They Displayed Us Bound in the Sultan’s Garden

Morning slipped through the shutters of the bedchamber uninvited and woke Mei. The new light reached the second bed, and the little Asian woman discovered with delight that Brenna had come back. She flung herself at her and woke her by licking her ear, a habit the redhead disliked pretending to dislike.

—Stop it, little devil —Brenna growled without opening her eyes.

—You look gorgeous —Mei observed, sitting up—. You could swear you’ve grown ten years younger. And your freckles? I can hardly see any.

—I spent the whole night replenishing my reserves. I think I swallowed more than a liter.

—That’s why you’re like dessert. They say the guard’s semen works miracles.

—I emptied half the barracks, I swear. What a harvest. I’m not letting those pigs touch me for at least a month.

—And me? —Mei tilted her head with false innocence—. Are you going to let me touch you?

—Of course, idiot. Come on, let’s eat each other for breakfast.

Brenna stretched and exposed the small golden rings that pierced her dark nipples. Mei looked at them with a mixture of pity and desire.

—I have to tell you what Zahra and that man of hers did to me. They’re sadists.

—Did it hurt a lot, my love?

—A little. But after that I came many times.

—I can imagine, knowing you. —Brenna pulled her closer—. Now get on top. No, the other way around, silly. Bring that soaking cunt over here.

—It’s trembling down there too.

—What a delight. Like that, drenched. Sit on my face, I’m going to stretch those rings and see how much comes out.

—A lot is going to come out, Brenna. I get wetter every time you pull… ah… oh… I’m going to come now.

Brenna couldn’t speak with her mouth occupied, but she guided Mei’s head with her hands toward her own sex, which was also spilling its hot moisture. The little one diligently traced every fold with her tongue, slowly at first and then with a hunger that did not measure time.

Brenna’s cunt was broad, framed by a reddish, curly bush. Mei’s, by contrast, was tiny, and now, completely shaved, it looked larger than it was.

—The taste of your juices has changed, Mei. Now it’s sweet, like syrup.

—It must be the rings. Stop, I come every time you pull… oh, here it comes, here it comes.

***

Suddenly footsteps echoed on the stone. Zahra entered the bedchamber accompanied by two guards. The lovers sat up at once. The two men wore bandages over their eyes and advanced with one hand on the favorite’s shoulder, who guided them like tame dogs.

—That redheaded bitch is back —said Zahra—. Get her. I’ll handle the little one.

—What do you want from us? —Mei shrieked, covering herself with the sheet.

Feeling their way, but with practiced skill, the guards pounced on Brenna. They tied her up, bound her feet, and put a gag and a hood on her with not a single opening for the eyes. The redhead was left blind, mute, and at their mercy in a matter of seconds.

—That’s it, witch, now you’re helpless —Zahra announced triumphantly, while she knocked Mei onto the bed and tied her wrists tightly—. And you’re coming with me.

—What are you going to do to us? —asked Mei, already too weak to resist.

—Punish you for taking pleasure without permission.

—That’s not true. You came looking for us before we even started.

—You’re perceptive. —Zahra smiled thinly—. Yes, but that only makes it even more reason for me to prepare you for the party.

—Are we invited to a banquet?

—In a way. The two of you are part of the banquet, in fact.

***

An aperitif was being prepared in the imperial gardens for Murad’s guests. Brenna could neither see nor speak; the tight mask and a small stopper placed between her teeth kept her silent. Mei, on the other hand, missed nothing. The guards were leading a dozen slaves, more or less by force, toward the same destination. Behind them walked four palace masseuses, very tall dark-skinned women, who moved proudly with their breasts lifted and their hips swaying like a dare.

The soldiers followed Zahra’s instructions. Some girls were locked in cages meant for birds, barely a meter high, which forced them to remain on their knees. A side opening allowed anything to be inserted, and two reeds placed beside each cage served as a reminder that the prisoner should attend with hands and mouth to whoever came near.

Brenna was taken to a low platform with three other women who were not masked, but were tied hand and foot. The guards arranged them in a cross, bringing their heads together in the center and leaving the four of their backsides exposed outward, in opposite directions.

Zahra delivered a speech in the local tongue, welcomed with pleas and laments by the three slaves who could still speak.

—What did you tell them? —asked Mei, still standing, held by the guards.

—That these four broke the rules: running away from the harem or seeking pleasures among themselves. The guests will have license to use them however they please.

Mei was about to ask for a place on that catafalque beside her lover when Zahra ordered her taken to the center of a flowerbed. There they had set up a table, several chairs, and a bamboo framework hanging from the branch of a huge carob tree, next to the table.

The powerful hands of the warriors hoisted her up to the device. They raised her arms above her head, almost brushing the branch, and tied her wrists in that position, leaving her ringed breasts completely exposed. They seated her on a square of reeds that left her sex accessible in the center, and then lifted her feet to face height, securing her legs wide open with a one-and-a-half-meter pole that had a shackle at each end.

—Your cunt is a sugar bowl now —Zahra mocked.

—My name is Mei, you little brat.

—Think you’re very clever? —the favorite roared, and landed four sharp blows with a wicker switch on the helpless woman’s buttocks.

—Ow, ow, ow! You daughter of a gra…

—How many lashes do you want? Then I’ll go on to the tits, the soles of your feet, the shaved cunt…

As she said it, Zahra brushed the tip of the rod over each part she named. Mei understood from the lesson of the wicker switch that it was better to keep quiet.

***

The guests began to appear, grave but curious, in their diplomatic uniforms, their golden robes, and their foreign frock coats. Like a plague, they spread among the camellias and gladioli, the water lilies and rhododendrons, approvingly examining the other species on offer to them: women turned into living ornaments for the enjoyment of that legion of well-fed men.

More than twenty girls, suspended from the branches at the proper height, caged or displayed on all fours, decorated the flowerbeds for the delight of the diplomatic corps. Some fortunate ones merely walked naked through the paths, offering drinks and exquisite morsels. At any moment, a dignitary would point at a server and she would set down the tray to follow him to a secluded bench, where she had to submit to every one of his whims.

Zahra kept watch over everything with the rod in her hand, ready to correct painlessly the one who showed herself unruly.

Soon Murad arrived, highly pleased with himself and his garden of delights. With three other men he took his seat around Mei. A server hurried to offer them cut fruit, skewered on long picks over silver trays.

Mei was dripping, flushed with shame, humiliation, and a desire she had spent years learning to confuse with all three things at once. Murad took a piece of melon with the pick, inserted it into the shaved, shining sex, rubbed it for a few seconds, and then brought it to his mouth, savoring at once the sweetness of the fruit and the tremor of the orgasm coursing through the prisoner. The guest from the north laughed, and then sucked his sugared piece. The one from the east did the same with a whole fig, medium-sized, which went in and out with a wet sound amid the laughter at the table.

The fourth diner, meanwhile, amused himself by savagely twisting the nipple rings, which increased Mei’s blush and wetness. It was the representative of her own land torturing her, interrogating her in her mother tongue, which humiliated her twice over.

A few steps away, several ambassadors were shamelessly enjoying the holes of Brenna and her three fellow sufferers, arranged in a cross. The women let out sharp cries when the guest of the moment was thick, and the men competed to overcome the resistance of their bodies, slapping their buttocks to force them to relax. Brenna was the most in demand of the four: five men had already left their mark on her skin and their semen in her flesh.

***

Between one orgasm and the next, Mei noticed a Latin-looking gentleman with long sideburns who was studying her intently. At a moment when the table was free, the man approached and asked her in a very low voice:

—Are you Mei?

She was stunned, but managed to answer:

—Yes.

He was undoubtedly the ambassador of some distant country, one of those from the west.

—Is Brenna here? —he continued.

—Yes. That one in the hood, the one who moves her hips like a lizard.

—The one with that fat man?

—The same one.

—But I can’t see her freckles anywhere. You’re lying to me.

—Her freckles disappeared last night. When Brenna drinks a lot, she gets younger and they disappear. That’s how it is.

—Then it is her. Listen carefully: my name is Tomás Belmonte, I’m with the police in Valencia, and I’ve come to get the two of you out of here.

—Don Tomás —whispered Mei, without losing her polite smile—, do me the favor of eating some fruit with my juices on it. That harpy Zahra is looking this way.

—Is that the favorite?

—Yes, and she gets in a very bad mood when she suspects something. So eat, come on.

—For the record, I’m doing it to keep up appearances. All this seems disgusting to me.

—Try a piece of banana. Everyone has gone back for more after trying it.

—Good lord. —Tomás savored it despite himself—. You’ve got the sweetest sex in the world.

—Thanks for the compliment, but don’t take it out so soon. You have to rub it for a while so it takes on all the flavor.

—The flavor you’re giving yourself. Your friends already warned me you’re a first-class pervert.

—My friends?

—Clara and Pilar came with me. And your boyfriend too, who’s been out of his mind with despair ever since you left with the trafficker Kemal.

—Darío! And my companions… —Mei’s voice cracked—. Please, Mr. Belmonte, get us out of here. I’ve had enough of this banquet for these four days already.

—Wait for instructions. Tomorrow we’ll carry out the rescue. Hey, I’m going to try the plums, because you’re gorgeous. I mean, you’re very nice, but your sex is even better.

—Yes, yes, keep eating —she murmured, glancing sideways at Zahra—, but leave room for those other gentlemen too; they’re entitled to their share of the banquet as well.

Tomás withdrew with a nod and the half-eaten fruit, and Mei was left alone again on her reed framework, hanging between pain and hope, silently counting the hours until the following morning.