Fiona finds the Topkapi Palace

Fiona dropped down onto the other side of the palace wall, and held her breath.

She could hear the shrieks and the mocking laughter in the streets of Constantinople, on the side of the wall she’d just come from, as a mob of squealing, hysterical nude women were pursued through the bazaar and alleyways and hookah bars by a crowd of laughing errand boys, all of whom seemed to be carrying small portable cameras. No doubt the girls would find themselves in all manner of humiliating predicaments as the day went on. Cornered by the errand boys, trapped in barrels, **** to work as belly dancers, covered in syrup and pistachios by baklava makers, and so on and so forth. But at least she, Fiona, was out of it.

She was still naked, of course. First order of business was to find some clothes. After all, thought Fiona, as fifteen naked women came strolling through the green palace gardens towards her, sunlight playing on their skin, chatting and laughing amongst themselves as if they hadn’t a care in the world, a naked woman here in the Topkapi Palace ought to be fairly conspicuous. It wasn’t like the place was full of… wait a minute.

One of the naked women, a tall African girl with skin of deepest ebony, glanced at her and said, in a friendly tone, “Haven’t seen you around here before.”

“Er,” said Fiona. “No.”

“Well, come along then. We’re all going for a swim.”

“So,” said Fiona, falling into line among the naked women as if she’d been there all along. “We’re, um… all naked, I see.”

The African woman, whose name was Amani, gave her a startled glance. “Well, of course.”

“And that’s normal for us, as I know.”

“It’s terribly freeing, isn’t it? To know that these high walls keep us perfectly safe from the prying eyes of men, and all the common folk. We can do as we please, secure in the knowledge that our honour is perfectly intact.”

“Yes, I too appreciate the situation you’ve described.”

“Sometimes, girls from the outside even sneak in to try and join us! But they’re always caught immediately and punished.”

“How so?”

“Spanking, and tickling, and bondage, and lots of little clamps and things like that.”

“No, I mean, how are they caught?”

“Well, they don’t know things that absolutely everyone here knows. They ask a lot of prying questions to try to figure out what they’re missing, but it never works, and everyone always catches on immediately. And they try to join in group activities, but they’re never enthusiastic enough. And they always feel a little uncomfortable going around with no clothes on, no matter how much they try to hide it.”

“Isn’t the weather lovely?” said Fiona.

“Yes, it is.” The fifteen naked ladies had come to a large stone building with a domed ceiling, with no windows, and white steam wafting from portholes in the roof. Inside was a vast swimming pool, full of warm water, surrounded on all sides by the finest cushions and carpets, and perhaps three hundred more women of the most exceedingly beautiful sort, plus all their slavegirls and various attendants.

Some were lost in conversation, endlessly debating the fine points of philosophy or weaving elaborate intrigues for the discomfiture of rivals. Some played chess, or composed tunes on exotic stringed instruments, or sipped coffee and sherbet brought to them on silver platters, or simply lounged by poolside on their many comfortable cushions.

Every possible variation on female beauty was represented, from Celtic fire to Russian ice, from Brazilian ardour to Japanese grace. Fiona saw a full-breasted Polynesian wahine, a sloe-eyed Moroccan dancer, an Apache princess with a ponytail that hung all the way to her round bottom. Curvy blonde Poles, slim coppery Punjabis, tall proud Kikuyus, small cheerful Filipinos. She could not stop her eyes from wandering around the room, drinking in all the astonishing sights on display.

It is perhaps unnecessary to stress that every last one of these women was in a state of nature, clad only in the costume of Eve. But, for the avoidance of all confusion upon the issue, let the facts be stated in plain language. They were naked. Stark naked. Every last one of them. Breasts and bottoms and pussies everywhere Fiona looked. She had never seen so many naked women in one place before, not even in the showers of her old boarding school, or aboard the Orient Express.

She was just about to incriminate herself by asking some very stupid questions when Amani pushed her into the water, and jumped in after her. After a long, playful nude splash fight, the two happy girls hauled themselves out of the water and sat on the edge of the pool to dry.

“Well,” said Fiona, taking a gamble. “Here we are in the sultan’s harem.”

“Feels like a dream come true, doesn’t it? The only trouble is having to deal with that stupid sultan.”

“I quite like the sultan.”

“No you don’t,” Amani scolded, giving her a playful slap on the thigh. “He’s always doing stupid things like trying to have sex with us. Fortunately, he’s away most of the time, so we can enjoy ourselves as we please. But what do you think about the new Harem Mistress?”

“I haven’t met her yet.”

“It’s a peaceful life, lying around and bathing and playing nude sports in the gardens and talking about philosophy and secretly pulling all the political strings that control the Ottoman Empire, and so forth. But you’ve got to stay on the good side of the Harem Mistress. In the sultan’s absence, she’s endowed with all his power over us, and empowered to punish us in any way she chooses.”

“So if she doesn’t like you, she can make your life miserable. By the way, does anyone ever leave the harem?”

“How could we leave, silly? We’re not allowed any clothes. If we walked out the front door of the Topkapi Palace, all the common folk would see us naked! And then we’d be arrested by the guards, and thrown in the dungeons, and then the spanking and the bondage and the clamps and so on.”

“I see,” said Fiona, thoughtfully. “Are you ever allowed to go on trips away? Say, to Hong Kong, or places like that?”

“What on earth are you talking about, dear? You know the answer to that as well as I do. Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d almost think you were… wait a minute.” Amani had caught a glimpse of somebody coming up behind her. “Here she comes now.”

“Who does?”

“The new Harem Mistress. Stand up straight! This is the perfect opportunity to meet her.”

Fiona rose to her feet, turned around, and saw the Harem Mistress, resplendently clad in a robe of sheer purple silk with highlights in gold. Her status as the only clothed woman in the room made Fiona, naked, feel very self-conscious all of a sudden. The Harem Mistress smiled, and allowed her gaze to travel all the way from Fiona’s face to the tips of her toes, and all the way back again, before she spoke.

“Hello, Fiona,” she said.

“Ah. Hello, Lady Evelyn. So nice to see you again.”