“Has she ever before partaken of this sort of fantasy, Yasmin?”

“No. She was, of course, half wild when she came to us. But
she’s been treated well and has done very well with the gentlemen
individually. I believed her ready for this sort of thing.”

“What is her specialty?”

“Oral gratification, my lord, and I understand she is quite good
at it.”

Khalid el Bey thought a moment. “She was probably raped some-
time in her life. The fantasy in which you placed her brought back
the memory and hence her terror. Do not put her in such a situation
again. Let her do what she is good at.”

“You are too soft, my lord. Rhia offended our guests. When they
ask, what shall I tell them has been done?”

“Do not wait for them to ask. Send a message to the two who
were scratched that the matter has been taken care of, and offer them
each an evening of pleasure at our expense.”

“It shall be as my lord has said,” answered Yasmin.

Khalid el Bey rose from the cushions and helped the Circassian
to rise. “You must return now, I know,” he said quietly, gently
dismissing her. “You will come tomorrow and begin your instruction
of Skye.”

“As my lord commands,” she said, bowing out of the room.

He almost sighed his relief. She was beautiful and loyal, but of
late she had become clinging and presumptuous of their long as-
sociation. He wasn’t quite sure what he would do about her. To free
her would only give her ideas above her situation, for she was a
slave, born of slave parents. He smiled, thinking back to those many
years ago when he had gone to a Circassian breeding farm with an
Egyptian friend. His friend was a slave merchant in Alexandria, a
connoisseur of beautiful young men and women, who preferred
buying directly from the breeder so he might have the best selection.

The owners of the farm had paraded before their valued customer
and his guest a variety of exquisite virgins and youths. Yasmin had
been among them, and Khalid’s friend remarked on her, saying that
they had shown her to him in his two previous visits.

“Alas,” sighed their host, “she is lovelier than an April morning,
but I cannot seem to sell her. I have just about decided to breed her
with our best stud.”

“What are her bloodlines?” asked Khalid’s friend.

“Pythias out of Iris,” came the reply.

“Whew!” exclaimed the Alexandrian admiringly.

Khalid el Bey had no idea what they were talking about, but there
was something touching about the little slave girl. “What is her
age?” he asked.

“Fifteen,” came the reply.

“A bit old. Is she a virgin?”

“Sir!” The farm owner was indignant.

Khalid el Bey laughed. “I will take her, my friend. I simply wish
to know what it is I am buying.”

An outrageous price was named which Khalid el Bey scoffed at,
reminding the slave breeder of the girl’s age and the possibility of
her being barren if he bred her rather than sold her. They haggled
back and forth until finally a price was agreed upon that suited
Khalid el Bey but, according to the merchant, impoverished him.
The money was exchanged, and Khalid el Bey found himself the
owner of a beautiful Circassian slave girl with long blond hair and
Nile green eyes.

When they returned to Alexandria he set about introducing her
to the joys of physical love. She had been taught its many arts but
had never used them. She knew the human body and its sensitive
areas well. Her skillful fingers could bring an impotent man to a
firm and long-lasting erection. She could sing while accompanying
herself on the lute. She danced well. And after several weeks in
Khalid el Bey’s bed, she found that she performed very well there
too.

Then one night Khalid el Bey had several guests in for the eve-
ning, and when the meal was done she danced for the company.
Afterward he sent her to her room, telling her that perhaps one or
two of his guests might visit her and if they did she was to please
them for that would please him. In fact four of Khalid el Bey’s
guests came to her spacious quarters that night, and with each she
was soft and charming and skilled. They left singing her praises,
and Khalid el Bey rewarded his slave girl with a strand of coral
beads. The next night and the night after and almost every other
night after that, Yasmin pleasured her master’s friends. Then another
girl, Alyia, joined their household. Where Yasmin was fair, Alyia
had skin like a dusky rose, thick and waving hair the color of a
raven’s wing, enormous brown eyes, and a pouting red mouth. To
Yasmin’s fury, Alyia shared their master’s bed for several weeks.
But then she too joined the Circassian in entertaining Khalid el Bey’s
friends.

Several months later, Khalid el Bey left his two women in the
hands of his friend, the slave merchant. He made a quick trip, and
returned several weeks later with two more girls. He moved them
all to the city of Algiers.

They were installed in a small, beautifully appointed house, and
every night Khalid el Bey’s women entertained a variety of guests
ranging from wealthy visitors to Turkish officers of the Imperial
Ottoman Army who were stationed in Algiers. Within a year Khalid
el Bey owned twenty beautiful women and a larger house. At the
end of two years he owned fifty beautiful women who lived in two
houses, and he had begun the construction of his present villa. When
the third year drew to a close the villa was finished, and Khalid el
Bey was the undisputed Whoremaster of Algiers. Two things were
constant. Yasmin remained the head of Khalid el Bey’s women,
gradually becoming less of a courtesan and more of an administrator
and manager. And, there was not a girl who entered Khalid el Bey’s
service who was not first tried by him. It gave each of them a close
touch with their master, for during the time they served him per-
sonally he loved and cherished them. He had never used force to
bend a women to his will. Consequently his women all adored him.

With Skye he saw his greatest challenge. With the proper training
she could become the finest whore he’d ever owned. Unlike the
others, who all cherished the secret dream of being bought and
married by one of their customers, Skye would have no such hopes
as she had no knowledge of marriage. And if, as he hoped, she
proved totally uninhibited, she could be taught some more exotic
forms of lovemaking that would command a very high price.

The more he thought of her the more curious he became. Many times he had observed her secretly in the bath and in her bedchamber.
Her figure was as lovely as her coloring, but it was her skin that
intrigued him. It was flawless. Utterly flawless. Smooth, beautiful
skin the color of rich cream, or was it old ivory silk? He longed to
touch it with his sensitive fingers, his lips. Would it be soft? Yes,
undoubtedly it would be soft. Would it be soft and warm beneath
his mouth, or would it be cool and smooth? He shivered in antici-
pation. Although he enjoyed his women, it had been a long time
since he had actually looked forward to one, and it would be several
weeks until he could even consider sampling Skye’s charms. He
sighed, and went to his bedchamber. Perhaps the little houri who
was to be his partner tonight could ease some of his longings.

At midmorning on the following day Yasmin began Skye’s les-
sons in love. She looked with dislike on the young woman she
intuitively knew to be the most serious rival she had ever had for
Khalid’s affections. Still, she reasoned, the sooner Skye was taught
what she needed to know, the sooner she’d be out of Khalid’s villa.
And Skye must be taught well, for then Khalid would be pleased.

“Disrobe for me,” commanded Yasmin, and when Skye quickly
complied, her caftan dropping to the floor, Yasmin scolded, “No!
No! You show all the sensuousness of a donkey! Let me show you.”
And her fingers undid the frog closings on her pink caftan as grace-
fully as if she’d been playing a musical instrument. Turning, she
gently shrugged the garment from her shoulders, exposing her
smooth fair skin. Slowly, slowly, she allowed the garment to slide
downward, revealing the line of her back, her plump round buttocks,
her legs. Then she turned to face Skye. Her breasts were big, but
firm. Sliding to her knees, her head bent to touch the floor and she
murmured huskily, “As my lord commands.”

Then suddenly Yasmin stood up briskly and said matter-of-factly,
”That is how to disrobe properly. You try it.”

Quietly Skye picked up her robe and dressed. Then, imitating
exactly and with equal skill Yasmin’s movements, she removed the
caftan again. Sinking to the floor at last, her dark head bowed, her
soft voice clear and sweet, she said, “Is that what you want?”

“Yes,” came the terse reply. “It is fortunate you learn quickly.

“We will now discuss perfumes. Sit down. No, don’t bother
dressing. I must show you the proper places to anoint yourself. A
woman’s body is a work of art, but in order to remain a masterpiece
you must work at it constantly.” She reached into the basket by her
side and then handed Skye some green leaves. “Mint. Chew them.
Your breath should always be fragrant and your teeth clean. All of
our women are perfection. That is what makes them famous, and
justly so. We are not common street trulls to be had for a few sequins.” Yasmin carefully laid out several bottles on the carpet.
”Musk, ambergris, attar of roses. All of our perfumes have one of
these as a base.” She uncorked them and held each out so Skye
might smell. “Which do you prefer?”

“The roses.”

“Good! I would have chosen that one for you myself. Though
my lord Khalid tells me that you are not a virgin, there is an air of
innocence about you that we will concentrate upon. It appeals to
many men. I will use the attar of roses to demonstrate.” She stood
up and, taking the stopper between her thumb and forefinger, stroked
it generously between the deep valley of her breasts. Carefully lifting
each of the heavy globes, she perfumed beneath them. Next the
stopper touched the base of her throat, the back of her neck, the soft
spots behind her ears. Then came her wrists, beneath her arms, and
in the blue-veined hollows of her inner arm. Yasmin dipped the
stopper again and touched it to her navel, the backs of her legs, her
ankles, the arches of her feet, and her Venus mound. “You must go
lightly here,” she explained, “for men sometimes enjoy the sweet
taste of a woman, and that should not be overwhelmed by another
scent.”