Date: Tue, 20 Mar 2007 05:18:32 +0800 From: Daniel M Subject: The Harem The following material is of a sexual nature, and therefore not to be viewed by persons under 18 (or 21 depending on your individual jurisdiction). The following material is also of a pederastic nature, though purely fictional. ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - ~ - Beau was escorted to a pair of enormous doors inlaid with golden designs. The guards whom escorted the young boy pushed the door open with the long, elaborate handles. Beau watched, unsure. The guard turned around and smiled at him. 'Don't be shy,' he said. He had a strong accent which was unfamiliar to Beau until only a week ago. The guards left, closing the doors behind them. Beau originated from France, and now he didn't know where he was. He was scared and alone, taken from his family in the dead of night, and wisked away to wherever he now stood. Beau was a beautiful young boy. His skin was white as porcelain, soft to touch, smooth and perfect like the gleam of a pearl. His hair was long, to the bottom of his ears except in the front, where it played across his brow, dark threads of silky brown to match perfect eyebrows arching over perfect, crystal-clear blue orbs. Beau moved with uncertainty, clinging to the sheer garment which he had been wrapped in. Beneath it he wore long bagging pants and a short vest closed in the front with clasps of pure gold. The chamber into which the youth stumbled was the most glorious and ostentatious he had ever laid eyes on. The guard told him this was one of the Sultan's more private chambers. There were high windows with ornate lattices, which somehow filled the room with light. The floor itself was inlain with elaborate golden patterns, and tiny cuttings of colourful ceramics forming shapes. The walls were decorated with all manner of plant and tiled wall hangings. In the centre of this chamber was an enormous, circular bath. The bath was filled with clear water from an urn held by another young boy. This other boy looked to be about Beau's age. He, however, was much calmer than Beau. He was wearing a beautiful, clear fabric just like Beau's. He looked up and saw his guest and smiled. 'This is Beau, Avel. Beau, this is Avel. He is from Greece, and he serves your soon-to-be master, the Great Sultan.' Avel smiled warmly and invited Beau over to him with a gesture. Beau wandered over to the boy named Avel. Avel was a beautiful young boy, as well. He had lighter, shorter hair than Beau's, but his skin was just as smooth and with similar clarity, and his face was just as feminine, however he had a certain air of masculinity about him which Beau lacked, however weak. Avel reached out and tucked a loose hair behind Beau's ear gently with his index and middle finger and smiled. 'Where am I?' Beau asked weakly. 'You're safe in the Palace of the Great Sultan. He'll take good care of you, I promise.' Avel nodded assuredly as tears began to well in Beau's eyes. 'Will I ever see my family again?' 'There'll be no need, Beau. The Sultan will care for you and love you better than any other could,' Avel assured him. Beau began to cry and the young Greek took him in his arms quickly and rocked him gently, soothing him with assurances that the Sultan would care for him. At that moment, as Beau's tears began to slowly subside, the Sultan himself made a flourishing entrance. Avel released the young boy and lowered himself respectfully to the ground, 'Great Sultan.' The Sultan waved his hand dismissively and began discarding his clothing. 'Avel, get up,' Avel stood obediently. 'Who is this?' he asked as he unwrapped his turban and stood, naked, over the bath. The Sultan was darker than both boys combined, but not quite the deep ebony hue of native Africans. His hair fell in long, dark curls around his strong, masculine face. His jawline was straight and perfect, he had high cheek bones and thick eyebrows crowning deep brown eyes. His body was full of detail, the slow and loping bumps and mounds of ropey muscles. He had wisps of facial hair around his jawline, which darkened along his chin and upper lip. He looked to be older than both the boys, perhaps in his late twenties or early thirties. 'Great Sultan, this is Beau. He has come to join us.' Avel said, smiling at his master. The Sultan nodded and immersed himself stomach-deep in the waters and waded out to the middle. Beau noticed his hanging manhood, and it's pendulous testicles moving with his thick, muscular legs. It was long, even when soft, and darker than the rest of his body. Avel immersed himsel into the water as well, which almost covered him fully. The Sultan sat down and gestured for Beau as well. Beau stared. 'Don't be afraid,' Avel said softly, turning to him as he unwrapped himself from the wet fabric. 'Just take off your clothes and come in. It's nice and warm. You'll get used to it, I promise.' Beau stared for a moment longer, and then, apprehensively, unwrapped himself from the sheer fabric. He undid the golden clasps and removed his vest, then dropped his pants and pushed them away carefully. Then he climbed into the water. The water was pleasant on his skin, warm and cool at the same time. He immersed himself in it and wandered over to where Avel had started to clean the Sultan. Avel, using a cloth he had acquired from the edge of the bath, rubbed the water over the man's naked back. Beau watched carefully. The Sultan looked at him, 'Get another cloth, and you will help Avel. This is your life, now.' Beau nodded slowly, not sure what to think or what to say. He waded to the edge of the bath and took a cloth which lay there, then returned with it under the water. He raised it up and moved behind the Sultan. 'You do the front, Beau, I can do the back,' Avel told him, smirking at his accident. Beau nodded and blushed, before wading back to the Sultan's front. The Sultan watched him evenly, 'Start from the top and move down,' Avel advised. Beau nodded and clumped the rag in his hand, rubbing it along the Sultan's sturdy shoulders. They felt hard and heavy under the boy's delicate fingers. Beau dragged the cloth down his thick arms, following the curves of his muscles and then reversing the stroke and moving it around the back of his arm. Beau did this, blushing all the while, and slowly he grew attracted to this man. Beau noticed his penis had swelled and was sticking straight out. He hoped that the Sultan hadn't noticed, and continued cleaning him, his blush intensified. He rubbed the tall man's barrel-like chest, crossing over each nipple and under into his hairy armpits. Beau cleaned his stomach and then stopped. Avel was standing back and watching him, as he had finished. 'N...now what?' Beau asked weakly. 'We clean the bottom half,' Avel said indifferently and returned to the Sultan's behind. The Sultan opened his legs and stretched them out, allowing access to his lower half. Beau gulped and blushed even more, if that were even possible. He slowly worked the cloth around the Sultan's manhood, underneath the water. 'Clean my penis, as well,' The Sultan intoned. Avel came around to his front and smiled at Beau, who looked back nervously. Beau stood uncertain for a moment. The Sultan grew impatient, 'If you won't clean it, Avel. Clean it. Beau, clean my legs.' Beau swallowed and stepped back, hanging his head. 'I... I'm sorry, Sultan... it's... it's just, I'm... I'm not...' 'Don't worry about it, just clean my legs.' Avel nodded at Beau encouragingly as he bent down and cleaned the king's penis. When they were both done, they stood back and awaited further commands. The Great Sultan stood and waded to the edge of the bath, sitting on it's middle level and relaxing, 'Bring me fruit and wine, Avel. Beau, come here and sit by me.' Beau moved over to the Sultan as Avel left the water and wrapped himself and left to fetch the fruits and wine. Beau sat on the ledge beside the Sultan. His head came up to the king's chest, which was completely out of the water even seated. The Sultan stretched his arms up, and brought his elbows to rest on the ledge, his left arm resting behind Beau's head. The Sultan exhaled deeply and his fingers gently teased Beau's shoulder absent-mindedly. Beau flinched and stared. 'Sultan sir... where... where am I?' Beau asked timidly, looking up at him. The Sultan returned his look, and smiled. 'You are here, in my palace, beside me. You are safe, don't worry.' He said and did something unexpected. The great king leant down and, ever so gently, to Beau's surprise, he kissed him softly on the lips and smiled again. 'My name is Nijad, but you will call me your Sultan.' Beau nodded slowly, licking his lips to savour the taste of his Sultan's sweet kiss. 'Why am I here...?' Beau asked again. The Sultan smiled again, this time looking straight ahead, 'You're here as my wife.' Beau blinked, unsure of what that meant. How could he be a wife? He was a boy. 'I know what you're thinking. You all think that when I say you're my wife... I mean it by station. You are not in essence my wife, as that would require you being a woman. You're more a favoured servant... Do you understand?' 'Not really...' The Sultan laughed. Beau shrank a little, embarassed, but Nijad's arm closed around him, his forearm dangling over Beau's shoulder. 'Don't worry. In time, you will.' He said. Avel returned with a golden bowl on his head, a goblet in one hand and an ornate pitcher in the other. He set his Sultan's drink down beside him and took the bowl off his head and set it down. Avel unwrapped himself again and slid into the water, Nijad watching closely as his smooth, caramel-coloured skin was distorted by the clear water. 'Here, Sultan,' Avel said softly, pouring wine from the pitcher into a goblet and handing it delicately to his king. The Sultan swigged at it greedily and handed the goblet back empty. Avel plucked a grape out of the bunch and fed it to the Sultan delicately. The Sultan chewed it, and maneuvered his other arm to encompass Avel as well. 'Sultan...' Beau said timidly, 'May... may I eat...?' The Sultan looked at him, slightly taken aback. Avel stopped and stared. Beau shrank away with both of them staring at him, a fierce blush covering his face. 'I- I'm sorry...' 'Well... it's okay. You must be hungry. Avel, feed him.' Avel nodded and handed Beau some fruit. Beau took them timidly and began to eat, still a little embarassed. When the Sultan had finished eating Avel left with the bowl. The Sultan looked to Beau and smiled. 'Beau, there is another task I would ask of you.' 'What is that, Sultan sir...?' Beau asked, a little afraid. 'Come with me.' The Sultan stood, remove his arm from around Beau. He left the bath and wandered toward a door, before stopping and turning. 'Come on,' he said with a warm smile. Beau nodded and got up, walking after him, his small package even smaller from the water. The two of them walked into a darker chamber. The Sultan closed the door after them and smiled. This room's atmosphere was warmer and more humid, and there was a spicy sweet smell of incense. Thick rugs decorated the floor and the walls and a huge four-poster bed sat in the middle of the rear wall. On the bed were sheets made of rich silks and warm cottons. There were only two windows in this room, and very little gold. The atmosphere was more humid, and shaded. 'I was told you are an experienced slave?' Nijad asked as he set himself down on the bed, gesturing for Beau to sit beside him. It was true. Before Beau had left France, he had served as a prostitute in Paris. His family rescued him, however, when they moved to the country and bought a farm. 'Once...' Beau murmured. Nijad smiled. 'I would like you to have sex with me. Here.' Beau looked up at him, taken aback suddenly. 'Wh...what?' He stuttered, pulling away slightly. Nijad nodded and climbed further onto the bed, laying himself down and propping up his torso-half with a mound of cushy silk fabrics. Beau stared at his dormant penis. 'Come now, don't be shy. It's a part of your duties, Beau. If you want to live here in safety, you must perform your duties.' 'I... I...' 'Come,' He said simply, gesturing for the boy. Beau stared and slowly he thought about how attractive and how kind the man was. He hadn't hurt Beau at all, in fact he had only clothed and fed him, and given him a warm bath to bathe in. His family had afforded less than this grandeur. 'Come,' he repeated softly. Beau nodded slowly, and crawled on all fours to his Sultan. He climbed between his legs and crouched low. He lowered himself as flatly as he could, and with one hand lifted Nijad's penis. His penis was heavy and thick. Beau's fingers were barely able to cover the whole circumfrence, stopping a few mere centimetres short. The french boy's powdery rose-coloured lips parted softly, giving way to his perfect pink tongue. His tongue touched to the flesh and the Sultan nodded slowly, urging him on softly. Beau licked at the head of the penis slowly and testingly. He felt the man's penis begin to slowly rise. Beau parted his lips wider and slowly slid them onto Nijad's penis, working his way down by wiggling his lips around the penis, then sliding off slowly. He picked up a rhythm, sliding his prepubescent lips up and down the Sultan's fleshy, royal penis. Firstly he moved slowly, to enhance the sensations, and eventually he picked up pace. Nijad's head lolled on his shoulders and he began to move his hips up and down, forcing his penis deeper into Beau's mouth. As his penis reached it's full legnth of nine inches, Nijad was fucking Beau's mouth twice as fast as Beau was blowing him. With their speed combined and Nijad's efforts to penetrate deeper into Beau's throat, they managed to get three quarters of the way in, the head of Nijad's penis massaged by Beau's contracting throat. The heat in the room seemed to escalate as Nijad face-fucked the youthful mouth of porcelain-skinned Beau. Beau's hair began to lift slighty as both's speed increased. Nijad slowed suddenly then relaxed, but Beau continued, not sure whether he was meant to stop as well. 'As you were nervous, I will not fuck you today, okay?' Beau stopped for a moment and slid off Nijad's cock. He looked at the Sultan and the Sultan looked back, smiling at the most perfect scene of his beautiful wife's face beside his throbbing erection. He lightly slapped Beau's face and grinned. Beau flinched and blinked at him. 'Suck my balls, now,' He said, pulling his penis back and presenting his balls. Beau nodded obediently and gently cupped the Sultan's heavy ballsac. He kissed them gently, burying his nose in the king's pubic hair, as he kissed and sucked on the egg-sized testicles within their sacks. Nijad began to slowly masturbate himself, breathing heavily and raggedly, he sped up as the sensation of masturbation filled him and his balls being pleasured by the boy's young mouth. His testicles tightened suddenly and Beau took one into his mouth completely and jostled it with his tongue, whilst sucking at the same time. Nijad's penis burst hot white cum onto his stomach in ropes. One of the strings reached onto his chest, as he unleashed a mighty moan from his chest. His body tightened and Beau felt it as the left-overs of his cum dribbled down his mighty swollen man saber. Beau withdrew from Nijad's testicles and looked at his king. 'You did well, Beau. Better than I expected,' he smiled warmly and gestured for him to come over, 'Drink the remainder of my cum. You rest with me for the rest of the day.' Beau nodded and lapped up Nijad's cum obediently, then lay beside him. His strong arms surrounded the boy's narrow shoulders and he held him close for warmth and they both closed their eyes and fell into slumber.