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For The Pleasure Of Prince Uday

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Eulalia

Eulalia

Poet Laureate
Staff member
Here's a fantasy I've been toying with lately, it's still taking shape, but if I start posting chapters and people like it, I'll enjoy finding out what dark places it takes me to :devil:

For the Pleasure of Prince Uday

“SLAVEGIRL EUL 101! REPORT TO THE MISTRESS’S OFFICE IMMEDIATELY!”

I shiver at this surprise call over the PAS at the end of day parade, I was in the Punishment Gym only five nights ago, I can’t have notched up that many points since?

“Yes, Mistress, slavegirl 101 ready to serve!”

Mistress eyes me as I stand before her in her impeccably clean, austere study, she looks my grubby, sweaty body up and down with her usual sneering contempt, I grip my knickers behind my bum, keep my eyes lowered, legs wide, lips parted... what’s it going to be?

“Slavegirl, you are aware that we owe it to the extraordinary charity and generosity of Sheikh Salaam Masrur that our Academy for kāfirah girls exists here in Masrurabad?”

Yeah, yeah, I thought, so-called Academy, it’s a boot-camp for training us girls so we’ll fetch top prices in Liaquat Brothers’ prestige slave-market. Still, getting a scholarship here means I’ll probably get bought by a private customer, not put up on the public stall for auction...

“Indeed Mistress, may all blessings fall upon him.”

“But we have to show our gratitude by observing certain conditions.”

I take a deep breath, I’ve a feeling I’m going to be the one who has to show her gratitude...

“In particular, we are required to supply girls on request to His Excellency, and any male members of his family.”

Uh-huh, thought so. But which one of the vile brood? And why me?

“We have received a request in the past half-hour from the office of Prince Uday Masrur...’

I stifle a gasp, a tight spasm grips my stomach. Uday, the Sheikh’s appalling son and heir, the rumours we girls have heard about him have us waking screaming with nightmares...

“He has asked specifically for you..”

My heart skips a beat.

“Th-thankyou Mistress, it’s an honour...”

Why me? I’ve learnt in my three years here to be inconspicuous, try not to be noticed, just get on with being a slavegirl and pray they’ll leave you in peace...

There was an icier edge to her voice even more than usual, she was looking at me with piercing dislike in her pale blue eyes.

“He has apparently been watching videos of our girls being punished in the Gymnasium, and has been impressed by your response to the Whip.”

Of course! This place is festooned with cameras, even our bathrooms, we girls know we’re being watched all the time, day and night.

“You are to report immediately to the Whipping Post in Shahidi Square, opposite the Masrur Hotel, you know where that is?”

Oh yes, I know. Prince Uday’s Whipping Post is already one of the leading tourist attractions in Masrurabad! I’ve not been there, we kāffireh aren’t welcome in those posh parts of the city, we don’t look good in front of expensive dress shops. But I’ve seen it many times on the public education screens on the streets and here in the Academy, I know how to get there.

“Yes, Mistress - er, should this slavegirl have a shower, and change into clean clothes?”

“No time or need for that. He wants you in your underwear – bra and briefs – that’s all. So run!”

He wants me in my bra and briefs. Filthy slavegirl in filthy undies. What’s all this about? He’s as twisted as a neurotic’s knickers. Ah well, soon gonna find out...
 
madiosi said:
View attachment 495584

“No time or need for that. He wants you in your underwear – bra and briefs – that’s all. So run!”

He wants me in my bra and briefs. Filthy slavegirl in filthy undies. What’s all this about? He’s as twisted as a neurotic’s knickers. Ah well, soon gonna find out...
Click to expand...

giggle ... Madi even added a little filth ... not sure that was quite the kind I was thinking about when I read the episode. :rolleyes:
 
madiosi said:
View attachment 495584

“No time or need for that. He wants you in your underwear – bra and briefs – that’s all. So run!”

He wants me in my bra and briefs. Filthy slavegirl in filthy undies. What’s all this about? He’s as twisted as a neurotic’s knickers. Ah well, soon gonna find out...
Click to expand...

That mistress looks awfully young and rather innocent. Makes me wonder how she got to such an exalted position...
 
Barbaria1 said:
giggle ... Madi even added a little filth ... not sure that was quite the kind I was thinking about when I read the episode. :rolleyes:
Click to expand...
it's the moment when I heard who'd sent for me :devil:

windar said:
That mistress looks awfully young and rather innocent. Makes me wonder how she got to such an exalted position...
Click to expand...
not sure about the innocent bit - but it makes me wonder too,
maybe we'll find out ;) :p
 
II

With a quick bend of my knee and bow of my trunk I acknowledge her command, and scuttle out of her office across the Parade Ground, now cleared, all my fellow-slavegirls having hastened to the canteen for their food ration – or the Punishment Gym.

I cross the sandy yard where, since I came here as a kid, I’ve been made to practice all the positions, contortions, agilities and disciplines required of a slavegirl. It’s been hard, and scary, the constant threat of the lash, sadistic women Mistresses, abusive Masters, just training us girls to get used to being constantly available to satisfy male lust in all its twisted forms.

Across to the perimeter gate, my bare feet pound rough, crumbling concrete overgrown with weeds. The grotty premises of the Mansrur Academy were a military base of some kind before the Conquest. Fat lot of good! Gran told me how a teenage hacker had found a way to disable the electronics of the entire British defence forces. Same kid probably caused the nationwide power outage, and crashed the financial system. So the Jihadis just walked in and took over and set up the Islamic State of Inglistan. Not quite the same version as the heroic tale of the Warriors of Islam we’re taught in the Academy, but whatever, it was along time ago, and the will of Allah.

At the gate in the high wire fence, a young Guard is playing a video game on his screen. I present myself a slavegirl must, on my knees, thighs wide, head bowed, arms raised, wrists crossed. He pauses from his pastime, checks the bar-code on my wrist-iron, looks at his screen,

“Up!”

“Thankyou Sir!”

He is grinning as he releases the gate-lock, clocking my lightly-clad body, he’s seen on his screen the reason for my exit.

A sudden sense of panic grips my stomach as I sprint out and along the highway, dodging between speeding police vehicles and heavy transport trucks carrying slaves to Liaquat Brothers' Market. The Academy is a tough place, yet in a strange way I’ve enjoyed it, this place has a kind of homely feel to me now, the place where I discovered just how much my small, supple body and growing legs could take and do. I’ve found a sense of achievement in being a ‘good’ slavegirl. Will I ever come back?

I’d like to let mum know where I am, but of course we slavegirls aren’t allowed phones – anyway, my sister Lau will have heard me being called over the speakers, she’ll tell mum. We’re used to Academy girls getting suddenly whisked away – and not seen again.

Drones overhead, cameras on every post and gantry, everywhere’s watched, I feel Prince Uday’s watching me...
 
Eulalia said:
II

With a quick bend of my knee and bow of my trunk I acknowledge her command, and scuttle out of her office across the Parade Ground, now cleared, all my fellow-slavegirls having hastened to the canteen for their food ration – or the Punishment Gym.

I cross the sandy yard where, since I came here as a kid, I’ve been made to practice all the positions, contortions, agilities and disciplines required of a slavegirl. It’s been hard, and scary, the constant threat of the lash, sadistic women Mistresses, abusive Masters, just training us girls to get used to being constantly available to satisfy male lust in all its twisted forms.

Across to the perimeter gate, my bare feet pound rough, crumbling concrete overgrown with weeds. The grotty premises of the Mansrur Academy were a military base of some kind before the Conquest. Fat lot of good! Gran told me how a teenage hacker had found a way to disable the electronics of the entire British defence forces. Same kid probably caused the nationwide power outage, and crashed the financial system. So the Jihadis just walked in and took over and set up the Islamic State of Inglistan. Not quite the same version as the heroic tale of the Warriors of Islam we’re taught in the Academy, but whatever, it was along time ago, and the will of Allah.

At the gate in the high wire fence, a young Guard is playing a video game on his screen. I present myself a slavegirl must, on my knees, thighs wide, head bowed, arms raised, wrists crossed. He pauses from his pastime, checks the bar-code on my wrist-iron, looks at his screen,

“Up!”

“Thankyou Sir!”

He is grinning as he releases the gate-lock, clocking my lightly-clad body, he’s seen on his screen the reason for my exit.

A sudden sense of panic grips my stomach as I sprint out and along the highway, dodging between speeding police vehicles and heavy transport trucks carrying slaves to Liaquat Brothers' Market. The Academy is a tough place, yet in a strange way I’ve enjoyed it, this place has a kind of homely feel to me now, the place where I discovered just how much my small, supple body and growing legs could take and do. I’ve found a sense of achievement in being a ‘good’ slavegirl. Will I ever come back?

I’d like to let mum know where I am, but of course we slavegirls aren’t allowed phones – anyway, my sister Lau will have heard me being called over the speakers, she’ll tell mum. We’re used to Academy girls getting suddenly whisked away – and not seen again.

Drones overhead, cameras on every post and gantry, everywhere’s watched, I feel Prince Uday’s watching me...
Click to expand...
Great chapter...
 
Eulalia said:
Gran told me how a teenage hacker had found a way to disable the electronics of the entire British defence forces. Same kid probably caused the nationwide power outage, and crashed the financial system. So the Jihadis just walked in and took over and set up the Islamic State of Inglistan.
Click to expand...
Is it that easy?:confused: ;)
Ultimately, a bayonet is still a hack-proof weapon system.:D

Good chapter, Eul!:)
 
Please do continue, Eul. This has every hallmark of a great "slave girl's own" adventure.:):) You do those so well, and besides, Madiosi seems quite inspired now.;) Shouldn't let him down. :rolleyes::D

Seriously though, this is a great start to a story - a sympathetic girl protagonist, suspense, evil nasty villains. What more can we ask? :very_hot::clapping:
 
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