Date: Thu, 18 Aug 2016 08:59:25 +0000 (UTC) From: simon peter Subject: The Prince and his Harem Part 10 Dear Reader This story, like many of my other stories, has elements that are based on real personal experiences. However, the names and places are all fictitious. If you feel like sending me a comment, negative or positive, please do so: simon23232@yahoo.com I would love to read your comments and suggestions. Also, very importantly, please donate to keep nifty going. Thanks. Simon The Prince and his Harem Part 10 By Simon Peter "I met one of your friends, Uncle, when you were away," Hamed told Sheikh Nahed as they lounged in Nahed's villa, listening to music, nibbling on fruit, and watching the sheikh's boy-harem perform naked in front of them. "Oh?" Nahed sighed, his man cock tenting in his white robe as he watched one of the boys hump another, doggy style. He loved to watch cock penetration, the initial act of stretching the hole with the glistening knob just before it is sucked inside by the rim muscle. And the boys did it just as he liked. "Sheikh Ramzi," the young prince said, a smirk on his face. He wasn't watching the action; he was watching his uncle's face. The sheikh took his eyes off the fucking boys with difficulty, gazed at his nephew, noticed the smirk, and nodded. "That was some time back," Nahed admitted to the prince, returning his gaze to the fucking boys on the Persian carpet. "Ramzi had just turned 16 and I was maybe 18 or 19. We were swimming in the gulf and Ramzi slid between my legs and grabbed my crotch, the bitch!" Hamed laughed at that. He tried to picture a younger uncle in swimming trunks, grabbed in his crotch under water. "And that was all?" Nahed laughed. "No, boy. I grabbed Ramzi by the hair, took him to a nearby shack and fucked his virgin ass. He was sore for days and couldn't walk straight. But he came back for more. And I gave him more." Hamed snickered, fully aware of his uncle's big cock and his hard fucking. He imagined sleazy Ramzi writhing under his uncle, split in half by Nahed's cock, screaming and moaning and begging for more. The sheikh's front was definitely tented with his erection, what with memory of fucking Ramzi and the naked boys in front of him. He motioned to one of his boy slaves, who immediately crawled on his hands and knees, lifted the sheikh's robe, and slid up underneath it to the crotch. The boy's head bobbed up and down under the robe as he brought the sheikh to orgasm with his mouth. Hamed's heart went out to the poor boy being used, no, abused in this way. "He invited me to his place," Hamed said, pausing for his uncle to regain his normal breathing after his ejaculation inside the slave's mouth. "You should go, definitely," Nahed instructed his nephew. Ramzi is Minister of Interior. He can be very useful. And he loves big cocks. Ever since I broke his ass, he will not settle for less." The young prince scratched his head, "But Uncle, I don't think I could fuck Sheikh Ramzi. I mean, he turns me off, totally." "Boy, listen and learn. An ass is an ass, always to be fucked. You have an asset you should use to your benefit, not only for pleasure. Use it! Make Ramzi happy under you and he will return the favor tenfold. Don't ever show your true feelings to men like Ramzi. The bastard can be quite vengeful if he feels that you detest him. Fuck him. Fuck him hard and long. Your gain." "Sheikh Ramzi asked me to get Imre with me when I go visit," Hamed said with a sigh, knowing that his uncle was right. "Imre? Who is Imre?" Nahed asked with raised eyebrows. Hamed bit his lip at the slip. His uncle had no idea that he treated his slaves as people, as companions. Masters did not learn the names of their slaves. To Sheikh Nahed and his likes, slaves were lower than normal people. But the young prince had learned to appreciate the boys that were paid for to be his slaves, his boy-harem. He had a standing agreement with the boys that when they were alone they would be companions and friends, but in front of others, especially his uncle and Omar the eunuch, the boys would act as slaves and he as their master. "The slave I bought at The Party when you were away. Uncle, this slave has the dick of a donkey." "Then by all means take him with you. Let him fuck Ramzi. Make the minister happy and he will be in your debt. The slave has a donkey-cock, you say? Why haven't you brought him to me?" Sheikh Nahed almost drooled. Hamed was jealous to offer any of his boys to his uncle, but he couldn't refuse Sheikh Nahed who was more of a father to him since his own father had died in a car accident a few years ago. "I will bring him to you, my uncle. I thought that you didn't appreciate black boys, seeing that none of your slaves is black." Nahed sighed at his nephew's innocence. "Young Hamed, again listen and learn. A cock is a cock. What matter if it is black or white or red or yellow? Bring him. I want to sample him." "Yes, Uncle," Hamed acquiesced. "Omar told me that you offered a huge sum of money for this black slave," Nahed eyed the prince. "Oh, Omar," Hamed said disdainfully. The eunuch had a big mouth. He told his uncle everything. "Yes, Uncle," Hamed confessed. "I decided as soon as I saw him naked." The young prince would never admit to his uncle that he had not been willing to pay so much money because of a huge black cock. He had done so out of pity for the boy. For some reason, his heart went out to the black slave as he stood like a statue under the spot lights, naked, prodded mercilessly by the vicious slaver, and ogled by tens of sleazy eyes. "You are getting wiser, my boy. I am proud of you. And the way you handled Ramzi. That was also wise. I know you will soon make a responsible and smart prince." Hamed beamed. He called Omar over and instructed him to go and fetch Imre. "Strip," Sheikh Nahed ordered the black boy as he entered the hall, followed by the eunuch. Imre glanced at Hamed. The prince nodded to his friend. Imre stripped. "Approach," Nahed said, his breathing going faster as he contemplated the black satin skin and the snake-like cock hanging low over boy balls. Imre approached, again glancing at his friend. Hamed smiled and nodded, giving Imre a quick wink. The sheikh touched the boy's flaccid cock, running his finger along the length and around the circumcised knob. "Good purchase," he told his nephew without taking his eyes off the black boy. Sheikh Nahed let go of Imre's cock, which remained soft. "Turn around." Imre turned around. Nahed reached for the boy's ass, feeling the cheeks, fuzzy and firm, sliding his hand inside the crack. Hamed badly wished that he could slap his uncle's hand away, but he controlled his urge. Sheikh Nahed turned to Hamed, as he fingered Imre's ass. "Yes, this is good. He is tight. Makes for excellent fuck. You are learning, my boy. Are you having fun with this slave, then? Is he milking you rod with this tight hole?" "Yes, Uncle. He is good," Hamed whispered, his face turning beet red. "Put on your robes," Nahed ordered Imre, withdrawing his hand. Imre gave the slightest sigh of relief and quickly dropped his dishdash over his head, covering his nakedness. "I have no taste for black stuff," Nahed finally said. Hamed smiled, remembering his uncle's advice a short while ago: A cock is a cock! But his stomach quivered at the invitation of the minister and his sleazy looks. He would have to explain things to Imre and the other three boys in his harem. He needed to juggle things, to play people against each other to his benefit. Master Hooman, the 75-year old Indian tutor who gave Hamed lessons on philosophy and human character had always told him that it was not difficult to make sure that one's own assets were to gain oneself, not others, but Hooman added that cruelty had no place in such gain. "Master," Hamed asked the Indian tutor the next day. His friends were not attending. Master Hooman always preferred to give Hamed his lessons alone. "Why are there slaves?" "Young prince," the Indian said with a smile, "there will always be slaves. In many forms and in all societies. In some cultures in the West, where they claim to have abolished slavery, their people are slaves nevertheless: slaves to their politicians, to their television sets, to their sports, to their children. There are slaves everywhere." "But Master," the prince pondered. "Isn't this different, my uncle's boys?" The Indian shook his head wisely. "It is how you treat others, Highness, which makes them slaves. Do you treat your boys in the same way your uncle does?" "No," Hamed acceded, closing his eyes and nodding. "I understand, Master." Master Hooman smiled at the young prince. He was thinking that this young boy would surely become someone special. He didn't need to spell out things for him. The young prince was sharp. Later, Hamed held a special council with Igor, Ivan, Rasheed and Imre, his boy-harem. "Be honest, boys," he started. "Who would like to leave here and go home?" The four boys gazed unbelievingly at the prince and then at each other. "Is this some kind of game, Hamed?" Ivan asked. "No, Ivan. This is not a game. If you had the chance to leave now, would you?" Ivan shook his head, not hesitating. "No, I wouldn't, Hamed. I have a good life here with you and the guys." The other three nodded their agreement. Hamed scratched his head. "But wouldn't you like to at least go visit? Your parents? Your family and friends?" Igor laughed out loud. "My own father sold me, Prince," he smirked. "He sold me! My own father!" Hamed detected some wetness inside Igor's eyes. He nodded. He understood. Igor's father had raped him before he sold him. Hamed was his master but he had never raped Igor, or any of the other boys, had never mistreated them, had become friends with them. They filled his days with companionship, and, yes, sex. Hamed pulled Igor to him and hugged him, and then he held the Hungarian boy's head between his hands and kissed him tenderly on the mouth. He could hear Igor's moaning into his mouth as their tongues met, their young bodies shaking with emotions. The air in the tent thickened as emotions turned to lust. Rasheed leaned over to kiss Imre and Ivan proceeded to get naked and to seek a hard cock to suck. Five boys in tight embraces. Five boys in love. Five boys in heat, fucking and sucking as equals. It had been almost a year since his 14th birthday. Hamed would become 15 in two weeks. He had arranged for presents for his friends on this occasion. His own present was the way his life had changed. He realized that he was maturing. He was now more than ever before convinced that the cock did not make the man. All men had penises, hadn't they? He should ask Master Hooman about this: the old Indian should know! For each boy, Hamed opened a bank account, separate from his. Slaves could not open bank accounts naturally. As a member of the royal family who had reached the mature age of 14, the prince could open any number of accounts with no questions asked. In each of the four separate accounts, Hamed would deposit a sum of money at the end of every month. No one knew of this arrangement. Not his uncle. Not even the blabbering eunuch. He would include an extra hefty bonus for Imre if Imre's cock ended up in Sheikh Ramzi's ass. When he told his friends about the bank accounts after making them promise never to tell anyone about it, they cried. Imre bent and kissed his feet, covering them with his boy tears. "I love you, prince," Imre heaved. "With all my heart. I love you." Imre slid on top of Hamed, both boys instantly erecting. With their robes hitched up to their waist, they ground they bodies against each other. Imre slowly penetrated the prince's ass, his thick lips covering Hamed's, kissing him passionately. Hamed accepted the searing pain as Imre's monster cock invaded his body, but he relaxed and stretched his rim muscle and sucked Imre's cock into his body. He loved Imre so much; he loved all four of his boys so much. Robert? Who the fuck was Robert? The prince and his black slave made love slowly, the three other boys watching, silently, in awe at the passion streaming though the two fucking boys. Imre's hugeness filled Hamed to the utmost. Hamed must have ejaculated without realizing it, for when Imre raised himself on his hands, there was semen all over the two white robes. Slowly, Imre withdrew. His black cock dripped with pre-cum, throbbing, majestic. He gave it a few strokes and exploded on Hamed's body. The first squirts hit the prince's face and the rest mixed with the prince's spent juice. Ivan kneeled between Hamed's legs, which were still stretched out, and lay on top of his prince. Ivan's cock found Hamed's wet and twitching hole. He slithered inside the young prince without much difficulty. With more rubbing on Hamed's cock as he fucked, Ivan made the prince shoot his second load, his cock pressed between the two of them, his ass burning and filled with cock. As soon as he felt close to ejaculation, Ivan slid out and shot his load all over the prince, just like Imre had done minutes before. So did Rasheed. So did Igor. The boys shot their loads with tears streaming down their smooth cheeks. It was as if they had totally surrendered to their prince, their lives, their souls, squirting out of their balls, in hushed silence, almost as an action of prayer, offering their prince the juices of their love and fidelity. "For fuck's sake," Hamed sat up, semen covering his face and all over his body. "This was some shower you gave me, you little shits. But why the fuck are you crying like women?" They definitely weren't women. "I think that maybe the four of you are not nearly enough for me," Hamed sneered, as he stood up, dripping cum. "How about a fifth? It's been months since we added someone." "What?" Igor asked. "Do you want to buy another slave?" Hamed nodded. "This is such a fantastic idea," Imre smiled, to the surprised looks of the other boys. "A slave who is living like a prince! You are not buying a slave, Hamed. You are saving an unlucky bastard and giving him the best life ever." "The problem is," Hamed commented to the boys, "that I can't take you with me to The Place. It could be traumatic for you. Besides, it wouldn't look right. The reason why we can be friends and lovers and companions is because no one knows about our arrangement. Everyone believes that you are my boy- harem just like that of my uncle." "I have an idea," Rasheed said. "Why don't you have Sheikh Fahed send you the portfolio of a few boys, and then have some kind of virtual meeting on the net? This way we can all examine the possibilities and give our opinions." "How about another African?" Imre suggested. "No way! Another Turk," Rasheed countered. "There are already two Hungarians." "Shut up," the young prince laughed. "I will decide. I am your prince." The four boys dropped to their knees suppliantly and bowed. "Yes, Master," they said in unison, laughter filling their young voices. "But we fucked your ass, Master," Imre added. All of them burst out laughing, rolling on the Persian carpet, just like the normal teenage boys that they were. The bout of sex that followed was no boy-sex, however; it was an all-man orgy, to be remembered for ages, to be cherished. There was no particular position, no particular entry, no particular body member that was spared. The next day, sore and exhausted, Hamed sent Omar over to The Place with instructions. The five boys waited impatiently for the next member of the prince's harem.