Felicia by S. J. Lewis

knots. She was sure it would hurt, and then she would have to be examined by that evil, creepy doctor again. She had seen him twice now, the first time after her whipping and gang rape, when he had pierced her navel and put a heavy ring through it, and later, when she had been strapped down onto that exam chair again. His nurse had assisted him as he pierced her nipples and put rings through those as well, and had even stayed to watch as he fucked her while she was strapped down and unable to stop him, or even make it difficult for him. If and when she saw him again, she suspected that he would put rings through her labia, and she was not looking forward to that at all.
    Finally, Selim gave her the order to rest. As with everything else, that meant that she had to take up a specific pose. This one was simple. She stretched out full length on her side on the carpet, her back to the watching men. She knew how that pose accentuated her hips. They had shown her pictures. They had shown her pictures of every position they had taught her to assume, and she knew it was to put that last little bit of polish on her shame.
    Shortly afterwards, she heard the bustle of somebody entering the room, but as she had not been given either an order or permission to move, she remained as she was. At least it was comfortable, and she didn’t have to look at those men.
    “Up, slut,” Selim ordered. He yanked roughly at her leash. Whenever he did that, he expected an especially prompt response. Felicia scrambled up onto her hands and knees again. Selim kept pulling firmly on her leash, forcing her head up so that she had to look.
    Neha was there, naked and collared as she was. The terrible old woman Felicia had seen once or twice in the harem held the end of her leash. Selim’s position in the harem was to be an enforcer and punisher. Felicia had no idea what the old woman’s job was, but her appearance was frightening. She was tall and bony and seemed to be angry all the time. She always wore a featureless black robe that covered everything but her claw like hands. She even wore some sort of headgear that covered her head tightly but left her face bare. Felicia always wished that she would take the next step and cover her face as well. She had a beaklike nose, a cruel, thin-lipped mouth that turned down at the corners, and beady little eyes under the most imposing unibrow that Felicia had ever seen. Whoever she was, she was in a position of some authority in the harem. And now she was here, with Neha, and Felicia had to wonder why.
    Selim led her over to Neha and made her stop once they were head to head. Neha looked nervous and uneasy.
    “I am here to demonstrate what you are to do,” Neha whispered.
    “What?” Felicia whispered back after a nervous sidelong glance at the men, who seemed to have a renewed interest in what was going on. “What is it?”
    “I must show you,” Neha said. “But now, you must kiss me.”
    Felicia hesitated at that, and then she felt the end of Selim’s whip trailing lightly across her ass. She immediately turned her head towards Neha. She had expected it to be a quick, light kiss, but Neha turned it into a long one, and used her tongue. Felicia blinked, but Neha, her eyes closed, continued the kiss. She even looked as if she was enjoying it. Afraid to break the kiss herself, Felicia played along. It wasn’t so bad, was it? After all, Neha had cared for her, comforted her, even slept naked with her in that nasty little cell. More, she had rubbed Felicia’s body with that scented medicinal oil that had helped the welts from her whipping to heal. This was just a kiss. She could handle a kiss, couldn’t she? Then she remembered that those men were watching, and she felt her cheeks growing hot.
    Neha finally broke the kiss. She smiled at Felicia almost sleepily. “Now, Felicia, watch,” she said.
    Two servants had brought in heavy posts set on thick wooden bases. Now they stood by them, their faces