Sitting at the head of the table inside the meeting room at Harington Company, I watched the board member’s behavior as they sat around it. They looked like sewer rats, overly obedient and lacking the courage and nerve to defy me, or even to suggest new investments or strategies. They just agreed to everything I decided, as if my word were indisputable.

Perhaps I had demanded things to be that way from the beginning, although I wasn’t aware of it. That my authority as president should be treated as absolute, ensuring things would always bend to my will and never escape my control, now seemed ridiculous. People should be bolder and have the courage to contribute intellectually to our business’ growing and development. This was a new point of view for me. Maybe it was all changing for me because it was closer to the end, and nothing seemed to make much sense now.

“End of meeting, gentleman” I said with my usual firmness.

There was unfinished business yet to be resolved, but no one contested my order. They got up and started to leave, one by one, like little rats running away from water.

My brother, Jeffrey, followed me when I got up and headed back to my office adjacent to the meeting room. Because he was the only close family I had since our parents’ death, he was the only one in the Company with the courage to address me informally, although that wasn’t always the case.

When our parents died in a car accident fourteen years ago, Jeffrey was twelve and I was sixteen. We were both taken in by a neglectful aunt who was always drunk and treated us as if we were invisible I her tiny Brooklyn apartment. In essence, we were left to our own devices. That was when we took very different and distinct paths. While I studied and made small investments, that, years later, would result in my multinational company based in Seattle, Jeffrey got lost in the world of drugs without me to look after him in my obsession to become someone who mattered.

Things changed only five years ago when I was informed that he was in jail for several minor crimes to support his drug habit. That was when I decided to do something I should have done from the beginning; take responsibility for my brother. I put him in rehab, where he stayed for two years before coming to work with me. Unfortunately, I couldn’t give him a high position since he didn’t finish high school.

However, Jeffrey was doing his best. He went back to school and had already started his path to graduation, which offered him the possibility to participate in our business at a higher level. Somehow, he did for me what I didn’t do for him earlier.

At Jeffrey’s request, I also hired our cousin, Erica, whose mother was the very aunt who raised us. Because she already had obtained a degree, I could give her a higher position.

Life really was full of surprises, considering that both of them were essential to my personal life now and the only people I could count on delicate situations.

“Come on, man, let’s check the odalisques.” Jeffrey said, sitting on the opposite side of the table in his usual informal manner, pleased with his use of the term for harem girls. He thought it made him sound sophisticated.

Although he reluctantly agreed to dress professionally when working at the Company, he sometimes still acted like that addict raised in Brooklyn, especially when it came to his manners.

“I have no time today” I said.

I had forgotten about that subject. Like I had nothing more important to do, the Moroccan Prime Minister decided to present me with a harem composed of their girls. I only accepted this ridiculous gift because he was an irreplaceable client for the exportation of our equipment and to decline would offend him enough to abandon us and look for other companies with which to do business. I was able to negotiate with the National Security Secretary to let the girls inside the USA without a lot of bureaucratic red tape and asked Jeffrey to meet them at the airport.

The Secretary helped me with the girls’ tourism visas, but he wouldn’t take responsibility for the legal questions of immigration to the United States. Therefore, it was necessary to hide them for at least a couple of months until we could obtain visas for them to stay in the U.S. and then move on with their lives. That’s why I bought the country house in Newcastle, an hour away from Seattle, where they could live and have everything they needed.

Jeffrey was excited about the idea of having six girls at his disposal who, according to Prime Minister, had been trained from adolescence to please a man in bed and out. I sincerely didn’t know what to do with them, because I really wouldn’t want to be with a woman who was just doing her job and didn’t really desire me. The fact that my brother didn’t feel the same made me lose faith in humanity.

“You said the same yesterday and you’ll probably repeat it tomorrow. It’s been three days since those hot girls got here and you haven’t even seen their faces.” He insisted, “Let’s go there, man. Your next meeting is in two hours and it’s a quick trip by helicopter.”

“Why don’t you go by yourself? Tell them I asked them to gangbang you,” I said sarcastically.

Jeffrey snorted. “I’ve tried, but the guy who looks after them, the eunuch, said that they only show themselves after “the Master,” you, command them in person.” That sounded so surreal that I wouldn’t believe if it wasn’t happening to me. You should have seen them at the airport when I arrived. They used a black cloth over their faces and only their eyes showed.”

“That’s called niqab or burka.”

“I don’t care what it is called. I’m curious to see those girls really are pretty.” He seemed hopeful and gave me a half smile. “Can you imagine six gorgeous girls eager to do whatever you want in bed?”

“What if they aren’t gorgeous?”

“That’s what I need to know. Come on, man, it won’t take long. You tell them to remove the niqab or everything they’re wearing, and command them to be with me whenever I want it. Then we come back.”

The idea of having a girl in my bed because someone commanded her to made me sick, but if didn’t bother Jeffrey and the girls were willing to lead this kind of life, who am I to judge?

“Ok, Jeffrey, but I only have two hours. We’ll take the helicopter, but won’t stay more than half an hour there.”

“That’s it, man.” Jeffrey celebrated like a 15-year-old boy, instead of a 26-year-old man.

In twenty minutes, our helicopter landed on the heliport near the Newcastle’s country house. Isolated from the urban environment and more than 60 miles from the nearest house, it was a great property. Built by some millionaire who wanted peace and quiet, it had a golf camp, a big garden with pruned trees in front and a big pool and recreation area on the back. There were three floors and seven bedrooms, one for each girl and one for the eunuch, a dining room, a living room with a fireplace in it and another without, an office and a very rich library. I bet no one would use it since the girls didn’t speak English. I hired two housekeepers to clean the house, a cook to take care of the meals, a gardener so our “guests” wouldn’t complain, and two bodyguards prevent them from going out by themselves, possibly raising immigration’s attention. After all, better safe than sorry.

We got off the helicopter and crossed the well-maintained garden that covered by the green grass and surrounded by pruned trees. The silence and the scent of fresh air permeated the place, which was as beautiful as what I saw on the internet before I made the deal to buy it. Maybe I would take Jeffrey’s advice and throw parties on the property, starting with his birthday, which was just weeks away. At least our male guests would be very pleased.

The eunuch greeted us in the main hall. He was a fat, bald man who had a girlish smile and wore a kind of tunic too colorful for my taste. He said he cared for the girls’ welfare and helped them communicate with people because none of them spoke English. Fortunately, they didn’t need much verbal communication for what they were trained to do.

“It’s an honor to meet you, sir. I’m Samir and I’m here to serve you as you please.” The man said with a strong Arabian accent. He bowed and continued to smile, doing all he could to please us, which looked ridiculous to me. As if it wasn’t enough, he looked at me obsequiously. ‘Just what I need,’ I thought. “You just have to command and I’ll do it, he continued. “If one of the girls displeases you, tell me and I’ll punish her, although I can assure you this won’t happen. These girls are very docile and submissive. They were taught from a young age how to please a man in every way. They have also been part of the King’s harem. Do you wish to meet them now?

“Of course,” I said, indifferently.

I was standing behind a couch while messaging my secretary about the company’s recent activities. My brother sat on the couch, focusing on the eunuch’s words. He didn’t mask how much fun he was having.

Commanded by the fat man, the girls entered the room in a line, one after another, wearing their niqab and very elaborate tunics. They looked elegant and womanly, walking on high heeled silver sandals, except for the last one, who stumbled over her own feet and fell on the floor as she entered the room.

“Oh, forgive me, sir. This never happened before. It was a silly negligence,” the eunuch said uncomfortably while helping the girl up to stand beside the others.

Jeffrey’s laughter echoed throughout the entire room.

“No problem, this kind of thing happens.” I didn’t really know what else to say.

The concept of owning another human being was too absurd. I was shocked that this was natural in Islamic countries. As soon as enough time passed for the Prime Minister not to think I got rid of his present and I could get them a permanent visa, I would release the girls. Until there they would learn a little English so they would be able to move on with their lives in the U.S. Under the eunuch’s orders, they all knelt before us, something I found ridiculous and humiliating.

“Tell them to get up and never do that again”. I said. This was absurd!

“It’s a respectful reverence in our country, sir.”

“I know, but you don’t need it here.”

The eunuch told the girls to get up.

“Do you want them to show themselves now?” He asked.

The six pairs of eyes alternated between Jeffrey and me in an inquisitive way. They looked at me when the eunuch addressed me, calling me Sir. The girls recognized which of us owned them and that was even more bizarre.

“Show themselves how? Take off all their clothes?” Jeffrey asked, triumphantly. He was having great fun.

“Yes, if the master commands it.” the eunuch replied.

“There’s no need. Just show their faces.” I said.

“Fuck, Jared! Let the girls show us what they’ve got.” Jeffrey complained.

“Do as you please”. I checked my cellphone for a new message I received from Alice. Nothing urgent, but business was always important.

At the eunuch’s sign, one of the girls took off her niqab, revealing her face and hair. She was very pretty, about twenty-five years old and had Arab traits, but she was not completely Arabic. She had dark blonde hair and greenish brown eyes. Clearly a mix of races.

“This is Nara.” The eunuch said, addressing the smiling girl. “She can dance, sing and do a very relaxing massage, among other things that will please you.” He gestured and the girl beside her took off her niqab as well, showing her red hair and green eyes, with few Arabic traits. He introduced her by the name, talking about her skills, just as he had with the first.

He repeated it with the third girl, who just like the first two, wasn’t entirely Arabic as well, but very pretty and about twenty-five too.

I wondered about their stories. If they were a mix of races, they certainly were daughters of Moroccan mothers who married or had an affair with foreign men. Maybe they had been abandoned by their families and excluded from society. I knew the traditional Islam family is the only acceptable custom in their countries. Maybe they became part of a harem because they weren’t acceptable anywhere else in their hometowns. Maybe they lived on the streets and some bad circumstance put them in this situation. The women’s trade was very common in those countries, with girls being trained to be part of harems. I had researched it.

I searched for a trace of any suffering or dissatisfaction with their situation on each one's face, but all I saw were wide smiles and fiery and suggestive glances in my direction. While these women seemed not sad at all, it was always a mistake to judge people by appearance.

The eunuch continued the introductions, enumerating each one’s talents. They were all gorgeous and smiling and looked eager to please their new master. Only one of them was fully Arabic.

The fat man changed his attitude, looking a little uncomfortable, when he introduced the last girl, the one who had fallen while entering the room. At his sign, she took off the niqab and fixed her big light-brown, almost golden, eyes on my face as her long black hair fell over her shoulders. She was stunningly beautiful, but not like the others. She wore no make up and had a perfectly framed face. Her skin was lightly tanned, she had a small snub nose, naturally long eyelashes and a fleshy mouth, which could wake a man’s lustiest thoughts. It was impossible to look at her lips and not to imagine how she would be going down on him.

She was the youngest among them, perhaps twenty, maybe less. She looked genuinely innocent, and at the same time, she had a wildness begging to be tamed. If she wasn’t here, among the girls who once were in the great King’s harem, I’d swear she was just a college girl full of dreams.

Again, it’s a mistake to judge a book by its cover.

I was frozen, completely entranced by her face and I couldn’t look away. She was the only one among them who didn’t offer herself with her gaze. On the contrary, she looked like she was in panic and that awakened my curiosity even more.

“This is Inaya, our yongest girl. She can read and write very well and is a great cook.” The eunuch limited himself to that.

I remained quiet, expecting he would list her skills as he did to the others, but that was all he said about her, leaving me with a desire to find out more.

“Man, they are beautiful.” Jeffrey was excited. “But that’s it? We don’t get to see the rest?”

“You can see all you want, gentleman, with the master’s order.” He looked at me and I shrugged.

I could just continue and despise that freak show. However, my curiosity to know a little more about Inaya was great, greater even than the phone vibrating in my hand with my secretary’s incoming messages, which I didn’t check.

With one order from the eunuch, who gestured very rudely while addressing the girls, they let their tunics fall and the colorful fabric collapsed to their feet. Their lingerie was decorated with faux jewels, just like the odalisques who performed belly dances wore, except for Inaya, who wore a simple lilac over the knee dress with laces. Despite her modest dress, she was the one that captured my attention as I strained for a glimpse of her well-defined curves under the delicate fabric. I couldn’t see much, but it was impossible to miss noticing her large breasts, small waist and her rounded hips, perhaps a bit too large, although no woman had ever looked so attractive to me.

“My God, this is what I call heaven.” Jeffrey said. He got up and went closer to the first girl in the line. “Hey, Mr. Eunuch, can I play with the girls too?”

“Of course. If the master allows.”

“Allow it, Jared. I really could use some fun.”

“He’s allowed to be with any of the girls.” I said, impatiently. “But not now, Jeffrey. We need to get back to work.”

“Man, I won’t even take five minutes. Then we can go back.”

He touched all the girls, who stayed side by side on the line with large smiles on their faces, clearly anxious about his choice. However, Jeffrey stopped in front of the only one who wasn’t smiling, Inaya. Her eyes went wide open and she panicked as he approached.

“I want this one,” he said, and her eyes widened even more. She was freaking out, but she said nothing.

She looked at the eunuch, like she was looking for help and, when he said nothing, her eyes appealed to me. What did she expect me to do?

“We have no time for this, dude. You can come back tonight and do whatever you want with her.” I’m glad she didn’t understand English or she would curse me forever because I was encouraging my brother to come back and do whatever he wanted to her. Despite her controlled silence, the expression on her face made it clear she was asking for help.

“I’ll will be quick, dude. I just want a blowjob. Look at that mouth.” He didn’t expect me to answer, and, without warning, grabbed her wrist and dragged her to the stairs while she surrendered, but appealed to the eunuch in her native language, looking desperate.

In that moment, I regretted not studying Arabic. I wanted to know what she was saying, and what seemed to be stopping her from doing what she was trained to do.

The eunuch started arguing with her in their language and I couldn’t understand a word. However, it was possible to understand he was reproaching her about something. Certainly, for resisting Jeffrey, who wouldn’t give up even though he realized she didn’t want to go with him.

My cellphone was ringing unceasingly in my hand but I didn’t answer it. I couldn’t stop watching that scene to see how it would end and whether the girl would continue to resist my brother or go to the room with him.

Jeffrey was near the stairway to the second floor, dragging her by the arm when she suddenly put her hand on her forehead and rolled her eyes, faking a malaise. Next, her legs failed and she fell on the floor for the second time since we arrived, only this time it was intentional, a fake collapse. She laid still on the floor with her eyes closed, faking unconsciousness. While Jeffrey stepped aside, scared, and the other girls ran to her help with the eunuch. They all believed her little scene.

The scene of a fake fainting spell amused me. It had been a long time since I smiled like that.