Past Life Regression: Harem Girl

Harem Girl Erotica by Joan Russell 7,033 words. Giselle Pruddhomme was undergoing therapy for sex addiction. She kept repeating that she felt as if her life depended on having sex. After six months of futile sessions, Dr. Kimble suggested they try past life regression to see if an earlier life was driving her to confuse sex with survival. As she went back in time Giselle found herself in the harem of the great master of the world Tamarlane. She was given once chance to ensnare him with love or lose her life. Adults 18+.

SAMPLE

The slave traders to which the pirates had sold her had treated her somewhat less deferentially. They had forced open her mouth and examined her teeth, stripped her naked squeezed her young breasts and insisted that she be examined to make certain she was a virgin. Nothing in her young life had prepared her for that rough violation. They had held her down on a table, forced her legs apart and roughly pulled he lips of her virgin place apart. Six men stared at her nakedness. She saw the lust in their eyes. They licked their lips and she thought for a moment they would all rape her one after the other. She wanted to crawl away and die. To make matters worse, she didn’t understand what they were saying when the jabbered excitedly with each other upon finding the in tact hymen – that thin, virginal membrane that immediately increased her value by hundreds of pieces of gold. She could only imagine the direction of their conversation, and her imagination was worse than her reality.
She had been put in a tent in the slave market. She soon realized that it was a place of honor. While her serving women stood in terror chained in a long and open line to be picked off as whores for yet a different market, only the very few privileged and wealthy were invited to view Angelica.
Now she stood beside the eunuch who had purchased her and traveled with her on the hot dusty Silk Road to the place called Samarqand where her unknown fate awaited her. She had followed him compliantly through the court yards and hallways of the gigantic, opulent palace. They had paused at the great door looking over the harem. During the long trip she had been told about the palace and its quarters for the hundreds of women who served the eunuch’s master but she couldn’t help wondering at the vast expanse of space where the women, some of them accompanied by their children, sat and talked quietly among each other. All these women for one man? It didn’t make sense to her. In her world men had one wife.
The eunuch gestured to a beautiful woman with long auburn hair. The woman sauntered over slowly.
“Are you French?” was the first question out of her mouth. Giselle relaxed at the familiar sounds of her own language.
“Yes,” Angelica replied.
“Of course you are,” the woman said. “You are French because I have been called to be your teacher. I am Yvette. You have been given to me to teach you the ways of the harem. Pay close attention, your life depends on it.”