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Dasheena laughed, her dark eyes sparkling. “I have heard from my sisters who come from other lands that in some places, both men and women sometimes battle to be the sole object of affection of their beloved. We all know that one day Tahraz will choose one woman to be his suiltaana. Then he will no longer have need of this hareem. He will allow us the choice of staying here and being treated as members of his family or being given as wife to another.”
“And he chooses your husband?”
Dasheena looked surprised. “Of course. He is our master. Our fathers gave us to the suiltaan instead of choosing a husband for us. Now the responsibility is his. If he does not want one of us as his wife, then he will choose the man to whom we will give our obedience and our devotion for the rest of our lives.”
“And until then, he…uh…enjoys being with all of you?” Bree was embarrassed, not sure how to go on with her questions.
Dasheena smiled. “The suiltaan is a handsome man, Queen Bilquis, strong and virile. It is our pleasure to serve him in every way…and he is skilled at the art of giving pleasure to us as well.”
“But he punishes you, spanks you, forces you to do whatever he wants.”
“We are punished only when we displease him. We live in his mercy, wanting for nothing. Our lives are good. Obeying his commands is our duty…and our joy.”
Bree shook her head. The lot of a woman in this tribal life was a far cry from the freedom women enjoyed in Mahrib. But at its core, Bree reminded herself, ancient Sabataea was no different. Even Bilquis, with all the power of a sovereign, had been on her way to meet a husband chosen for her by her father’s family.
As a student of ancient life, Bree knew all the logical reasons why civilizations had evolved to give the male the more powerful role. He needed to protect the family unit from enemies, both wild and human, insuring survival of his progeny. His larger body size and increased muscle mass gave him superior strength. He was always ready for battle, unlike a female who might be pregnant or nursing a helpless infant.
But, as a woman, Bree railed at the injustice. Dasheena acted as if she was happy to submit to the suiltaan. What would make a woman willingly kneel before a man, declare it was her joy to please him? Was it purely his sexual prowess? She thought about the look she’d seen on Dasheena’s face when she spoke of her suiltaan.
It’s love.
The thought popped into Bree’s head. She immediately dismissed it. She’d never really been in love. Not the giddy, starstruck kind in cheap romance novels. Certainly not the boring variety, where the couple pledge their undying love then fall into the daily grind of children and chores, never to speak of it again.
She’d thought she was in love with James, the professor overseeing her graduate studies. But he’d only proven her theory that saying “I love you” was just another tool males used to maintain power over females. In her opinion, love was an illusion women had bought into through the centuries because it made their lives of subservience bearable.
She dressed for the evening and followed Dasheena into the suiltaan’s tent, dropping to her knees and then sitting back on her heels as the other women did.
Tahraz was striding up and down in front of the fire brazier, his expression grim.
“I am displeased. One of you has ignored my commands, straying from the boundaries of our home and venturing into the mountains alone.”
The women exchanged worried glances. One of them began speaking. “If it pleases the suiltaan…”
“No, it doesnotplease the suiltaan,” he roared. “Silence! There is no excuse for such behavior. You could have been injured, even killed. The mountains are dangerous, full of wild creatures and poisonous snakes, to say nothing of unstable slopes where you could break a leg and then die of exposure waiting for someone to find you.”
He stopped pacing. “Suhailah, come forward.” His tone was flat.
The blue-eyed woman who had spoken rose and haltingly made her way to stand before the suiltaan.
“You will assume the position. Dasheena, Na’ Ima, assist her.”
Suhailah dropped to her knees. Dasheena and Na’ Ima knelt on either side of her, reaching out to strip off her robe and reveal the flimsy garment she wore underneath, held up by the festive band encircling her hips. Unbidden, Suhailah bent forward, her head touching the carpet.
Dasheena pulled up the nearly transparent skirt to expose her bottom, tucking the ends of the fabric under her belt. Suhailah willingly brought her arms behind her back, grasping one wrist tightly with her other hand. Na’ Ima took the veil off her head and used it to tie Suhailah’s hands together.
Tahraz picked up a flat wooden board, smacking it against his thigh as he moved into place behind her. It made a resoundingcrack.Bree jumped in spite of herself. She remembered all too well the pain and embarrassment she’d felt in that situation. Without another word, Tahraz drew back his arm and gave Suhailah a harsh smack.
She cried out. Tahraz paddled her again. Bree saw Dasheena wince and avert her eyes, but she did not leave her position. Apparently the suiltaan required that all the women of his harem witness a punishment when it was doled out, perhaps to deter future misbehavior by the others. By the third whack, Suhailah was sobbing openly, begging the suiltaan for mercy and swearing to obey his every wish in the future.
The suiltaan, unmoved by her pleas, continued her punishment. He paddled every inch of her bottom until it glowed bright red. Suhailah’s tears flowed, but she knelt, unmoving, her ass lifted high in the air.
Finally, he threw the board on the ground. Bree thought the discipline was over, but Tahraz barked another command in a dialect Bree couldn’t understand. Suhailah let out a loud wail and began struggling. Na’ Ima and Dasheena pinned her shoulders down so she couldn’t move.
Tahraz spoke again, a single word. Crying pitifully, Suhailah spread her legs wider. Bree recognized the position as the same one the women had assumed at her temple on the night of the festival. Was the suiltaan planning to take her now, with everyone looking on?
He knelt behind her, running his hand possessively between her thighs. Then he pulled something out of a pocket in his robe. It looked like a small phallus. Tahraz began working the object into her bottom hole, slowly sliding it in and out while she begged him to stop, making wild promises and swearing she would never disobey him again.
“Be silent, or I will begin your punishment anew,” he thundered. She let out a harsh gasp as he rammed the object inside her, but did not protest again.
