Chosen

Omar looked at his silken harem girls. It was luxury, procuring these fine girls and importing them to his little corner of the world. It was a little bit like the horse industry in a way. Omar was midlevel compared to the sheikhs and oil barons and higher members of the royal families. But he was leagues beyond even the highest level pimp. The thoroughbred girls, those he traded to the big leagues for favors. The girls that didn't measure up, well, those were cast down to the minor leagues, again for a favor in exchange for bestowing whatever warlord or smut purveyor or religious hypocrite acquired with a quality girl.

He looked at Faith. He preferred when a girl came with a cuck or boy that could be summarily broken and shipped off to the most menial of labors. Douglas was too high profile for such a fate, but it was disappointing nonetheless. On the other hand, she was picking up Kendall's tutelage quite well, and the girls tried to pitch themselves as a combination to lure the attentions of Omar. Today, it worked.

"Kendall and Faith. Get yourselves scrubbed and be in my chambers in twenty," he ordered summarily. He'd see if Faith met the muster needed as a harem girl.