Doris dreams of Maera were quite stimulating. Doris Knew that she was not a disciple of Sappho but she certainly could appreciate a beautiful female form. Doris recalled her one previous excursion into the land of woman on woman love, with the wife of a certain millionaire. The woman had been a green eyed redhead a few years older than herself. Aggressively bisexual she had instructed Doris, encouraged her, and yielded herself to the dark haired reporter.
Doris had reveled in the woman's embrace, the headiness of her perfume and the gentle touch of her lips on all of Doris's sensitive places. Truth be told, Doris was not as enthusiastic about eating pussy as her instructor was, but she still had a marvelous time. Celia, the millionaire's wife, received several orgasms from Doris and gave Doris several in return. All the while Doris and Celia were intertwined, her husband sat naked at the foot of the bed, smiling broadly and stroking his impressive manhood. Once the tryst was over, Doris's polo set hosts had extended her an open invitation to join them for a prolonged cruise. If not for some pressing deadlines, Doris would probably have accepted the offer. The beautiful raven haired reporter recalled that the post office had delivered a card from them just a few days before she and Pete Brown had been hijacked to this planet. The picture postcard from the south of France simply said "Wish you were here, in EVERY way possible." It was signed by both Celia and her husband. With a jolt, Doris realized that if she had accepted that offer she would now be in Europe instead of Wentro's harem. Doris forced the thought from her mind. It would only taunt and depress her.
Instead the beautiful buxom reporter thought about Maera. Doris had no idea how experienced the slim blonde woman was, but that hardly mattered, Doris knew exactly what she would do with the ravishing fellow harem resident. Wentro was not much different than the men of earth, realized Doris. The thought of two women satisfying each other, before or after having been used by the man appealed to something very deep in all of them. Doris realized that it was more than just the novelty of two women making love; there was envy of woman's ability for successive orgasms as well as a desire in men for friendships as powerful and deeply satisfying as those between women. Watching two women was more than simple voyeurism, it was a way of seeing, all at once, everything a man loved and envied in women. Doris knew that she would put on a good show for Emperor Wentro.
But first, after the morning breakfast and bath, were many long hours in Wentro's throne room. Doris was a bit more reconciled to her constant state of nudity. Clad only in her collar, which promised to be her only garment for as far into the future as she could see, Doris tried to push that fact away.There was nothing she could do about it so why waste emotion worrying over the reality? Under the right circumstances, being naked had always been pleasant for Doris. Wentro's throne room, with the leering diplomats and ogling petitioners was certainly not the right circumstances, but Doris tried to inure herself to them. She could not afford to let Wentro's intended humiliation achieve its purpose. "Perhaps," thought Doris, "If my behavior is exemplary and I portray the right blase air about my nudity, Wentro will decide that I have suffered enough and will give me clothes." It may have been faint hope but it was something for Doris to cling to.
There was the usual shocked atmosphere when Doris took up her spot to the right of Wentro's throne. Holding the rhythm stick away from her body, Doris strode to her place imagining that she was clad in the latest fashions from Paris. It did not stop the murmuring or the audible comments, but it helped Doris feel better at least. Later, when the spotlight flared above her, Doris began to sing "The Very Thought of You." The tune went over very well amongst the crowd and Wentro smiled in appreciation, convinced that his presence had inspired Doris's song.
Not far away Doris spotted Maera. The beautiful blonde woman had an instrument that resembled a tambourine. She beat out a steady rhythm while twirling beautifully in a flowing gossamer skirt. Doris contemplated the other woman's collar. "Monogrammed property, just like me." she thought as her eyes toured the fine body. For a moment, Doris's and Maera's eyes met and Maera winked at Doris. Apparently the thought of lying with the dark haired Doris appealed to the cool blonde dancer as well!
When the long day in the throne room concluded, Doris relieved herself and made her way to a massaging couch. Doris knew for a certainty that the least skilled masseuse on Turga outclassed even the ablest therapist on earth. Doris nearly fell asleep upon the couch but Raja came by and rounded everyone up for dinner. Doris wished she could eat her fill of the fantastic food but she was weighed every day and the portions of her meals were starkly regimented. Doris found an empty spot at the table next to Maera.
After an exchanged of pleasantries, smiles and nods. Maera focused on her meal but her right light pressed firmly upon Doris's left leg. The thin fabric that the tall blonde woman wore was no impediment to her body heat or intoxicating perfume. Wentro was so fabulously wealthy that no two of his concubines wore the same perfume. Each woman had a unique heady scent intended to stimulate the libido. In this case it made Maera even more attractive to Doris. The one time reporter for the New York Call hoped that Maera found her own scent was as stimulating.
Doris wanted to speak further with her fellow concubine but Maera was coy and silent. Apparently she only wanted to get to know Doris better on the silken sheets of Wentro's bed chamber. Doris realized as well that as much as she wanted to get to know the woman she would soon make love to, they literally came from very different worlds. "What would she know about, Broadway, sunsets on the Seine, or even red hots at Coney Island?"