Publicly, it’s considered a great honor for a woman to become a member of the Prince’s harem. In reality, all his women are purchased from white slave traders. The Prince
also prefers younger western women between the ages of sixteen and twenty-two for his harem. While little is known about what happens to the women in his harem once they
reach their twenty-second birthdays, some of the rumors concerning their fates are quite gruesome.
The head of the harem guards came for her just after sunset on the night of Alexa’s twenty-second birthday.
“Alexa, you have an audience with your master, the Prince, in thirty minutes. You are to do your makeup and change into the lingerie that his eminence has chosen for you to wear.”
With that, he handed me a lingerie package and departed my chamber, locking the door as he left.
Knowing I must act quickly, I took a brief shower, dried my hair, applied my makeup the way my master preferred it, then opened the lingerie package. Over the years, I’ve
collected a considerable amount of sexy lingerie for my master’s pleasure and glancing at the package’s contents confirmed that tonight would be no different.
The harem guard returned at the appointed time to find Alexa dressed in a revealing white lace and satin merry widow, a matching pair of thong panties, white stockings, and high heels.
Hiding his smile at the look of nervous uncertainty on Alexa’s pretty face, “Follow me. The Prince awaits.”
I followed the guard through the palace, surprisingly not in the direction of the Prince’s quarters. Instead, we entered a part of the palace I’d never visited, its basement. The guard
led me into one of the underground chambers, where he secured my wrists within its two post-mounted restraints before leaving me helplessly standing there. A few minutes later, my master,
the Prince, entered and took his rightful place on the chamber’s raised throne. A second person entered, the royal executioner wearing his face-concealing hood, and walked over to stand ominously behind me.
A dark smile of evil anticipation appeared on my master’s face, “Welcome, Alexa, to a part of the palace that few know exists, the killing floor. Constructed in secret by my grandfather,
each chamber on the killing floor contains a unique method of execution.”
Pausing to gesture toward where I was standing, he continued, “This has long been one of my favorites, the strangulation chamber.”
As I listened in mounting horror, the executioner looped a slender rope around my neck and pulled it snugly tight against my throat.
“The royal executioner is an expert in the torturous art of slow strangulation. He can keep his victims on the edge of death for long agonizing hours before allowing them to die. Tonight,
your final gift to me will be your enduring a slow and unspeakably torturous death at his hands simply for my darkly erotic entertainment.”
While the horrifying reality of what would happen to me remained, I felt a sudden and darkly submissive masochistic longing to accept my fate willingly. “Master, my final wish is to die
for your amusement. Order your royal executioner to do his worst so that you may enjoy my slow and agonizingly torturous death to its fullest.”
With a subtle wave of his hand, Alexa’s master sealed her fate, the rope snapping taut around her slender neck in what would be the start of over four hours of brutal, unrelenting torture. Her
slow, torturous death was all he’d hoped for as she painfully went to her death merely for his amusement. Alexa’s final dying thought, “So tight...”