Rana stepped into her new quarters, still clutching the little bag that contained the entirety of her possessions. The room was about the same size as the dorm she'd shared with the Sultan's other lesser wives. And now, now she was to have it all to herself. The scowling guard gave her a curt nod, and walked away, his heavy steps growing quieter and quieter until Rana couldn't hear them at all. For a few more seconds she remained standing in the door-frame, taking in the sheer opulence of it all. Silk or gold adorned nearly every piece of furniture, and even ignorant as she was about these things Rana could tell that the smooth, dark wood was of the ludicrously expensive sort. She took a few tentative steps towards the enormous bed. She looked around. No one. She couldn't even remember the last time she'd been by herself in the palace.
She allowed herself a little smile, and felt a sudden rush before kicking off her sandals and jumping onto the bed. The silky sheets felt amazing against Rana's skin, and she lay back and stretched her limbs. Turning over she spotted a little table with various ceramic bottles and several little goblets on top. She rushed over to pour herself a drink. The ruby-red liquid had a strong, fruity smell. Rana had never had wine, but the Sultan's breath had often smelled of it. The aroma was much more agreeable coming directly from the source she thought before tasting it. It surprised her a little how bitter the wine was, and how dry it felt going down her throat. Not at all unpleasant though. No doubt expensive stuff. She stepped in front of a large golden-framed mirror, and began to pose in front of it, feeling like an elegant noblewoman, in her long gown, goblet in hand. It felt like an eternity had passed from her days as a farmer's daughter, her arms constantly tired from shovelling shit out of stables and food back in.
Yet it still looked odd to her, just how clean and tidy her hair and face had become. She went over to the window, and glanced out into the palace gardens. An excellent view, she thought. A number of busy looking servants hurried about the green, hard at work gardening or running errands for the nobles. A couple of well to do ladies were on a stroll, but Rana didn't recognize them, she was mostly familiar with the other wives and one or two guards. If someone were to look up at her, they'd probably think she was a high-born lady as well. The thought rather excited Rana. She'd been sad at first, having been forced to leave her family against her will, to come and serve as one of the Sultan's toys, but she knew that she was lucky, and that her family had been well-compensated, and even though her luck could turn at every moment she was determined to hang on to every bit of it.
A knock on the door made her step away from the window.
She'd never answered her own door before.
'Yes?' she said hesitantly.
'It's me, open up,' came the reply.
Rana recognized the voice, and immediately made a little whimpering sound. Quickly she opened the door for her guest.
'Good day, Amina,' Rana greeted the woman, and lowered her head a little.
Amina gave her a nod and a smile.
'Hello Rana,' she said, and stepped inside, not waiting for an invitation. 'How are you settling in?'
Rana closed the door behind the new arrival, and considered her words carefully. Amina was the Sultan's First Wife, chosen specifically by him from many, many candidates. There was no doubt about it, she was a uniquely beautiful woman, tall and dark, and a lot more womanly than Rana would ever be. Her most striking feature, however, was her complete and utter lack of arms. By now the Sultan's strange fascinations were rather well known, and Rana and the other wives always lived in fear of what the Sultan's dreaded healer might do to them on their ruler's behalf. Not that Amina had ever seemed in any way unhappy, she was probably the most privileged out of all of the wives, and Rana had even seen her order about the guards. Still, looking at Amina's empty shoulders made the hairs on the back of Rana's neck stand up, and sent a shiver down her spine.
'It is a beautiful room,' Rana finally said. 'I'm very grateful.'
Amina nodded again.
'Do not feel too guilty, dear. You will have to work for it, I assure you.'
Ah yes, it had been Rana's satisfactory 'work' that had got her this far, hadn't it. If so, than there was certainly a thing or two Amina could tell her about it, of that there was little doubt. Rana had to admit that Amina did look absolutely gorgeous. A long, light-blue dress narrowly framed her curvy body, and the plunging neckline left very, very little to the imagination, and of course, all of Amina's dresses were sleeveless so as to better accentuate her armlessness. There was also a leather bag slung around Amina's shoulder, its strap placed rather firmly in between the supple, perky pair of gravity-defying tits. Rana took a lot of care not to stare, be it at the busom- or the shoulder-area.
Luckily Amina simply looked bemused.
'That's actually why I'm here,' she explained. 'You show a great deal of promise dear, but there is a lot to refine, to nurture.'
'Refine?'
'Yes, and his Majesty has given me the task of helping you along a little, of sanding off the edges if you will.'
'I see,' Rana said, unsure whether or not to feel nervous or indeed insulted. 'What would you like me to do?'
'Oh, it's really simple,' Amina said brightly. 'Seduce me.'
'I, um... .'
'Good start.'
'Seduce you?'
'Does that make you uncomfortable?' Amina asked.
It did.
'Um, no, no of course not,' Rana knew to be careful. 'Alright then.'
'Alright then?'
'Give me a moment, will you!'
Rana tried to calm down, to focus, this was a potentially dangerous situation, if it wasn't just Amina having fun with the fresh meat, but Rana wasn't going to take any risks.
'It only natural for me to be intimidated,' trying to sound sincere. 'What with you being such an accomplished lover. The First Wife. We all want to be you, you know.'
Rana had walked round Amina, and was softly caressing her shoulders from behind.
'You've got no idea how much we look up to you, you are our ideal.'
She tenderly brushed aside Amina's hair and kissed her neck.
'And now you are here, right in my quarters. If anything I think I'm keeping it together really well.'
Amina turned to face the younger wife, and luckily she seemed rather delighted with Rana's forwardness.
'You are going to have to help me with this bag,' Amina said.