remained seated, waiting as Kasim walked through the crush of women and approached the cushioned dais. He smiled broadly at her as he seated himself.

‘Sit,' he ordered the captive woman, jerking the chain so that she lowered herself to the floor. ‘Not like that. As you have been taught. Legs apart. Must I punish you further?'

She lowered her eyes and did as he told her. Marietta watched in astonishment as she squatted on her haunches, her knees wide apart, facing her and Kasim. Though she kept her chin lowered, her back was straight and her breasts thrust forward. Her flat belly sloped down to muscular thighs, and between them was her plump mound and parted sex, hairless as Leyla's had been. The lips were shockingly red and exposed. There were lash marks between her thighs also.

As Marietta looked at the tender rosy skin, She felt a little shock of excitement.

Kasim eyed the kneeling woman, toying with the chain he still held. ‘Better,' he said, softly. ‘Keep those legs spread. You will not burn the food on the morrow.'

He turned his head and addressed Marietta in a normal conversational tone. ‘You have been made comfortable, I see. Good. And by your angry expression I think you have realised where you are and that you will not be allowed to leave. Did Leyla tell you this?'

The kneeling woman and what her presence signified confused Marietta so that she was slow to reply. Before she could answer, Leyla spoke.

‘Forgive me. My tongue was careless. It … it was at the hammam. I did not mean to … I was distracted by the new lady's beauty.'

Kasim laughed thinly. ‘Understandable. But that is no excuse. You know what to do.'

Leyla bowed her head. Her lovely pale cheeks were flushed. ‘Please, I beg you. Not now. Not in front of—'

Kasim's eyes blazed. ‘You dare to question! That remark will earn you a more severe punishment.'

Leyla bit her lip. She stood up slowly, slanting Marietta a look of pointed distress from under her lashes.

‘Kasim,' Marietta said, finding her tongue. ‘She did nothing wrong. She only told the truth. Was not yours the greater crime? You have made captives of Claudine and myself. We were brought here with lies and empty promises.' As she spoke her temper rose. She rushed on unthinkingly. ‘It is you who are at fault. How do you dare punish Leyla!'

There were gasps from the gathered women. They threw Marietta horrified looks, whispering behind their hands. Kasim's lips tightened. Then he grinned.

‘Lies and empty promises, you say? Hmmm.' He seemed vastly amused. ‘Oh, no. Not empty, my dear Marietta. Never that. All I promised shall come to pass. But what a hypocrite you are. I saw the hunger in your eyes, the knowledge that I found you attractive. Can you say honestly that you expected to be just – a guest?'

She could not meet his eyes. His words were too close to the truth. At that moment she hated him. She could taste the bitterness of it on her tongue. Yet she was still perversely aware of how much she desired him. She determined that she would hold that desire in check. He would never know how much she burned for him. An ember that lust might be, but she would never allow it to become a flame. She lifted her head and found the courage to stare him down.

Kasim looked away first, but the victory was hollow – almost nothing. He had let her win. This time.

A muscle twitched in his cheek. There was an implacable set to his mouth. She saw that there was
nothing to be gained by angering him; neither would he be moved by any appeal to his better nature. He would not let Claudine and herself go. She felt stunned. Impotent. There must be something she could do? She clenched her hands together to stop them trembling. The shock settled in her stomach like a spiked ball.

The naked woman at Kasim's feet shifted her weight. He tugged at the chain, his lean face dark with displeasure. She threw herself forward and kissed the hem of his robe, raising her naked buttocks in the air. He pushed her away with the toe of his boot. The movement jolted Marietta back to the present.

What would he do to Leyla?

‘Will you not forgive Leyla?' she said after a moment, trying to make her voice sound calm and reasonable.

Kasim laughed delightedly, ‘How refreshing you are. So wilful. Different indeed to most of these women who were bred to harem life. You are angry with me, very angry, though you hide it well. Yet you seek to protect Leyla.' He laughed again, huskily. ‘She will not thank you for that. Though this, and much else, you shall learn. But learn this one thing at once, it will serve you well to heed it: there is never any way to avoid my will.'

Though he smiled, his eyes were hard as jet. She sensed again, as she had on board ship, that he was completely ruthless. The shadow inside her responded to that knowledge. Kasim was a dark jewel and she knew that if she were to look into a single facet of his personality, she would see part of herself reflected there. The flash of insight blinded her. She felt as if she was standing outside herself, watching everything from a new and more acute perspective.

Kasim turned his attention back to Leyla, who had been disrobing as they spoke. Her head was bent, but
the deep flush of shame was evident on her slim neck. The green velvet lay in a heap on the floor. Now she wore only thin silk trousers and a transparent shirt reaching to her knees. The dark-red nipples made little peaks in the thin fabric.

‘All of it,' Kasim said pleasantly.

No one spoke. Everyone watched Leyla. Soon she stood naked, covered only by her hair.

‘Come close,' Kasim said gently.

Trembling she approached him and threw herself at his feet. She clasped the toe of his boot and pressed kisses to it. Almost lazily he wrapped his hand in her long hair, twisting the night-black waves into a rope, pulling her up into a kneeling position. Without being asked to, she spread her knees wide and arched her back. Her buttocks flared from her narrow waist, forming a perfect heart shape.

She made a sound, partway between a murmur of entreaty and a groan.

Kasim grinned, his eyes looked soft, moist. ‘Good, Leyla. You assume the position of willing submission. But it will not save you. Ask me,' he whispered.

Leyla swallowed. Her throat was taut, stretched by Kasim's grip on her hair. Her voice was muffled, husky.

‘Please. Not that. Oh, please,' she said.

Kasim raised the switch and ran the tip of it across her breast, toying with each nipple in turn. Leyla twitched like a skittish mare. He ran the notched tip down over her belly and gave a playful tap on each of her thighs.

‘Where shall I begin? Tell me,' he said, bending close to Leyla and kissing the tip of her straight nose.

She did not answer. He laughed again.

‘Then I shall decide.' He loosed her hair. ‘Make the bow.'

Leyla flashed an agonised glance around, but plainly she dared not refuse. Her dark eyes were clouded by shame. The women watching leaned close as Leyla lay flat on the floor. They seemed to know what was about to happen. Marietta realised that this was not an unusual event. The thought caused her heart to quicken. She was bound by fascination, too filled with conflicting emotions to look away. But she could not suppress a little cry when she saw the position Leyla assumed. Her hands were one to either side of her head, palms flat on the floor. Her arms stretched taut to take her weight. Her feet were planted apart and her body was bent over at her backbone so that she presented herself belly up. Her long dark hair plumed out behind her, sweeping across the tiled floor. The bow, indeed.

Marietta was horrified. In that position Leyla's sex was thrust uppermost, looking exposed and vulnerable. The naked pubic lips were slightly parted, pouting and enticing. Marietta recalled the feel of those flesh-lips when they had been thickened by desire and slick with pleasure juice.

Kasim drew in his breath. He walked slowly over to Leyla, slapping the switch against his high leather boots. He stood between her parted knees, looking down on her lovely body, the fine skin stretched tautly over the toned flesh and muscle.

‘Beautiful you are, my Leyla,' he crooned. ‘Your supple dancer's body shall soon feel the caress of my lash. Do you crave the heat, the smart of it?'

He laid one hand lightly on her stomach, then moved up to pinch a rosy nipple. He laid two fingers in the flattened indentation of her throat, where a pulse was beating rapidly.

‘This is obedience,' he said to Marietta over his
shoulder. ‘Wherever they are, whoever is present, it is what I require from every one of these women. They yearn to serve me, Marietta. Yes, I see your doubt. This is abhorrent to you, this – servitude. But it is true that they desire it. Soon. Soon, you too will feel that need. For I see myself in you.'