Arabian Days

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A paladin goes looking for a harem in Agrabah.
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Disclaimer: All characters are 18 or older.

Tatsu is an OC from World of Warcraft. Dahlia and Iris are characters from the game Princess Trainer. Flea is a non-specific OC. They belong to their respective owners.

A warning: this tale is a little more extreme than most: Contains yard-long cocks, extreme stomach bulge, cumflation, a bit of gape, rough sex, dirty talk, and magical impregnation.

*****

"Arabian nights~ / Like Arabian days~ / More often than not / Are hotter than hot / In a lot of good ways~!"

*****

"Pretty lady, buy a pot! No finer pots in brass or silver!"

"Sugar dates! Sugar dates and fiiigs~! Sugar dates and pistachioooos~!"

"Would the lady like a necklace? A pretty necklace, for a pretty lady..."

"FRESH FISH! WE CATCH 'EM, YOU BUY 'EM!"

Voices washed over one another like the pounding surf, a new voice rising to crash over the listener just as the previous voice faded. Some pleaded and promised, some sang sweetly, some were soft and smooth, others booming and proud. A hot wind carried the voices together, gathering them together into a wordless murmur pierced by the occasional sharp call. A dozen figures roamed lazily through the sun-baked street, male and female alike draped in flowing cloth to keep the worst of the baking sun off them as they go about their business. Colorful canopies of cloth on each of the dozens of stalls offered alluring pools of shadow that promised respite from the afternoon heat, but made one a target of the merchant's more aggressive sales pitches. Some figures strode calm and unflinching through the bazaar, others darted this way and that with childish wonder, some bore baskets heavy with freshly bought goods, and others haggled passionately over each and every coin.

A single, unassuming figure broke away from the marketplace, a dull, patched brown cloak concealing every feature, the hood pulled low enough to cast its face in deep shadow. The figure stepped quickly over the hot earth, keeping to the shadows where possible as it made its way off the main road to quieter streets. Finding itself on an empty street, the figure paused. The low hood turned this way and that to make sure it was truly alone. Seeming satisfied, the cloak parted, revealing the form beneath. A lithe, feminine body, completely bare, with soft tan skin, flawless but for a handful of scars. Her figure was petite, with smooth curves, her tiny waist making her hips and breasts seem larger. Her breasts stood proud, jiggling softly as she breathed, each the size of a ripe peach and capped with a dark, perfectly suckable nipple. The sensitive buds were hard as pebbles, the golden rings piercing each peak glimmering in the sun. Her hips were moderately generous, wide enough to support a tight, spankable ass, and marked with a tattoo, a silvery heart with an arrow below it, directing one's gaze south. Following the cue, one's eyes fell upon her smooth-shaven slit, her lips glistening with wetness, the shimmering juices paining her inner thighs with her arousal.

Her hands emerged from the cloak, one going up to push the hood back and reveal her face, the other squeezing tight around the neck of a stoppered jug of date wine. Iris was a lovely figure, with alluring features framed by wavy black hair, trimmed high enough to keep it off her shoulders. Her emerald eyes stared to the jug for a long moment, an expert application of eyeshadow making the catlike orbs pop, but could not conceal the long, straight scar that split one eyebrow and skipped down to continue its path down to her cheekbone. Her plush, red-painted lips slowly curled into a wicked smile, and she let out a sigh of relief, falling back to lean against the side of an adjacent building, her naked form entirely exposed. This was so wrong, so dangerous. If she'd been caught... Her heart raced with the possibilities her mind generated. Normally, they cut off a thief's hand, but they would give her a special punishment when they saw she was naked. The guards would drag her to some filthy alley, overpower her, pin her down as they pulled out their big, fat, filthy cocks. She'd struggle, but they would be too strong and too many for her to fight. They'd stuff their nasty cocks into her mouth, her pussy, even her ass, they'd use her, one after another, taking turns for hours as they used her slutty body like a piece of meat, and she'd cum over and over and over until she passed out...

Iris' body locked up when she felt a touch on her dripping, sensitive slit, and glanced down, only to realize it was her own wandering digits. She bit her lip as one slender finger slid up and down her wet lips, sending shivers of pleasure through her body. She desperately wanted to curl her finger and fuck herself silly on the empty street until someone heard her cries and gave her the deep orgasm she so desperately craved. But she pushed herself off the wall, and let the colak fall closed, the rough material rasping over her hard nipples as it moved, sending another spark to her needy pussy. She raised her hand to pull the hood down, pausing momentarily to lick the sweet juices off her middle finger before it returned to the depths of her cloak. She was on a job, if she didn't come back soon she'd get punished. All she had to do was make it to the Red Phoenix without getting caught, drop off the bottle and duck into her room to put her favorite toys to work. she'd be able to savor the rush when she got back, to dwell on her fantasies and desires until she got her release. Just a couple more streets, and then she could cum.

It seemed to be the longest walk of a few streets she'd ever experienced. Her pussy ached and throbbed with every step, every gust made the fabric tease her needy nipples, every gaze that fell on her made her heart skip a beat as she wondered if she'd been found out. But eventually, she saw the sign, the painted wooden panel swinging softly as it hung in front of the building. Her steps quickened, and as she reached it she darted inside. Wordlessly she ducked past the front, dropping off the bottle smoothly. She didn't want to catch anyone's eyes as she made her way toward her room, a delay now would be maddening. It seemed like a normal day, the familiar sounds of sex in the air, even in the middle of the day. But something bugged her as she moved toward her room. A half-step from the curtain that separated her room from the rest of the building, it clicked. Where were all the girls?

She cursed inwardly as she glanced around again. The place was empty. No girls, no customers... even the guards were gone. But she could hear someone having sex... she struggled internally for a long moment, curiosity and impatience warring in her mind. It seemed curiosity won out, when she found herself following the sounds of sex, hesitantly creeping through the whorehouse, eyes peeled for signs of danger. The gasps and moans grew louder and more frequent as she grew closer to the VIP room, soon she was able to make out the smacking of flesh on flesh, and the deep, forceful grunts of a mysterious male. Her eyes widened when she saw all six guards laid out in a half-circle around the entrance to the room, each knocked out cold where they lay. She swallowed nervously, but found herself drawn to the room, creeping up along the wall to peer around the doorframe just as a throaty scream of lust rang out.

The scene was chaos, a sort of sexual carnage, the aftermath of a lusty rampage of epic proportion. Familiar female forms were strewn around the room, bodies limp as they were draped over every surface, tables, chairs, pillows, there were even a few places where the girls had been stacked atop or across one-another. Most seemed unconscious, others were barely hanging on, moaning a writhing weakly. Each body was drenched in cum, gallons of seed painted over their bodies, and more doubtlessly hidden away, judging by the way each girl's belly bulged, slow rivers of spunk flowing out of their well-fucked pussies. Those still able to move seemed perfectly happy with the situation, their hands roaming their bodies slowly, sliding through pools of hot seed as they brought fingerfuls of creamy cum to their lips or stirred the messy flow pouring out of their abused slits. The fucked-out whores all wore the same expression of gleeful, unrelenting bliss, and each wore a collar. A thin strap of black leather, bound tight around the girl's neck and fastened with a silver buckle. At each girl's throat there was a silver plate, engraved with florid black lettering, and beneath the plate dangled a tiny charm, a silver hammer. All this in just a few hours...

In the middle of it all, a single man kneeled, an island in a sea of lust. He was a powerful figure, even on his knees, and likely would have stood six feet if he was on his feet. His skin was pale, clearly marking him as a foreigner. His body was athletic, toned and sculpted with firm, rippling muscles, his tight ass pumping as he drove his hips forward over and over again, a pair of small paw print tattoos on his ass drawing lines in the air as he pumped. The angle was such that she couldn't see much of what was going on, just his broad back and a curtain of mid-length black hair that shrouded his features as he looked down. Before him kneeled some amber-skinned slut, her own long, wavy hair hanging around her face as he pounded into her with immense force, her tits swinging beneath her as she moaned and cried with the force of his thrusts. Suddenly the stranger reached forward, one hand going to her head to seize a rough handful of her hair and give a forceful yank, pulling her head up as her mouth hung open, crying out with renewed passion as he drove into her with extra force. Iris' eyes widened momentarily and she gasped as she realized who it was. Dahlia, the cold, emotionless bitch-queen of the Red Phoenix, was moaning a screaming like a whore, her normally dour features twisted into a mindless expression of pleasure, her mouth hanging open, her eyes rolled skyward. She was getting fucked like a slut, and seemed to be loving every second.

She managed to catch the stranger's attention with her gasp, and he casually glanced back over one shoulder to face her. He was incredibly handsome, with a strong jaw and a face like a model's. As his chestnut-brown eyes fell on her, his lips curled into a warm, casual grin, his perfect teeth almost gleaming. He never stopped moving his hips, not even for a second, relentlessly pounding into Dahlia's well-fucked slit as she moaned, not even noticing his attention had shifted. Iris looking into his eyes for a long moment, and felt her tension melting away. He didn't seem dangerous, at least, not in the conventional sense. Something about him just drew her in. She realized she'd dropped her cloak, leaving herself totally naked before his eyes, when she slid around the doorframe to lean against the inner side, crossing her arms under her chest, looking more composed than she felt.

"Hey there." The stranger greeted, still grinning playfully. His eyes briefly left hers, blatantly scanning her figure with his gaze as she stood there, confidently exploring her curves before making their way back up to her face, still grinning. He was a cocky one, it seemed.

Iris arched an eyebrow, her own eyes carefully surveying him. "Hey, yourself." She replied, with a soft purr in her voice. She slid off the doorframe and strode through the littered bodies of the limp, fucked-out whores, carefully avoiding stepping on anyone she knew. Well... anyone who didn't deserve it, at least. She moved to circle him, keeping her distance as her eyes roamed him from each new angle. As she came around to face him directly, she found her eyes draw to his torso. His muscles in the front were just as impressive as his back, with a rippling set of eight-pack abs and powerful pecs, but what really caught her eye was the art. Starting just above his belly-button, black lines traced their way up, drawing the outline of a weapon's handle, a massive hammer's head sprouting from the handle and spreading across his pecs. The shape was broken by a thin line of silver chain, the gleaming strand connected at each end to tiny rings piercing his nipples. The way the chain softly swung, the way his abs rippled with each mighty thrust... it was almost hypnotic.

Suddenly, she realized she was staring, and tore her eyes off, glancing around the room for a moment as though she meant to. "I love what you've done with the place." She commented, somewhat dryly, still keeping her distance from the stranger as her eyes returned to his. In the middle of the room now, she couldn't help but note the smell of the gallons of cum painting almost every female form in the room. It was overpowering, but somehow, not unpleasant.

The powerful stranger chuckled and shook his head. He almost seemed not to notice he was in the middle of hammering Dahlia's pussy. He was like some sort of tireless machine. "Glad you like it." He replied, smiling. There was a pause, the only sound being the rhythmic smacking of flesh on flesh and the weak whimpers of Dahlia below. Suddenly he blinked, and seemed to realize something. "Ah, how rude of me! I never introduced myself. I'm Tatsu." He explained, gesturing to himself, then waved a hand around the room to the passed-out whores littering it. "And these girls have just joined my harem." He explained.

Iris arched her split eyebrow at that, somewhat surprised. "Iris." she replied, giving her name almost automatically. His story seemed difficult to believe. He was a hunk, and he certainly seemed to have plenty of staying power, but the entire whorehouse joining one man's harem? In just a few hours? It seemed unlikely... But then Dahlia gave a fresh cry of mindless lust, and Iris found her gaze drawn to the suddenly shameless ice queen, taking in her expression as her tongue rolled out and her eyes rolled skyward. She bit her lower lip slightly. If he was good enough to do that to Dahlia... Her eyes flicked up to Tatsu, her desire clearly illustrated by the hunger smoldering in them. She wanted a taste of that pleasures, and she didn't care if he knew. "Harem, huh? I don't suppose you've got room for one more?" She purred coyly.

Tatsu gave her a grin, flashing his perfect teeth in her direction once more, giving his hips a sharp, forceful thrust into Dahlia, making her scream once again. "But of course." He replied, casually hammering at Dahlia, abs rippling hypnotically. "I would never refuse such a tempting offer from a beautiful desert rose." He commented with a smirk, then suddenly grunted, face tightening slightly. "Sorry, I'm just about to finish with your friend here..." He explained, his composure cracking slightly as he tightened his grip on her hair and turned his attention to his conquest, redoubling his brutal pace.

Iris would have corrected his 'friend' comment, but she was silenced as Dahlia began to howl with pleasure, her body wracked with wild spasms as she came hard on the foreigner's cock. Iris chewed her lower lip. She'd never seen Dahlia cum before, the dusky-skinned seductress was always collected, sultry and calm, no matter what happened. Seeing the ice queen thawed out made her womb clench tight with desire. She crouched down, looking down to the broken whore with an unfamiliar mixture of disdain and envy. "Well, miss bitch queen? How's it feel?" She demanded.

Dahlia's eyes barely seemed to register Iris' presence, let alone her identity, but the words were pouring from her mouth freely in a moment, unfiltered by any shame or resistance. "BEST! Best fuck EVER! Best fucking COCK ever! Long, fat, hard, always hard! It fucked all of them! It BROKE all of them! It broke ME! Fuck, so DEEEP! Made me cum! Made me cum and cum and cum and CUM! CUMMING! CAN'T STOP CUUUUMMIIIIING!" She wailed, barely coherent, barely conscious as yet another orgasm ripped through her body, any further words lost into a high squeal as her pleasure peaked yet again, eyes rolling further up, tongue lolling out like a bitch in heat once more.

Iris's slit was dripping at the sight of the cold, emotionless Dahlia, and likely every other whore in the Phoenix, reduced to a multi-orgasmic slut by the stranger's skill. Her fingers roamed down her tight stomach, almost unconsciously, until they encountered her aching, needy pussy. She was horny when she arrived, and with this before her, she found she couldn't keep her need contained. Her fingers curled as she slipped to her knees, parting the petals of her tender slit and eagerly beginning to tease her lips, sending shivering jolts of pleasure racing through her body like lightning bolts. They began to thrust in time with the rhythmic slaps of his hips on hers, a pale imitation of the impossible fuck Dahlia was enjoying.

Suddenly, Tatsu's head rolled back, and a long, deep groan rolled out from his chest, his bac arching as he rolled his hips forward hard. Iris' eyes widened. Was he-? the question was immediately answered as Dahlia suddenly fell from her hands, her ass thrust high in the air as she moaned with a deep, primal satisfaction, the hand in her hair the only thing keeping her face off the floor as she arched her entire body with pleasure. In the momentary lapses in their combined moans and groans, Iris could hear the soft sound of a rushing river as oceans of seed rushed to fill the whore's womb with thick, potent cream. The two were still for what seemed to be an eternity, bodies arched against one another like a lewd sculpture, only their ragged, gasping moans and spasms pleasure revealing their true nature as living creatures.

Finally, Tatsu's head rolled forward once again, a satisfied smirk on his features. Still keeping his conquest aloft by his handhold in her hair, his free hand reached down, delving into a bag Iris hadn't noticed before. When it emerged, he held a black strip of leather, a collar exactly like the ones worn by the other girls. A long, slim strip of black leather, with a silver buckle, a blank silver plate, and silver hammer charm dangling just beneath the plate. He shifted his grip and touched the strip to the back of her neck limply. Suddenly, his eyes flashed, chestnut obs flashing a brilliant, glowing sapphire, bright enough to shine off the glistening sweat on Dahlia's back. The black strip came to life, coiling around her neck and buckling itself in place, the little plate and charm positioning themselves directly in front of her throat. As Iris watched, black lines etched themselves into the material, engravings that formed into letters before her eyes. "Dahlia" was written in large letters of flowing script, and below it, in smaller letters, formed a longer message, "Property of Tatsu". As his eyes returned to normal, he smiled, and slowly let the whimpering, trembling, freshly-claimed whore relax, lowering her gently to the floor before releasing his grip, her ass still propped high in the air, pressed tight against his hips, his shaft buried to the hilt inside her.

Iris's fingers were not enough. She needed to feel him, and now. She shuffled on her knees to the side of their encounter, eager to see him pull out from her. "Come on, big guy, show me what you got." She purred hungrily. He smirked, like he knew something she didn't. She almost wondered what, but at that instant she caught sight of Dahlia's silhouette. The ice queen's figure was a rival to her own, though she had a slightly wider hips and about a cup size on Iris. This morning, she'd been just fine. But at the moment, she looked six months pregnant. Her stomach was stretched, almost cartoonishly, by the sheer volume of thick, creamy cum Tatsu had pumped into her. Even more impressive, there was some sort of bulge, the gravid sphere of her womb deformed around a thick knob, pushing its way up until it almost reached between her breasts. Iris couldn't imagine what could do such a thing until she saw it suddenly twitch, and the realization hit her. His cock. He was so deep into her, he could have gotten a titfuck without pulling out.