Johara (closed)

VelvetDarkness

Polysyllable Whore x
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This thread is closed to Marauder13.

Name: Johara
Age: unfathomable
Appearance: Petite and slender, see pic below.
http://fc04.deviantart.com/fs11/i/2006/259/8/e/Harem_Girl_by_sifu.jpg

~x~​

Thousands of years ago, in ancient Egypt, Johara had been awake... alive. As the sun set on the last day of the old ways, Johara was kneeling compliantly before Mustafa, a terrifyingly ruthless warrior who had overtaken the land by force.

Her father and brothers had been killed, leaving her the sole rightful heir, though she could only confer her rank onto a husband and remain powerless herself. Mustafa intended to marry her. That he was in his forties and she just a teen did not matter to him. Johara had been given time alone in her room to prepare herself, but she had other ideas. Her maidservant had been instructed to fetch Kahil, the young serving man she loved but whom her father would never have allowed her to marry. Johara drew him to her curtained bed and kissed him passionately, arousing him and undressing them both.

"You must take me Kahil." She gasped, as frightened of sex with him as she was about marriage to Mustafa. "He will never wed me if I lie with you."

Kahil knew it was suicide to touch Johara like this but he was too enraptured to care. Her slim, dark curves were being offered to him on a platter. He lifted her hips and placed her above his swollen manhood. It would hurt a virgin like Johara no matter what he did and there was no time for foreplay. Johara braced herself for the pain and pressed her virgin sex against Kahil's thick cockhead. It did not immediately yield and he winced at the pressure. His hands went to her hips but never connected with Johara's hot, quivering flesh. The next moment she was hitting the floor and Mustafa loomed over the bed, his sword rising in a sweeping, inevitable arc. Mustafa stabbed deep into Kahil's abdomen, sneering triumphantly as the young man screamed. Blood spattered from the bed to the floor and Johara, still defiant, smeared some on her inner thighs. Mustafa rounded on her as Kahil writhed, yelled and bled. He towered over her naked, kneeling form. Mustafa's cold eyes swept over her slim, tanned curves and fixed on the blood smeared over her glistening pussy. His lip curled in disgust.

"You stupid whore. You could have joined my wives and lived in luxury. So much for your dynasty, the great Sultan's legacy." He turned from her dismissively, beckoning one of the horrified servants as Kahil stilled and ceased breathing, causing an eerie silence. "Put this worthless slave in my chamber, under guard. I may yet have a use for it."

Late into the evening Johara waited, convinced that Mustafa intended to rape her. When he arrived however, it was with a slave bearing a bowl of warm perfumed water and the light, gauzy costume of a concubine or dancer. She was instructed to wash and dress and did so quickly, watching Mustafa warily. Despite the flimsiness of the costume, it felt good to be clothed once more.

"Do not look at me." Mustafa snapped. "And fear not for I have no interest in spoiled goods. I wish to conduct and experiment and you shall be my subject. If it works, I'll try it on a more worthy candidate. Kneel." He instructed. Johara, out of options, obeyed. He thrust a small, jewelled lamp at her. "Hold this. I wish to see if I can light it by magic. I have been training in this art."

She knelt compliantly as Mustafa walked around her, intoning words in a language she did not understand. Heat flooded her hands from the lamp and she nearly dropped it, clearly his spell was working. Suddenly, she became light headed and faint, as though there was no air. Then everything went black.

"Johara."

In a blinding flash of light, she awakened and could see. Johara was kneeling on the floor as before but there was no lamp in her hands. She glanced up and saw that Mustafa was holding it.

"Perfect." He cackled. "Such a beautifully appropriate name too. Johara, I want you to dance for me."

She remained kneeling on the floor, too afraid to stand while he stood over her. She glared at him defiantly, sensing that something was supposed to be happening.

"As I expected." Mustafa said enigmatically, with satisfaction.

"What have you done to me?" She demanded.

"Bound you." Mustafa replied. "You are immortal now but bound to this lamp. Rubbing it while saying your name summons you and you cannot stray more than 6 cubits from your golden prison. Usually, owners make wishes and a limit is placed on how many wishes a person can have but you do not possess the power to bestow wealth, beauty, or power like other genies do."

Johara glared up at him as her body continued to gyrate.

"You are a slave, Johara, a worthless little slave. All the owner of this lamp gets is you. They cannot command you to do anything but I have no doubt that they will force you. I imagine you'll be entertaining for a while but then interest will wane and you'll be sold to another... again and again... forever. Your owners will get old and ugly while you remain young and desirable. They will use your barren body and have your tireless little ass slave night and day for them. I almost wish I could be there to see it."

Mustafa watched the horror sink into the little slut's expression as she continued to dance. He rubbed the lamp again and held her stricken gaze as she disappeared inside it.

The following day, he sold the lamp to a passing merchant and thought no more about defiant little Johara and the fate he had bound her to.

But nobody summoned her. Johara remained unconscious as the lamp's successive owners all failed to rub it while saying her name; Johara, the Arabic for jewel. She was trapped, oblivious to the passage of time, her virgin body still untouched. She remained 18 years old as the world turned around her.
 
Allister Callum was slightly different to a number of his Victorian Gentry contemporaries. While they dabbled in the mystic realms, and thought it was an amusing pastime, Allister worked and researched the mystic arts because he knew that they worked. Thankfully, his archeologist father, who dabbled in a little tomb robbing, was also one who believed after witnessing such arts in use while in the middle east. He had taken to the mystic arts like a duck to water, and found a mentor who guided him far enough for his father to continue by himself. His father found many texts concerning spells and other mystical effects, and managed to discern the truth from them.

His father's passions rubbed off in him, and by the age of fifteen, Allister could routinely cast spells that would ease his efforts in dealing with people, and minor ones that would push chance in his favour. He used them sparsely, to minimize the backlash that would come from excessive use. Until he discovered that some items were imbued with powers, and they could be invoked with little fear of something ill happening.

Of course, the most famous of such items were the bottles, lamps and jars of the Djinni, or Genies as they were known to the common folk. These spirits, or demons as depicted in the Bible, were captured by Solomon, and bound by his Seal. They were housed in simple items, and certain limitations were laid upon each of the creatures to ensure that their 'evil' was limited. Of course, the means of how to use those imprisoned had to be recorded, so that people may find the means to make them pay for their evil ways. But he made sure that they would not be found easily, and that only the wisest would find not only the items, but also the means of bringing them forth.

But there was one spell he had that his father never had, and this made his ventures into the area of the mystic arts more successful that his fathers. He had the means of finding items that carried an enchantment of some sort or other. It could not tell him what the item would do, only that it contained an arcane power.

Some five years earlier he had come across an old oil lamp from the middle east, and it carried an enchantment. It fitted all the criteria for hosting a Djinn. He managed to secure it for nearly nothing. The merchant was trying to move it, and almost gave it to Allister. Allister had found the commands for three Djinn, but he never found the receptacles of the prisoners. This lamp didn't match any of the three. So, he commenced his search to find out about this lamp.

He had almost given up when he heard of a Djinn sealed in a Jewel. That was unique enough to drop his fruitless research to find out more of this unique application of Solomon's Seal. Within months, it turned out to be a false lead. The Djinn was called Jewel, and it wasn't sealed in a jewel, nor a gemstone. Though there was something indeed special about the Djinn, something that made it unique from it's brethren. There were hints, but nothing solid enough to work from.

One night, he was sitting in his working study, holding the lamp. Her peered into the darkness that was before him as his mind wandered back to the Djinn called Jewel. Absentmindedly, his fingers were caressing the lamp as he was deep in thought.

“Somewhere, there is a Djinn called Jewel who has been locked away for many years. So, I wonder where this Johara is?” As he voiced the question, his fingers continued to rub the surface of the lamp...
 
Johara appeared in a kneeling position on the floor. To her it seemed mere moments since Mustafa had imprisoned her. Her eyes wandered upwards to take in her surroundings. The furnishings were strange and the dress of the man seated in the chair before her was downright bizarre. He was ivory pale, quite different from the Egyptian and African colouring she was accustomed to. Her skin prickled and puckered with goosebumps, for she had come from desert heat to this cold room. So she was no longer in Egypt, nor any land she could name.

Johara had no knowledge of genies or how they were supposed to behave. She rose from her kneeling position unbidden and took a few steps backwards, away from the strange man regarding her with such fascination. He was openly admiring her breasts and the swell of her ass, covered as they were with an inadequate amount of gauzy fabric. She spoke in the old Arabic of ancient texts that spanned millennia.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The room and everything in it were so alien that it was claustrophobic. She had never seen bound books before, let alone the more modern items. Her eyes raked over her surroundings before being drawn inexorably back to the man holding her lamp. Who was he and what did he want from her?
 
Allister felt the disturbance behind him, and he spun around to be faced by a young woman dressed in little more than a few pieces of silk. He stared at her, trying to assimilate what had just occurred. He had been thinking of the Djinn going by the name of Jewel. He had been holding the lamp. He looked down, and saw the telltale signs of smudging on the sides. He had been rubbing it. Then he must have said the command word to release the Djinn locked inside.

"Johara.." He half spoke, half whispered. He looked at the lamp, then the young woman and he smiled.

"Who are you? Where am I?"

The accent was strange, but he made out the words. Her voice was lyrical, smooth as her body, and just as delightful. As attractive as she was in her outfit, he could see that she was cold. It was not something he thought would effect a Djinn, but then their imprisonment may have introduced a weakness, aligned them with the particular environment of the those that imprisoned them. Again, another facet to research.

He replied to her in the oldest dialect of Arabic he knew, "I am Allister Callum. You are in my home."

In his excitement he fell back to English. "A Djinn. I have managed to find one of the Djinn, and command her to my presence." He took a deep breath, releasing it slowly. He rubbed the lamp again, just using his fingers as he did the first time. With a small flash, she vanished. Allister's smile grew as he looked down on her prison.

He took the lamp with him, and moved to his bedroom, where the temperature would be more suited to his new house guest. At least, he would be able to find something warmer for her to wear if need be. He was a gentleman after all, and if the Djinn appeared to be cold, it would be callous of him to inflict that upon her.

He sat in a recliner near the fireplace, waiting until he felt the soothing warmth enveloped his body. He rubbed the lamp once more, speaking the name of the Djinn. "Johara."

There was a flash, and once more, she was kneeling before him.

"Stay. Stay sitting," he spoke in her language again. "Speak to me of your powers."
 
"I am Allister Callum. You are in my home."

His Arabic was accented but perfectly understandable. He had then reverted to his own speech, speaking almost as though she wasn't there.

"A Djinn. I have managed to find one of the Djinn, and command her to my presence." The language was strange to her, but Johara understood the meaning perfectly. She had been about to speak again but he rubbed the lamp and spoke her name. The light went out of Johara's eyes as she vanished from his sight, back to her lamp.

The next thing she knew, she was before the same man again but this time they were in a bedchamber. He was lounging on a recliner, perfectly at ease. Her lamp rested in his hands once more and she felt violated, knowing the control that it gave him.

"Stay. Stay sitting," he spoke in her language again. "Speak to me of your powers." He commanded imperiously. This was a man of wealth and rank who was accustomed to being obeyed, that much was clear. It was also apparent that he had no idea what manner of 'genie' he had acquired.

Johara raised her eyes to look upon him again, marvelling at his alabaster complexion and the strangeness of her surroundings.

"I have no powers. I am not genie. I am merely a cursed girl." When she spoke, though her thoughts were in Arabic, she spoke in his own tongue. It was very unsettling but after the initial shock, Johara persevered. "A rebel leader, Mustafa Al-Ibn overthrew my father's kingdom. He wanted to marry me and become a legitimate heir but I tricked him into believing I had been despoiled. In his anger, he bound me to the lamp. It was an experiment, because he had never attempted the spell before. I am afraid I have no powers as other genies do."

Johara watched with apprehension as the triumph left Allister's expression. His lips set in a thin, tight line and she dropped her eyes again, a bundle of nerves. Mustafa's taunts still echoed in her ears.

"They cannot command you to do anything but I have no doubt that they will force you. I imagine you'll be entertaining for a while but then interest will wane and you'll be sold to another... again and again... forever. Your owners will get old and ugly while you remain young and desirable. They will use your barren body and have your tireless little ass slave night and day for them."

What manner of man was she the property of now? Surely he could be no worse than Mustafa?

[Great work hon, but would you describe Allister a little please? You've made no mention of his age or looks. Thanks xxx]
 
Allister's good mood vanished at the words Johara spoke. Djinn were renowned for their trickery, but he was well versed in how they used it, and how best it could be countered. But he had to take her words on face value initially, until he had verified them.

He stood up and looked down on her. He was slightly taller than most men of the time, being 5'10" tall. He was slightly overweight, having spent a majority of his 30 years in libraries rather than outside playing sports. His dark brown hair framed a face that had a healthy pallor to it, which made his dark brown eyes look less menacing that they would have. He face was strong, with a good jaw and chin to round out his cleanly shaven face. The suit he wore was immaculate, and actually added to his appearance of wealth and prestige.

He stopped before her, putting his hand under her chin, lifting her to stand.

"I am not sure if I want you to be telling the truth or not, Johara. If you have lied to me, I know of ways of punishing you that will make what Solomon did you you seem like a verbal scalding.

"But if what you say is true, and you are merely a cursed girl... Then we will have to find some other way for you to serve your new Master." He slowly walked around Johara, observing everything about her he could. "Yes, I think you may be able to serve me just fine."

He walked back to the lamp, rubbing it and speaking her name. With a small flash, she was gone.

The information that Johara had given him enabled him to confirm her story in the space of two weeks. There indeed had been warlord by the name of Mustafa Al-Ibn who overthrew some petty kingdom in the middle east thousands of years ago. As was the manner of such mean, while he reigned, there was stability and growth. When he died, it all fell apart again. It took a little more work to find the details of the Dynasty he overthrew. The Sultan and his sons were all mentioned as they were part of the epic battles that Mustafa documented. There were vague references to the Jewel of the Sultan's house, references to a daughter, but she was never directly named, unless... unless her name was Jewel - Johara.

Once again, he was back in his bedroom, exactly two weeks after he discovered how to release her. Unlike last time, he was dressed in a silken robe his father brought back from the Orient. He had a pot of tea almost ready. The room was warm enough to be comfortable for the near naked girl when she appeared. Allister was ready to learn some more about the girl, and for her to learn more about him.

He put his hand on the lamp, and gently rubbed it while calling to her. "Johara." With the slight flash, she was before him again, kneeling in the barest of clothing.

"Good evening, Johara. You have been away for two weeks while I studied the ancient histories to confirm your tale. It is a pity, Johara, that you are merely a cursed girl, and not a Djinn. If you had been, you time as my Slave would have been much shorter, as you would have been able to repay me far quicker.

"But, that is not a problem for us. You have something I can make good use of. So to start with, remove those silks so I can see the body you were born with." His voice was stern, as was his expression as he spoke his first command to his new slave.
 
Johara trembled with shock and fear. Allister had referred to the time she came from as ancient history and that alone was traumatic enough. Now he was alluding to 'repayment' and demanding that she strip for him. There was no warmth in his expression, his eyes were completely cold.

If Johara had been a standard genie, or Djinn, she would have been impervious to things like temperature. She would have been a being completely apart from the place she was summoned to and it would have been impossible to injure her or cause her pain. Mustafa had not wanted her to be a genie who be used without feeling a single thing, good or bad however. He wanted her to be abused and he wanted her to feel pleasure and pain. Thus, when she was called from the lamp in physical form, she truly inhabited her surroundings. Johara could not be killed. She would simply return to the lamp if her physical form died. When she was called, she would manifest in a fresh, unsullied body, bearing no bruises or scars from previous use.

Tears started to fall from her eyes as she comprehended what Allister wanted of her. She could hardly believe she was going to lose her virginity to this arrogant bully of a man. Her hands went to the silks at her breasts and then paused, shaking.

"I can't..." She stammered. "I don't want to."

She glanced at the door, momentarily forgetting that she could not run from the lamp.
 
Allister watched as the realization of his request struck her. She looked scared, in tears. Her hands went to cover her breasts, as if it would shield her from his sight. The fabric was completely see through and she had been displaying her assets clearly ever since he laid his eyes on her. He found the action to be amusing as it was futile.

"I can't..." She stammered. "I don't want to."

She looked to the door, the thoughts clear in her stance. If she ran too far from him, he would return her to the lamp, and call her forth again. She would not escape.

"Your wants do not matter, Johara. Your opinions do not matter. My wants, my opinions, my commands are all you will be concerned about." He stood up. "I told you what you will do, Johara. Strip! Now! Lest I get angry and punish you."
 
Johara recoiled at Allister's raised voice as though he had struck her. It was abundantly clear that she had no choice but to obey him. He stood there expectantly, his expression darkening further, suggesting that further hesitation on her part would be extremely unwise.

She pulled the gauzy material from her body resignedly, wondering why this should feel so humiliating when her assets had been clearly visible through the sheer fabric all along.

Soon, she stood naked before him, the exquisite antique silks pooled upon the floor at her feet. Her nipples were hard with fear and her smooth pussy was clenched tight. Johara trembled under his scrutiny, her breath coming in short, panicked bursts, lifting her bare breasts up and down. Allister was drinking in her obvious fear and distress, his eyes raking even more hungrily over her body. The bulge in the front of his robe became more pronounced and Johara glanced at it fearfully, her gaze then darting about the room as though it was possible to flee.
 
Allister walked over to the naked woman, grabbing her and giving her a rough kiss. His forced his tongue into her mouth, but he didn't keep it there too long, in case she thought of biting him.

"Johara, I will have what I want from you. You will obey me, because you are my Slave. If you resist, it will be painful for you. But it can be enjoyable, Johara, as long as you do what you're told. This will be a part of your life for the foreseeable future, whenever I desire it, wherever I desire it and however many times I desire it."

He grabbed her arm and led her to the bed. He threw back the covers, and pushed her onto the bed. While she scrambled to get her bearings, he shed his robe. His body showed some signs of 'middle aged spread, but not too much. He was still healthy and his skin was still pale, but not white. His erection stood firm and ready, bobbing from the pulsing blood running through it.

Allister looked on Johara with a naked lust and hunger. If she had been a Djinn, he would have called on her to supply him with women to sate his lust for him, but she would now have to serve in their stead. Even though she was not exactly what he wanted in a woman, she was his, and that was all that mattered. She would satisfy his needs, regardless of her thoughts or desires.

"On your back, Johara, and we shall get you ready. Now!"
 
His cock seemed huge to her and Johara's body clenched instinctively. She moved reluctantly onto her back, her gaze falling on the lamp he had put down before he shed his robe. If she could get hold of the lamp, she could run. But where would she run? She was naked and in a time and place not her own.

There was no more time to think on that however, for Allister loomed over her, mounting the bed with obvious intent. His expression was a lust fuelled, triumphant sneer and Johara thought she had never seen anything so hideous. Her disgust must have been evident on her own face however, for his eyes darkened again and she trembled, terrified on the enormous bed.
 
Allister watched where her gaze fell, and he changed where he was going, so he could put the lamp into a draw, and away from Johara's possible grasp.

"Now, now, my little slave, that's not a good thing to think about. Even if you managed to grab it, and you managed to run, you would not get far. I would have you rooted to the spot within minutes, as though you were a tree in the ground."

He sat himself beside Johara, letting his hand run over her naked body, testing her flesh at various places. He also tweaked a nipple roughly, getting a feel for it. But his hand moved with purpose to between her legs. When she clamped them together, he got angry. Without pausing, he slapped her across the face.

"Open them, slave. And keep them open. Because if you don't open them, I will. Behave, Johara, and it will not hurt you anywhere near as much as it will if you resist. This is your absolute final warning. From now on, you resist, I will do what is needed. Understood?"
 
The slap had stunned her and it brought home to Johara just how much his strength and weight surpassed her own. She would not be able to fight him off or get to the draw containing her lamp. Even if she managed that, she would probably not outrun him. All she would succeed in doing would be to make things worse for herself. The thought of him pinning her and forcing himself into her was terrifying and she had absolutely no doubt in her mind that he would rape her without hesitation or remorse if she gave him another excuse.

So she opened her legs for him and lay there, tensed and afraid as his hands explored her. Johara turned her face away from him and stared miserably at nothing. She could not prevent him from raping her but she could at least avoid adding to his enjoyment by quaking with fear or resisting him. She took a deep breath and let her body go limp under his touch. Let him rape her if he chose to but she would lie there like a corpse until he was done with her.
 
"Very wise choice, Johara," Allister almost purred when she opened her legs for him. He had enough knowledge of the woman's body to know that there was a spot that made it hurt the man less when he started to fuck a woman.

His hand explored her nether regions until he found the spot. He slowly rubbed her clitoris, watching Johara's reaction to what he was forcing her body to do. After a minute or two, he slipped his finger into her entrance, feeling the lubrication as he pushed through her tightly closed entrance.

"Good, you're ready." He climbed over her and readied himself. He had the head of his cock poised just outside her entrance as he got himself into position to take her.

"Look at me, Johara. Look at my face when I make a woman out of you."
 
Johara actually rolled her eyes before turning to face him. The arrogance of this man was simply beyond belief. She had been a woman when her father's kingdom had been overthrown. She had been a woman when Mustafa had been leering over the prospect of forcing her into marriage and she had still been a woman when he had turned on her and bound her with his cruel curse. The idea that being violated by her new 'owner' would add to her character or maturity was insulting.

"I will look you in the eye as you become a rapist." She retorted recklessly. Johara then wondered with a jolt of fresh horror and disgust whether Allister had committed rape before. Certainly he seemed to be completely blase about it, or perhaps her immortal bond to the lamp made her easier for him to objectify.

She could feel him against her entrance, where poor Kahil had been such a short time and thousands of years ago. The swollen head of his cock was pressing against her slick sex and she knew that this time her body would yield and she would finally lose what Mustafa thought she had given away. It was her virginity, and perceived loss of it, that had brought her to this in the first place.

No. She corrected herself. It was the jealous pride of brutish men.
 
"Rapist? Really, my dear. You are wrong there. Rape would mean that you do not consent. You are my slave. Your will is mine. So when I take you, as I will, it will be something you want to happen too. So, I will not be raping you."

He pushed himself into Johara, feeling her body closing down on him. He continued until he met the barrier that declared her virginity. He continued his slow progress, feeling it resist against his efforts to go past. Finally, the barrier yielded, and he continued to go further into her. He felt the warmth of the blood from the barrier, and it added to the lubrication on this initial penetration. Her entire canal spasmed with the pain of her maidenhead's breakage, which only added to the sensations Allister was experiencing. Her diminutive body ensured that she would be a good firm fit, but the added contractions were working a magic of their own on his body.

"In the eyes of my people, Johara, you are no longer a girl but a woman. Now it is time for you to fulfill your duties of a woman."

He started to move in and out of her, not fast , nor slow, and neither was he gentle or rough with her. But he maintained his pace, looking down on his slave, watching as her mind lost it's battle with her body. He maintained the pace until he felt her falling into the same rhythm.

"That's better, Johara, listen to your body, and what it tell's you. Listen carefully, for we will do this many, many times before your debt is paid."
 
Johara stared up at Allister in angry disbelief as he calmly announced that she officially had no will of her own. The man appeared to be completely deluded. She would have told him just how wrong he was but Allister chose that moment to hold her down and violate her, putting his strength and weight behind his swollen erection and bearing down until he had forced his way inside her. After the sharp stab of the loss of her hymen, the pain was a stinging, burning sensation as her virgin pussy stretched wide reluctantly to accommodate him.

"In the eyes of my people, Johara, you are no longer a girl but a woman. Now it is time for you to fulfill your duties of a woman."

She felt a new level of discomfort as he reached the end of her channel and pushed firmly against the barrier there until he was fully inside her. Then he pulled back again, dragging his cock back through her body until she thought he might remove it completely. Allister pressed forwards however, with more force and speed this time. Tears sprung once more to Johara's eyes and she lay there miserably as he started thrusting. Her insides began to moisten but it was nothing more than self defence. Johara was not aroused in the slightest.

There was something deeply impersonal about the whole ordeal. Allister's face was devoid of emotion as he set a pace and mated with her in a rather clinical fashion. He was looking at her with nothing more than mild curiosity. Johara was clearly less than human to him, an antiquity that he possessed and could use as he pleased, like her lamp.

Although he was making no attempt to connect with her on an emotional level, his use of her was causing strange sensations in Johara. There was something gathering inside her and it made her panic a little because she had no idea what it was. her nipples were hard and sensitive and a tiny point above her moistening sex felt like it was throbbing.

"That's better, Johara, listen to your body, and what it tell's you. Listen carefully, for we will do this many, many times before your debt is paid."

She scowled up at him, incensed that he believed he knew more about her body than she did herself. The repeated insistance of this 'debt' as also infuriating, as though it was her fault Mustafa had rendered her powerless. The rush of rage made the physical sensations more intense however, so she endeavoured to suppress it. She would not cooperate with Allister any more than was strictly necessary.
 
He continued to thrust into Johara's body, her body's tight grip on his cock was starting to have the effect that nature designed. He felt his climax start to build, and he let his control over himself go. His pace increased, as well as the power he used with the thrusts. Because of their size differences, he started moving her further up the bed. He dropped himself onto his elbows, having his hands holding her head steady, and in turn keeping her body from migrating further up the bed.

With his face so close to hers, he kissed her. It was a rough kiss, more a function of his lust than anything else. His pace increased further as he reached the point of no return, his body tightening up in preparation for the release of his seed deep within his slave's body. With one final thrust, the cock spasmed as he came within her. He grunted with his release, feeling the relief that his peak brought to him.

He kissed Johara again, this time with some feeling. "Thank you."
 
She endured the kiss but only because she knew he was done with her. Johara was tensed and wanted to punch Allister in the face for what he had done.

Johara exhaled slowly with relief, grimacing with mild disgust at the feel of his fluid inside her body. She wondered with a stab of panic whether it was possible for her to get pregnant. Allister withdrew from her and she immediately scooted as far from him as possible across the bed, drawing her knees up and hugging them protectively, with no thought for how the pose displayed her swollen pussy lips, slick with cum.
 
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