The Sultan's Slave

After the heat and noise of the marketplace, it is cool in the Kasbah. The stone is soothing under my bare feet, but my hands are still bound.

Used to the sun’s glare, I blink in the dimness. A rough hand shoves my shoulder. ‘Move, you’. The second guard runs a hand over my arse.

‘Nice’. They share a chuckle. ‘Maybe when the Sultan’s finished with you, he’ll give you to us’.

‘I said ‘Move’.’ The first guard shoves me again. I stumble, catch myself, flash an angry glance over my shoulder, and walk onwards.

They sneer at me, secure behind silk armour and curved blades. I know they’re watching, dreaming how they would use me… but they’ll never have the chance, and I walk tall, waving my hips at them defiantly.

A scurrying servitor stops us.

‘You have her?’ Repulsed by their leering response, he flicks sand from his forearm. ‘Come’.

We follow him, turning through opulent, tapestry-walled corridors and gathering stares as we go. Rugs are warm underfoot. In the lamplight, flashes of my skin show through long, silken rents. Torn almost to the hip, my dress parts with every stride and the slave-chain about my ankle glitters.

‘Here’.

A carven stone archway; a latticed door standing open. The air is scented, heady; it feels moist. As we come closer, a breath of sweet steam announces the baths.

I hold back a sigh. I am tattered and dirty and I long for the feel of soft water, clean skin and hair. At the baths’ edge, two slender, barelegged girls tend to a figure I cannot see.

I don’t know why, but my breath catches in my throat.

The guards grin; take up posts either side of the doorway. The servitor ushers me through the doors, closes them behind me. Awkward for a moment, I fidget – my hands are still bound and I feel oddly helpless – and the figure in the bath turns round.

He is young, dark-eyed, bare-skinned. He bears no mark of his rank, other than his self-assurance. He dismisses the girls with a gesture and looks me up and down.

Remembering who I am, I raise my chin, carry myself proudly. A smile flickers across his mouth and he gestures for me to turn around.

I turn for him, slowly, moving my hips and body in a way that makes his smile deepen. One of his girls approaches with a silken robe and he rises from the water, comes to look at me more closely.

‘You’ve had some adventures, I see.’ With a finger under my chin, he turns my head, one way and the other, and then picks up a strand of my tangled hair with amusement. ‘I want my women dirty, but…’ He flicks his fingers. ‘Maia, get her cleaned up and bring her to me. And I want her still tied.’

‘Yes, my Lord.’

Before he goes, he runs one hand across my shoulder, all the way down my flank to rest on my buttock. He feels its firmness for a moment; this close, he smells musky, warm, and I know that I’m trembling.

His eyes burn. ‘You’re going to please me,’ he tells me, ‘in every way possible.’ Then he turns and walks away, flicking his fingers at the other girl to follow him.

I am left breathless.

‘Come,’ Maia says to me. ‘He will want you ready for him.’

The water is soft and silken. Maia has simply torn the shreds of my dress from me and helped me down into relaxation and warmth. Still reeling from the closeness of the Sultan himself, I am enjoying the touch of her strong, gentle fingers, cleaning the past weeks out of my skin and hair.

With a sly wink, she loosens the bonds on my wrists, letting me stretch my shoulders, then loosely ties me again. Renewed circulation pounds in my fingertips.

‘Comfy?’ she asks me.

I let my head fall back; my hair spreads out across the water. ‘That’s so much better.’

Her touch on my breast is not unexpected; her hands are agile and they feel good. Already half-aroused, I open my eyes and sit up. She settles across my lap, facing me in the water.

Her shift has soaked through, and I can see small breasts, dark nipples pointing hard through the fabric.

She smiles at me, then lowers her head and lefts my breast to her lips. Her mouth is moth-soft, her tongue smooth – she’s beautiful and very feminine and my hands close over her arse, pulling her to me. She sits astride me, hips grinding, as though I were a man.

I feel her breasts against mine, nipples touching, teasing. I am trembling now, more than ready to show this young maiden, this Sultan, what I can do—

Suddenly, she surges sweetly out of the water and stands over me, the shift tight to her breasts and belly, her slim legs parted. Her cunt is shaven, smooth and gleaming; her lips are parting and the soft skin between them is slightly flushed. I want to touch her very badly – but my hands are tied and she is just out of my reach.

Slowly, she runs her middle finger along her opening cunt, making me gasp. Then she parts her lips and her other hand guides me forwards.

She’s moist, as aroused as I am, tense with anticipation. My shoulders flex uselessly – I want to touch her! – but she rests her other hand on the back of my head and tells me it’s my mouth she wants.

I need no more encouragement.

Between my thighs, I’m burning, but I control myself and run my tongue, slowly, along the length of her cunt. She shivers. Again; a long, easy lap – I’m enjoying the taste of her excitement and pleasure. I feel her sigh; the sound makes my blood surge. Her lips are opening under my tongue, she’s wet, beautifully wet; she’s tilting her hips forwards, her hand is pushing me closer.

She tastes so good – the warmth and sweetness of the bathwater mingle with her own taste to coax me to lick her harder, to enter her with my tongue and to thrust it as hard as I can. Her hand tenses in my hair; my face is wet with her. I kiss her cunt, my tongue delving deeply, tasting as much of her as I can reach, then sliding back to run along both lips, now swollen wide.

My tongue reaches her clit, trembling and erect, flicks across it, side-to-side. She’s murmuring, now, ‘oh, yes, oh, yes…’ and I increase the pressure. I close my lips over it and suck, gently—

‘Maia!’

She jumps away from me, catching her feet and crashing backwards into the water. Under the archway behind her, the Sultan is not amused.

I am caught where I am. My face is wet and the sudden wash of nervousness only makes me hotter.

‘Well,’ he demands of her. ‘Is she any good?’ As he speaks, he opens his robe and his cock is full and hard. I find myself staring, wanting it very, very badly – he seems to catch my thought.

‘Not yet,’ he says, his eyes stroking my bare breasts. ‘Maia, come here’.

Maia’s hair is wet against her neck and shoulders, her soaked shift caresses her skin. Her eyes now lowered, she does as she’s told. She’s trembling. ‘I want you on your knees’.

As she parts her soft lips for that stiff cock I want so badly, the young Sultan’s eyes are on me, watching my face, my mouth. As if he can see straight into my mind, he makes a tantalising show of enjoying her sucking him; smiling at me, he murmurs in extreme pleasure.

I can barely sit still; if my hands were free, I would not be able to keep them off myself. My cunt is throbbing, my mouth dry; I catch the word ‘please…’ in my teeth and continue to watch as though mesmerised.

His smile deepens – he knows what he’s doing to me. He rests a hand on her wet hair and fucks her mouth; on her knees at his feet, she’s making small, animal whimpers of pleasure. From where I sit, I can see her firm, round arse and the dusky pink hue of her cunt.

Her scent is still on my skin.

‘Please…’ I’m not really aware that I’ve said it aloud. Still obviously enjoying his cock being so beautifully sucked, he says to me, ‘Stand up’.

I do so, water sheeting from my skin. His eyes caress me like a physical touch, he surveys my breasts, my cunt, my legs, openly enjoying the view. ‘Very, very nice,’ he says. ‘Come here’.

I cross through the water, still unable to take my gaze from Maia’s wet, open cunt, her beautiful arse, from the expression of extreme pleasure on his face. But as I reach him, he stops her.

She sits back on her heels, licking her lips.

He comes to the edge of the bath. His cock is barely a breath away from my face; he wraps a hand about it and strokes himself, chuckling at the ‘O Gods’ that I cannot help. ‘You want it?’

‘Gods, yes’.

‘You think that you can touch anything of mine without my permission?’

‘I… no…’

I look up at him – the game has suddenly changed. He’s moving away from the baths’ edge and back into a more secluded resting area, deep in cushions and silk.

‘Yet Maia is mine.’

‘I…’ I want nothing more than to touch and taste him, to take him in my hands and my mouth – I want to be fucked so badly I can barely keep still.

‘Out of the water, and kneel down here.’

‘Here’ is across a silk-topped wooden chest, my arse pointed towards him and my face back out over the water. Maia gives me a hand balancing, and I do as I’m told.

I feel his hands on my arse, stroking my wet skin; then, for a moment, the touch of his lips. I gasp, wanting more.

But, with a sharp ‘crack!’, a hand comes down hard on my flesh.

I jump, half-struggle, but I’m pushed back down. ‘Quiet, slut. You do as you’re told in future.’

The hand strikes me again.

This time I cry out, not sure if what I’m feeling is pleasure or pain. The contact is a shock, it sends ripples of heat through my buttocks and thighs; I can feel those ripples in my cunt, making me crave even more. No-one has ever done this to me before – not like this. Not and made me want to be struck again.

‘Is that good, slut?’

I am breathless, unable to answer, and the hand comes down on me again – harder.

‘Yes… yes…’

‘You want more? You dirty bitch, you’re enjoying this so much…’ ‘crack!’ ‘…you want more?’

I can only gasp. The hand hits me even harder – my arse smarts with the impact. Why does it feel so good?

‘Yes, please, I want more…’

I hear him chuckle, then I see him, moving round so he can stand in front of me, his cock still hot and hard. With a start, I realise that it’s not his hand.

‘Now,’ he says. He’s kneeling as he speaks, bringing his cock back towards my lips. ‘In a moment, I’m going to let you suck me.’ I am shaking with anticipation. ‘You’re going to give me the best head I’ve ever had. At any time, I can nod at Maia, and she will bring you pleasure or pain, as I see fit. Do you understand?’

‘Yes’.

‘Maia.’

Maia’s hand strikes my arse – this time hard enough to really sting. I cry out, shocked, but the burn is intense; Gods its good. I see him nod at her again, and this time I feel her strong fingers slide into me, all the way.

‘Oh, my Gods…’

‘If you’re good,’ his cock is before me now, his fingers touching himself, ‘I will fuck you myself. If you’re not…’ he places his hand under my chin, lifts my head and rests the very tip of himself on my lips, ‘…I will make you watch me fuck Maia, and I will leave you frustrated and tied.

‘Now, you beautiful slut, show me why I scoured every market in the land for you.’

My mouth is dry, I lick my lips just as the tip of him passes them. Using my lips, my tongue, I caress him, coaxing him, wanting him to thrust deeper. His hands are in my hair; he thrusts forwards just a little, and I wrap my lips around him and begin to slide them back and forth, slowly, my touch light but my tongue curling around him as I pull him in.

His mutter of pleasure is extremely satisfying; Maia’s fingers gently, gently begin to massage the inside of my cunt. I desperately want to thrust myself backwards onto them but I dare not – the thought of her striking me again is both frightening and exciting.

Slowly, he fucks my mouth. His hands hold me in place, allowing me enough movement to run my lips and tongue up and down his shaft. His skin tastes warm and clean and very male; his cock is so hard I can feel the pulse beneath the skin. I run my tongue around his head as he pulls out, caress his glans as he thrusts slowly forwards once more. I’m trembling, I know I am, but I can’t help myself. I want this so badly.

‘Oh, yes, you bitch, that’s it…’

Behind me, Maia’s fingers are replaced by her mouth, warm and soft and strong. She rests her hands on my still-stinging arse, eases my cheeks apart, and her tongue runs between them, making me writhe with pleasure. I cannot speak, but I tilt my hips, silently begging her for more.

I hear her soft chuckle as her fingers penetrate me. She’s in perfect, synchronous rhythm with the cock that’s now thrusting harder, harder – right into the back of my mouth. The two layers of intense pleasure mix and overlay one another; I’m shuddering between them, lost in a figure-of-eight feedback that’s building to heights I’ve never experienced.

He groans, half-surprised, as my throat opens for him, then he begins to fuck me in earnest. I feel him beginning to lose control and I allow myself to follow on… Maia is kissing my arse, her fingers still fucking me. I can feel the beginnings of climax stealing over me—

‘Crack!’ With no warning, he’s pulled away from me; Maia’s hand has gone from pleasure to pain in a white-hot flash.

‘You want to come?’ His balls are tight under him, his skin is flushed and his voice husky. ‘You wait for my word.’ A second slap makes me bite my lip, tears springing to my eyes. ‘Maia, get out.’

‘I—‘

‘OUT!’

There is anger, assurance in his movements. He is on his feet, walking around me; I feel him behind me. Tense, I barely dare breathe.

The door snicks behind Maia as she goes. For the first time, I find myself alone with him, and the fear tastes like a thrill.

He kneels, runs his hands over my stinging buttocks. I feel his eyes; my cunt is so wet and swollen, I’m almost ashamed. He parts my cheeks, tastes me once with a murmur of appreciation…

…and suddenly, mercilessly, he slams his cock straight into me.

I cry aloud; the sensation is incredible. I’ve been teased and tantalised, piqued and punished; this is so welcome and so necessary that I am pleading with him not to stop, please, not to stop. He fucks me hard; I thrust myself backwards onto him, clenching my muscles…

He grabs my hair with one hand; with the other, he stings his fingertips off my arse. My reaction only makes him thrust harder; I’m begging him like a bitch – and Gods I don’t care. I can feel the climax rising in me – disgraced or not, there’s no way I can help it.

As I start to shudder, to flex, I hear him let out his breath in a long sigh of pleasure. I enjoy his climax so much that I can’t help myself, and I am coming with him and around him, my body spasming and bucking as he presses forwards into me.

‘Oh, my Gods!’

After a long, glorious moment, I collapse forwards over the box. Deftly, he undoes my hands, then falls forwards, his warm, strong body secure against my back. I stretch my shoulders, and he reaches to take my hands, hold me.

‘Now,’ he says, ‘You’re mine. You’ll do as I tell you, you’ll please me as I tell you, you’ll obey me whatever I order you to do.’

‘Yes.’

‘Then get back in the bath,’ he says, straightening up to his feet. ‘This was just a taster. I’ll send for you again in an hour.’

I am still gathering my thoughts as the door closes behind him.