Cairn Howff Tales: the Princess

It was late in the day, well past the time most caravans arrived at the Serai, and everyone was napping to conserve energy in the sweltering temperature. The Pasha, however, was pacing the courtyard in nervous anticipation when suddenly there was a flurry of activity. A caravan was spotted emerging from the shimmering heat in the distance. After the large wooden doors creaked open and the camels slowly plodded in, the drivers fell to the ground in the shade of the palms, glad to have finally made it to this out-of-the-way oasis. Servants set about unpacking the animals and taking them to be watered and fed. The last person standing was a tall blond woman wearing a western-style dress, so out of place here. She stood in the middle of the courtyard, looking around as though surprised by her surroundings.

Smiling, the Pasha strode over to her with a friendly greeting of welcome, speaking to her in a broken if studied English. "Please come out of the sun and have something to drink. Your trip must have tired you." The woman returned his warmth with the radiant smile of someone comfortable dealing with the diplomacy of strangers. Slowly they moved under the portico at the back of the courtyard to a series of cushions as nearly naked slaves brought dates and watered-down wine as well as basins of water and clean towels for washing.

Over the next few hours, the Pasha heard the story of the scientific expedition that was exploring the region, how their camp had been attacked in the night by raiders, and how the Princess, for that was who the woman was, had been saved by a passing caravan of traders. The trauma of the past few days and the relief at finally feeling safe was evident as the Princess finally relaxed and the story seemed to tumble out in a long exhale. The Pasha tried to explain the current spate of tribal warfare that had led the raiders to attack anyone venturing into the desert, often taking captive slaves and killing anyone who could not be enslaved. He lamented the current state of affairs that had caught the Princess unawares. Finally, with the setting sun and the cool breezes of evening blowing through the palms, the Pasha summoned two nearby women to show the Princess where she could bathe and rest for the evening.

It was a long and winding path that had led the Princess to this distant oasis. The only daughter of the Crown Prince's youngest brother, she had grown up in the lap of luxury, knowing as a Princess she was special. However, she rebelled early on against the structures of her society. She considered one of her greatest triumphs when as a young girl, she had stripped naked and covered her body in leopard spots to ambush her brothers and their playmates in the woods as a wild panther girl. Her mother had to deal with the resulting kerfuffle and was heard to mutter that "Princesses are a lot of trouble." It was the same many years later when she made her debut at the Spring Ball, causing two of the royal guests to have a very public fistfight over her in the middle of the dance floor. In dealing with the scandal, her uncle, the Crown Prince, declared that "Princesses are a lot of trouble." Now, at age twenty, when she insisted on joining a Royal Expedition to map the uncharted regions of the world, her father had refused. Why would not she just marry some German Duke or Spanish Marquis to further the realm's diplomatic relations? The Princess would have none of it, and finally, her father gave in, repeating the often-said phrase that "Princesses are a lot of trouble."

If her beauty stood out in the Royal courts back home, it was like the sun in this part of the world. Tall and slender, with shimmering blond hair that reached her waist, she would attract crowds wherever she went as children and shop keepers and people just out on some errand would start following her. The mapmakers she was traveling with could use her charm and beauty to open doors that would have remained closed to them. However, at other times she brought unwanted attention when they intended to unobtrusively mark some area. As the leader of the expedition said, "Princesses are a lot of trouble." Now she worried that this attention caused the attack on the camp and her retreat to this small oasis so far from anywhere.

The Caravanserai had a lovely hammam or tiled bath with a large pool of freshwater. Once inside, the women quickly stripped off their delicate robes and showed the Princess how they would bathe her. The Princess allowed the girls to remove her dress and undergarments, leading her into the cool water. With many giggles and chattering that Princess could not understand, the girls proceeded to scrub away the dirt of many days. More girls entered with trays of food and drink, and the hammam became a party of women laughing and eating and splashing in the pool. The Princess was both the center of their celebration, and because she could not understand what was said around her, aloof from the party. Still, she was relieved to be safe and enjoyed watching the others have fun. Ever the constant observer, she noticed that all the women were different, some dark-skinned and some light, some tall and thin, while others were what her mother would have called "pleasingly plump." All of them seemed comfortable in their nudity, and she had to admit that they were each beautiful in their own way. After a few hours, the party did not so much break up as just wind down, with girls curling up on cushions nearby and drifting off to sleep. The Princess followed their example, pulling a light sheet over her naked body and drifting off.

Before sunrise the next morning, the calm was broken with shouts throughout the Serai. Shots were fired, and the drivers were pulling their camels into the courtyard and racing for the gates. The Pasha was in the center of his men, shouting directions as a hasty defense of the Serai was mounted. The women in the hammam peered out the latticed windows before leading the Princess further into the back rooms, hiding behind stores of goods. Whatever battle was over in minutes. In the end, the Serai was safe, but the Princess had been abandoned when her caravan had bolted, drawing the raiders off in a mad dash across the desert.

The Pasha knew the raiders would be back and spent the rest of the day surveying the damage and preparing the defenses. Finally, in the afternoon, he visited his harem to check on the women. The Princess had dressed in one of the robes the women had offered and stood back as the Pasha surveyed the situation. With all the ladies shouting and talking, she was unsure how he could understand anything. "They are telling me how they hid you from the raiders. They want to know if they are safe and if the raiders will be back," he translated to the Princess. "I've told them that we can expect a return and that they will be responsible for your safety. Until this dies down, I think it is best if you stay hidden here with the women." With that said, he left to check on the supplies and ammunition.

The next few days were both tense and tedious for the Princess. While everyone was obviously concerned with the raiders' return, there was little anyone could do but wait. The Princess did not see much of the Pasha in that time and spent her days learning simple greetings from the women and teaching them some of her English. It was a pleasant distraction, and some of the girls were eager students. Slowly, she developed friendships in the harem, learning the women's names and some of their histories. Many of their names were unpronounceable, so the Princess took it upon herself to give them new names, such as Opal, Amber, Jade, Rose, Jasmine, and Topaz. The women seemed amused by this, and there was a lot of laughing and giggles as they practiced saying their new names. It appeared that the Pasha had built his collection over time, acquiring the women from different caravans as they passed through the oasis. A lot of time was spent in the hammam, bathing in the cool waters and eating dates and the excellent spiced mutton.

On the third day, the raiders returned. Rather than fight, the Pasha let them into the Serai to water their horses. A tense truce was declared between the Pasha and the leader of the band as the raiders spent two days lounging around the courtyard, eating the Pasha's food, and drinking his wine. Early on the third morning, they departed just as suddenly as they had arrived, off in search of whatever enemies they could find or whatever loot they could capture.

The Princess could feel the tension lift from the Serai like the afternoon heat in the evening breezes. Now that the immediate threat was over, the women were once again chattering and laughing. It was that afternoon that the Pasha strode into the hammam. The women were excited to see him and quickly surrounded him, squealing, laughing, and pulling his clothes off. The Princess, who was in the middle of the pool, sunk beneath the water to hide her nakedness before slowly rising so just her head was visible. None of the other women seemed at all concerned that they were naked, and soon the Pasha was just as naked, sinking into the pool as the women vied for position to bathe him. The Princess watched with amusement as he was soaped from head to toe. He was laughing as the girls giggled before dunking himself beneath the surface to rinse off.

"They want to know what will become of you," the Pasha said, looking straight at the Princess as she hovered just above the surface of the water, trying not to be noticed. This, of course, was the question she had been asking herself for the last few days. "I've told them we will have to keep you safe here," he said with a smile. The women cheered and clapped as though they understood what he was saying. The Princess was both relieved and concerned. Relieved that she was safe and concerned, not knowing what it meant to stay here. "Of course, it would be best to shelter you here in the harem, and you should try to blend in as much as possible." The Princess murmured her thanks with a smile. Later, as the Pasha stood to leave, she was able to look him over in all his nakedness. The only nudity the Princess had seen back home were the statues in uncle's garden, and they usually had a strategically placed bit of carved cloth or a fig leaf covering what as a girl she wanted to see. This was the first time the Princess had seen a naked man, and the sight took her breath away. He was older, perhaps in his late forties or early fifties, with a lean, muscular body. There were some obvious scars from his years leading men into countless battles. His manhood, which made him so different from the women she had been bathing with this last week, mesmerized her. He towered over the women who surrounded him with his bald head and scruffy, grey beard, smiling down at them with obvious affection and amusement as they dried him and helped him into a fresh robe.

The next few days were the same as the last few. The Princess hung around with the women of the harem, listening to them gossip in a strange tongue she did not understand, teaching them a little English, and learning a few more words of their language. Over time, she noticed that their clothes seemed to slip away more often, even when they were not taking their frequent bathes. Sometimes they would go topless with just a loose wrap around their waist. Sometimes women would appear completely naked, casually walking around as though it was nothing. The Princess still tried to cover as much as possible, but there seemed to be fewer clothes to wear, and she found herself wrapped in diaphanous cloth more times than not. Given the heat, this was perfectly fine with her.

The Serai seemed to be quiet as well. Over the next few days, no caravans were passing through and no sign of the raiders. The Princess saw the Pasha, but there was no opportunity to discuss her situation. He was busy with the servants making repairs to the Serai or inventorying the supplies. It was a comfortable existence, but the Princess worried that it could not last. In the evenings, he would often join the harem for a meal, sitting around on carpets and cushions as dishes were passed around. The evening would end with some of the women singing, some playing simple drums or reed flutes, and some dancing a sultry dance of swaying hips. The music and the dances were like nothing the Princess had ever seen, sensual and provocative. The Pasha would watch the scene around him with the quiet confidence of a master, the same look her uncle had when he was watching his court. Except here, there seemed to be no courtly decorum. The Pasha would have an arm draped over one or two of the girls cuddled next to him. The Princess noticed that it was different women on different evenings, and it did not seem to matter to the Pasha or the women which of them were chosen. These women usually did not return to the harem until late the next morning, looking worn out but happy. The other women would pepper them with questions and erupt into squeals of laughter as they relayed their adventures. The Princess could only imagine the night they had spent with the Pasha.

About a week after her arrival, there were again shouts and a sudden burst of activity. Another caravan could be seen approaching in the distance. The servants busied themselves preparing for the arrival as the Pasha had the gates thrown open and stood watching the approach. The Princess took it upon herself to move close to better see what was happening. "It is a slaver caravan," the Pasha said, almost to himself but perhaps so she would hear. Her heart sank at his words. This was not the salvation she was hoping for. Sure enough, the few camels were followed by a sullen line of a dozen naked slaves, both male and female, chained together at the neck and four equally sullen camel drivers. "You may want to say hidden, Princess, lest they want to buy you, or worse yet steal you away." The Princess took this as good advice and moved off with the other women before the caravan entered the courtyard.

So, it went. The women of the harem remained secluded for the next two days while the caravan rested and resupplied. In the end, the Pasha had acquired a new dark-skinned slave girl who was at first shy around the others but seemed easily accepted. Then it was back to the quiet, comfortable existence of bathing, napping, and eating that seemed to occupy the women.

As time went on, the Princess began to wonder about the Pasha's relationships with the women. He had not returned to the bathes since that first visit. There seemed to be a hierarchy within the harem but no ruling female as she had expected. He seemed to enjoy the pleasures of all the women at different times. These thoughts made the Princess blush even to herself. Since arriving in this part of the world, she had often fantasized about harem life, conjuring up wild ideas in her mind. Now, as she was living in a harem, a part of her had to admit it was more sensual than she imagined. Some of the women would cuddle together at night with kisses and perhaps more. While the Princess remained by herself, she found the sexual tension all around her was building. She would fall asleep with her hand between her legs touching her most intimate parts as she listened to the quiet moans of a nearby couple. As she got to know the women better, she found herself judging each of the girls' charms and keeping track of their comings and goings. The women of the harem were spending time training the new slave in how to dance, and the Princess took a particular interest in her lessons. The basic steps seemed easy, but she was unsure how they could be mastered as they progressed. The Princess found herself sashaying around the harem to a drumbeat in her head as she tried out the various moves to see if she could master them as well.

It was about this time that the Pasha announced a party in honor of some holiday. Special meals would be prepared, and there would be dancing. The women were all excited and spent an extra-long time in the bathes primping. Jewelry and makeup the Princess had not seen before were pulled out and traded among the women as each one tried to look her best. This was so different from what the Princess was used to back home, where she would wear a fancy necklace and perhaps a nice ring or jewels on her ears. Here the jewelry was heavy necklaces, bangles on the wrists and ankles, belly chains, with lots of tiny bells, rings on their toes, as well as the fingers. The makeup was intricate patterns of henna on the hands, arms, feet, and legs with kohl around the eyes to give the women a sultry look. The women took special care to help the new slave girl with her makeup and jewels. They did not spare the Princess in all this effort. Special attention was paid to her as they worked to make her as beautiful as the rest.

That night the Pasha was particularly attentive to the new slave girl. She danced with the other girls and then finished dancing alone. She still had a lot to learn, but all the girls cheered for her, and the Pasha seemed pleased by the progress she was making. By the last dance, she was naked and covered in an oily sheen. The Pasha summoned her over to lay with him on the cushions, and it was now that the Princess noticed that the Pasha had slipped off his robe and was also naked. She was stunned to watch as he pulled the new slave onto his lap and then onto his stiff manhood. The other girls were cheering as he coupled with her in the open. It was the most brazen thing the Princess had seen in all her life, and she could not look away. What was the strange place where she found herself, distant not just in miles, but in experiences and expectations of what was acceptable?

From this point on, the evening meals and parties became more lubricious. The women would often dance naked, and the evening would end with the Pasha coupling with one or two women. The Princess would stare transfixed as they would start by licking his shaft to erection before climbing on top and riding him. Other times he would grab a squealing girl and drag her across a cushion to take her from behind. The woman would often pretend to resist, but it was apparent to the Princess that this was just part of the game, which would end with cheers and laughter from the assembled group. In the harem, the girls were becoming more open about their liaisons with each other. For the Princess, all of this was an eye-opening education in the ways of love and sex, and it put her in a constant state of arousal. The more she saw, the more she wanted to see.

Slowly she began to participate. She would let the women bathe her in the hammam, and she began to wash them as well. She no longer flinched at their casual touches and came to enjoy the friendly caresses. She would soon take the hand of a girl when she wanted to go for a meal or a nap and enjoyed it when one of them would drape an arm over her shoulder. She also began to be open about her dancing, joining the lessons as they practiced the more intricate moves. These lessons were easier done naked, and now the Princess seemed just as comfortable as the other girls walking around the harem in the nude.

When the Pasha announced that they would have a celebration the following week to mark the two-month anniversary of her arrival at the Serai, the Princess was just as excited as the other women. It felt like she had been here all her life, and at the same time, that she had just arrived. The next few days were spent in a frenzied whirl of dance lessons and polishing jewelry and preparing robes and makeup. The Pasha had taken a group of the men on a hunting trip that week. So, the Princess did not see much of him.

Finally, the day of the party arrived. Again, the women spent the day preparing in the hammam with everyone focusing on the Princess. She was bathed and massaged, then perfumed, and then one of the older women spent hours painting her arms and legs with the most intricate, rich patterns of henna. Finally, her hair was twisted up in a long braid piled onto her head and held in place with a single long pin. She had bells on her fingers, ankles, and dangling from her ears, and she wore the thinnest of silks around her waist and across her chest. She knew they had achieved the desired effect when she sashayed into the dinner with the other women and saw the Pasha's face light up in appreciation. The Pasha had brought out his best wines, and the meal of gazelle and gamefowl rivaled anything her uncle could have served back home.