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The new slave girl’s trembling hands barely brushed the cool marble as she was led into the inspection chamber. The heavy scent of incense mixed with the faint musk of leather and oil filled the air. She swallowed hard, heart pounding like a drum in her chest.nn“Do not flinch, girl,” barked Imam Halim, his eyes sharp beneath bushy brows. “We must see all, or you will suffer the consequences.”nnHer cheeks burned crimson as the Imam’s rough fingers traced along the curve of her hip, descending slowly to the place she least wanted exposed.nn“Your body will serve the Pasha well, I hope,” he murmured with a hint of something darker, eyes flickering with a dangerous hunger. “But first, the measurements.”nnShe bit her lip, fighting tears as the other Imams exchanged low murmurs, measuring and inspecting with unyielding scrutiny.nnSuddenly, the eunuch boy burst into the room, bamboo whip coiled in hand. His dark eyes gleamed with cruel delight.nn“Enough hesitation,” he sneered, advancing on the girl’s bare behind. “The Pasha’s pleasure demands obedience.” With a swift crack, the bamboo lashed against her skin, a stinging fire that stole her breath.nn“Shhh,” the eldest Imam commanded, his voice cold as ice. “Pain is a lesson, and you will learn quickly or be broken.”nnLater, in the sterile glow of Dr. Muzif’s chamber, the physician’s fingers moved expertly, cold steel gleaming as she prepared for the trimming.nn“Do not be afraid,” Dr. Muzif said softly, though her eyes held no mercy. “This is for the honor of the harem—and your place within it.”nnThe girl’s voice trembled. “Will it hurt?”nn“A moment’s sting, but afterwards, you will be perfect.”nnAcross the hall, whispers flowed like silk.nn“Old Leyla was trimmed last week,” a young concubine confided to another, cheeks flushed with excitement and dread. “They say even the matrons must be... adjusted.”nnIn the shadowed corner, Imam Halim caught a matron’s eye during a routine inspection.nn“A great responsibility lies in your body,” he said gravely. “A single fault could poison us all.”nnThe matron’s lips quivered. “I am ready for whatever the harem demands.”nnHe gave a rare, slow smile. “Good. Because we do not tolerate weakness here.”nnThe air was thick with tension, desire, and the unspoken truth: in this world, power came wrapped in vulnerability — and every inspection was a fiery test of submission and control. All models are 18
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