Part 4

Next day, Orkideh had been called away to other duties, so Erik continued his examination of the women's breasts, a subject certainly deserving of careful study. Soraya suggested hesitantly that breasts felt different when a woman was floating in water. This was not really relevant to his perfect concubine, who was not required to be a swimmer, but it seemed too good a chance to miss. He sent the servants to bring him other clothes, and went into a side room to change. What would preserve his dignity? He chose a loose-fitting tunic and trousers, gathered at wrists and ankles. Over those he added a long robe with heavy bead embroidery at the hem, which would stop it from billowing. Thus clad, he slid himself into the shoulder-deep water.

Laughing, the girls stripped off and plunged in, surrounding him. Predictably, Afsoon was first to press her back to his chest, pulling his hands round to cup her magnificent breasts, now soft and weightless in the water. He stroked and massaged and gently pinched, while she rubbed her hips sensually against him. The cooling potion did its work, and she did not get the response she expected, but Erik was storing all the sensations in his memory, to be recalled in privacy later. When he had felt enough, he reached a hand down and gave her a slap on her behind, cushioned by the water but hard enough to tell her to move away. In turn he called all the other women to come to him and be handled in this new way.

The pool was lavishly decorated, and it was not obvious that among the ornate wall panels was a disguised viewing grid, nor that some of the pretty underwater tiles were really a window. In the room behind, the Sultan watched all that was going on, attended by Orkideh, moving between the panels to observe both above the water and under the surface.

"This was a clever idea of the little Soraya's," murmured the Sultan. "But I wonder about this Magician. What real man could do as he is doing, and yet be unmoved? What about him, Orkideh? Is he a eunuch?"

"I… believe not, Majesty. Perhaps he has some tricks of magic to keep control. But I have watched him as he watches the girls. He is… interested. Oh yes."

The Sultan shrugged. "Whether or not he can succeed in the task I have set him, the time has not been wasted. Most diverting to watch." Mahvash the well-endowed swam past the underwater window, undulating delightfully. Soraya, now in Erik's arms being sized up, wriggled a little, turning them both towards the window. Did she realise it was there, and that it was being used? The Sultan drew a deep breath. "Oh yes, that one is clever."

Orkideh eyed her master knowingly. "Majesty, shall I fetch one of the girls for you?"

"No need, no need, Orkideh. You know what to do, better than any of them." He shifted position a little on his seat, and Orkideh came closer, doing what needed to be done, while he continued to watch the action in the pool through half-closed eyes.

o-o-o

Next day, Orkideh greeted Erik and apologised for her previous absence. "I am sorry if I have delayed your work, my lord. My master has instructed me to make sure that you have all the information you may need, so I thought we should progress thus today. Fatima – " Orkideh beckoned, and Fatima stepped forward, clad in a loose gown. Unselfconsciously she dropped the gown to the floor and stood naked, then at Orkideh's gesture, stretched herself on a couch. Orkideh pushed the girl's knees far apart, and began to point out the revealed bodily details to Erik.

Erik's mask was a full hood, covering face, head and neck down to his collar. He was glad of that now, as he felt an unaccustomed blush warm his skin. The woman was so damned cold-blooded about it! Like a butcher discussing prime joints of meat. And the girl herself was relaxed and even a little bored, accustomed to being the meat on the slab.

"As you see," Orkideh was explaining, "Fatima is not, at the moment, aroused. The experience is better for the man if the woman's body is ready for him. Some men like to warm up a woman. Some would rather that she brought herself to readiness, and all these girls are taught to do that. But some of my master's guests like to see one woman bring another to arousal, so that also is taught here. Afsoon – "

Afsoon came near, and began to stroke Fatima. "Some women," Orkideh went on, "prefer the touches of other women to those of men. But such are not good candidates for the harem. All these girls respond better to men, but to please or be pleased by each other is a skill which they learn as part of their training."

Afsoon smiled and continued to work on Fatima. Gentle touches at first, to hair and throat, then sweeping strokes along her body and thighs, before settling to more intimate caresses. Fatima's breathing became more rapid, and she made small sounds of pleasure. Erik had read enough to know that such symptoms could be pretence, but Fatima's body began to show genuine signs of arousal, which Orkideh pointed out in ruthless detail. Then, at a wave of Orkideh's hand, Afsoon stopped and stepped back. Fatima gave a whimper of disappointment.

"Now, Lord, if the girl was at work, she would be ready for her man. But as she is not at work, and this is a demonstration – " At her signal, Afsoon returned to her task, continuing until Fatima reached her release, with gasping breath and ripples through her body.

"Most illuminating," Erik remarked. His rigid self-control kept his voice steady, and there was no external sign of his racing heart. "I must make some notes." He returned to the blessed sanctuary of his chair in the corner and his notebook. The cooling potion was doing its work on the part of his body it had been designed to affect, but that experience had set fires throughout his system. It was not as if he had never seen such a sight before, he scolded himself. From childhood and adolescence, curiosity and jealousy had led him to spy on couples taking their pleasure. But to see that woman, willingly spread before him like a meal for his delectation, that was something new.

When Erik felt himself sufficiently in control, he completed his writing and set aside his notebooks. Orkideh approached him and bowed.

"My lord, the Sultan has spoken to me of your studies, and insisted that you be given every opportunity to touch the girls in the most intimate manner, so that you can understand his requirements of texture and pliancy. I apologise if this task shall seem repetitive and tedious to you, but if you will deign to examine each of the seven girls in this group, then I can report to our master that his orders have been obeyed."

Erik drew a long breath. "Our master's wishes, of course, are paramount, Madame Orkideh. I shall let you arrange this in whatever manner you see fit."

And so each woman in turn was presented to him, stretched naked on a couch. Like meat on a slab, he thought again, and the whole task now seemed distasteful to him. Fastidiously he washed his hands each time, ostensibly to warm them. To the women, the process seemed merely a matter of routine. Afsoon went so far as to breathe more heavily and put on an expression of enjoyment when he touched her, but by now he was used to her attention-seeking, and paid her little regard. Part of his mind was aware that, under other circumstances, the opportunity to touch a woman in this way might have evoked a very different response in him. To be private with a woman who had chosen to be with him, who welcomed his touch for the pleasure it gave her… that would be an experience to be cherished. But it would never happen, and such thoughts were a useless distraction.

Gradually he was able to steer his mind into the technical challenge of how to reproduce the various sensations which his hands encountered. Dispassionately, he told Orkideh that he must also learn how a woman felt at the culmination of her arousal, for the mechanical concubine had to simulate this. Orkideh herself brought Afsoon to climax, while Erik's hands rested on her body. Then Erik mechanically copied the techniques on Mahvash, until he felt the contractions surge through her. Now he could tell himself he had done enough, and leave this task.

Orkideh had one more item for his consideration. She led him to a decorated cabinet, opened the door and reached inside.

"Of course, my lord, the girls must practise all their skills. Then these tools become useful." She produced an ivory carving of an erect phallus, very lifelike, mounted on a wooden handle. Erik glanced past her and into the cabinet. The "tools" were graded by size and shape. Those on the top row were scaled-down models, small and slender, no bigger than a finger. Orkideh followed his glance. "They are for the youngest girls, just beginning their training." Erik's gaze travelled down, past the middle shelf from where Orkideh had produced her sample, to the bottom shelf… his eyes widened behind the mask. Orkideh, fortunately, failed to notice, her attention on some nearly-invisible dust on one of the bottom-row specimens. Pulling the item, a more than generous handful, from the rack, she polished it with a silk kerchief and replaced it, then waved a hand to indicate the whole cabinet. "The girls learn to be versatile, but we find their particular talents. Some can easily accommodate the largest of men, others can closely embrace the smallest. Of course, most men are of the medium size, including our master the Sultan, so if the mechanical concubine is for his exclusive use, it need not be scaled to the extremes."

Erik felt that damned blush on his face again. Still, it could not be seen, and if he could not control his skin, he could control his voice. "Very interesting, Madame Orkideh, but perhaps the mechanical concubine should be able to do all that a living woman could do, or even more. After all, our master may someday have a whim to put it to the test." He waved a nonchalant hand at the cabinet. "I think I should borrow a selection of your tools and take them to my workshop, so that I can make suitable allowances."

Orkideh called a servant to bring a padded silk bag for the ivory carvings, and included with them a number of rings and sleeves, which, she casually observed, could be worn by a man to produce interesting sensations in both man and woman. Erik thankfully made his escape with his dubious trophies, to regain his composure alone.

o-o-o