The Harem...... All Welcome!!!

[redbaron05]

You have insulted my family again by striking women before my guests. Consider yourself fortunate I do not feed your carcass to the dogs you pathetic worm." Reaching behind him he grabbed a fist full of gems and threw them at the slaver and continued berating him through clenched teeth, "take them and get out off my land. Fail not to remember, once past the gates, thieves and cutthroats rule the waste land. Your and your laden pockets just might not make it to the shore and the safety of your ship. Make haste before the nightfall and do not look back. Get him out of my sight!"

Akbars smiles as the guards toss the slaver out on his ear Then turning back to his brother and asks in a voice only the Sultan can hear about these two will you put them under my tutelege and care Sire?

 

[Joe Schmoe]

The storm before the calm

The Sultan motioned for Habib the Chief Eunuch to come over. Looking at the two that were still under guard he gave him his order. "take the two slaves and cage them separately till I have time to decide what will be done with them. Strip them, remove everything. They have now made themselves the lowest of slaves in my house. Put guards on them and return."

Turning back towards the throne he made his way with the Grand Vizier right behind him. Just before he seated himself he took a deep breath and reclaimed his composure. The look of before that welcomed all that came was once again on his face. Thoughts of what went wrong were pushed aside as he took his place and looked out among his guests.

The chaos was now under control and a quiet began to over take the murmurs that flowed among the guests as the Sultan's advisor took his place again. He shouted, "is there any left to who wishes to honor the Sultan with presentations, any one?!"

He was about to turn away as he rolled up his scroll when from the back three men in rich attire of the northern tribes took to the aisle. One lead as the other two followed, one with a wicker basket in his hands. All on the dais frowned as they knew these were not proper representatives from the steppes of the mountains of the Kurdish tribes but tradition forbid any rebuttal.

"We come to offer our gift to the Magnificent Jalal bin Khalim, his family and his house", the leader spoke while in a deep bow as the other placed the basket upon the dais.

Cautious looks darted from the basket to the presenters and back.

"It is with deep regret we cannot remain for the splendid festivities the gracious Jalal bin Khalim has planned but please accept our humble token of the respect we hold for the House of Khalim."

With that the carrier kicked the basket over, the top fell off and a bloody severed head rolled to the feet of the Sultan. It was the head of the Khalim ambassador to the Shah.

Guards pulled swords and took a step forward till the raised hand from the Sultan stopped them in mid-step.

"We will not forget or forgive who assassinated the Glorious Shah for your puppet to be put in power, Jalal bin Khalim. The day will come that the sun will rise over your rotting corpse and power will be restored to the proper hands."

With that they turned on their heels and left the Hall.

As they did Jalal looked to Radu with the silent message in his eyes.

Before the guest knew what happened, word could spread and panic follow the Grand Vizier threw a rug over the horrific spectacle, "my Sultan, begin the festivities now. It would be wise to divert attention at this time."

Two claps of the Sultan's hands brought a train of muscular black slaves into the Great Hall carrying massive platters of silver that were piled high with every delectable delight, special for the holiday. Meats of various beasts cooked in exotic spices; Skewers of succulent lamb, roasted chicken, dried and cooked fish; vegetables, especially eggplant. There were rice dishes galore. Sweets and savories of every kind that made the mouth water. Fruits of the area and rare ones from a far. Blocks of every sort of cheese one could obtain. Piles of different flat breads. Foods cooked in a myriad of different ways. Others brought in casks of the sweetest wines, bitter ale and fermented honey. All being set in the middle of the Great Hall to be served.

Following the food were musicians that took their place. Players of a multitude of instruments; reed pipes, gongs, various drums and stringed instruments that were plucked, hammered or bowed. taking their place waiting for the Sultan.

As the food and musicians flowed in the Grand Vizier instructed the Chief Eunuch Habib to assign guards to the new slaves, remove and hold them in the adjoining room to wait for their inspection by the Sultan.

After everything and everyone were in their place the Sultan stood and addressed his guests.

"My friends, it is with great honor that the House of Khalim sees to your pleasures through the holiday. My girls will entertain and serve you in any manner you desire. Enjoy. Let the feast begin!"

More claps brought his girls to their feet as the musicians began, filling the hall with the rhythms native to the desert people and groups of swirling feminine forms. Those with specialized talents began to take their turn to show why the Sultan's harem was renown to all four corners of the world.

Jalal rose and quickly stepped near Radu, "they must not make it back. They must come to see how hollow and fruitless their threats are."

 

[DrStein]

Radu watched the threat from the three northerners with slitted eyes. This outrage would not go unpunished. Already, the wheels in the assassin's head were turning as he plotted the swiftest, most efficient way to dispose of this infidels.

Radu nodded but once when the Sultan addressed him. In a low whisper with only minimalist movements of his lips, Radu said only one thing. "They shall not live to see nightfall, my lord."

With that, he quietly slipped out of the room while all attention was on the slaves. He would make his work swift and return to the festivities by twilight. He always wore solid black clothing, but now that his task came, he slipped off the fine coat he wore around the palace and draped it around his shoulders. Checking to make sure the corridor was empty, Radu climbed from a window and utilized the handholds he had spent weeks memorizing and enhancing to make the climb as efficient as possible.

He found himself on a rooftop and slipped his coat into a box under a small canopy he had erected himself. He removed his sash and donned a new one which had all of his necessary tools in small pouches attached to the garment by hooks painted black.

Radu scaled back down the wall and crept through the gardens to the hidden exit that only he and the elite guards new of. Once out in the streets, the assassin disguised his face with a hood and veil and slipped out into the city proper to track down the three men. Once they entered the wasteland beyond the gate, they were as good as dead.

 

[RedHairedandFriendly]

Miranda

Even the calm Miranda reacted to the bloody head that had spilled from the basket. Her eyes had gone from one of pure observance to pure shock. The item had spilled and rolled, its glazed eyes stared toward the group of women, the mouth gaping open seemed to be caught in a scream. Her stomach lurched and for a moment Miranda almost lost her composure. She closed her eyes on the sight, refusing to open them until she knew the mass of blood and gore had been removed or until she heard differently.

When Miranda heard the Sultan, her Master, give the order to perform. She sighed a deep breath and felt her body relax slightly. Her eyes opened and the discarded head was now covered from the view of the guests and the women. She rose from her feet and stood still for a moment, allowing the muscles that had started to sleep begin to recover. The pain in her back ebbed on, but she knew in time it would disappear.

She looked over to where the area for the dances would commence and saw she had a few moments before it would begin. Her throat dry she went and took a drink of the sparkling cool water that had been brought in a moment ago. When her thirst was quenched she took a small corner of her gossamer sleeve and dipped it into the goblet she had used.

Running the cool water over her warm skin helped to ease her dehydration as did the water that had settled in her stomach. She nodded her head indicating she was finished with her drink, and watched the low slave return to his post. Her eyes moved over to the Sultan and saw he was in deep discussions with Radu. She looked at both of them apprecientively then moved on to see where everyone was.

Guests were now mingling with guests and harem girls, as well as slavers showing their wares. She moved to the center of the room where the pillows and goblets of drink for the guests had been removed and taken to the sides. Her head remained bowed until the players began the music. The melodious sound filled the room and soon Miranda began her dance.

She closed her eyes and allowed her body to sway slightly. At first it looked like she hadn't moved, but as the music continued so did her lithe frame. Her hands came up, her hips moves softly, weaving slowly a tantalizing melody all of their own. The pale emerald coloring of her top hugged her frame, the thin sleeved article moved softly in the breeze created by her dance.

Her fingers slid slowly down one arm, then over across her right breast at an angle until she reached her waist. Miranda's body was like liquid silk, each movement accented by the next. Each motion flowed fluidly as if she were like the honey that the Sultan often used on her in their more private moments, moments he shared with only her.

With each slow display of her talent, she slipped further into the music. Her body no longer something she could control but something that was being controled. Everything floated away, her subconsious barely grasping anything as she moved. The thin blouse that had served as a jacket was removed, and the emerald green bra top that had been only a meer whisper to see before was displayed.

The coin trimming that lay at the hem of the top shimmered as she moved, soflty clicking a melody all their own when they were stirred together. The material covering her breasts was thicker then that of the jacket. It kept the color of her aerola's hidden from veiw, but it did allow the guests to see the nipples that were now hard.

Miranda's body responded to the tune of the players, it seemed to make love to each note as she moved. Her fingers slipped over her hips and she ran them back up her sides. Fingers danced a long known dance of seduction and soon the tempo increased as did her own movements.

The emerald green pants, its trimming also gold coined and also laden with a thicker amount of material, kept the precious treasure of her sex covered until it was given to one worthy of its nectar. Her legs moved along carrying her in circles as the cresendo built up around her. The covering of thin cloth around her legs, did nothing to hide the firm muscles of the dancer inside her and only added to the woman's character and promise of many hours of pleasure.

Soon she felt it, her body now heavy with sweat, her clothing clinging to her. Beads of salty liquid slowly slid down her frame and she soon was reaching the climax of the music. Players stopped and Miranda dropped to the floor, as if she were a pool of warm melted honey, waiting to be gathered and consumed. She heard the soft music signaling the quietness of the moment, and she rose to her feet.

Her eyes stayed downcast, and she silently slipped back to her place. The slave from before brought her a drink of the cool water and she drank deeply of it. Her body now quenched. She took a moment to catch her breath, then returned her eyes to the room and began to watch the festivities.

 

[poohlive]

Habib took the two slave girls away from the main room, passing by hallways and ancient corridors that filled the palace. He waited a while, until he was sure no ears could hear them.

Then, he spoke to the slavers, quite clearly.

"You are both foolish, to try and escape like that. In broad daylight with no help. It is a wonder you are alive right now. Just be thankful that the Sultan was in a good mood. Now, listen, my name is Habib. I can help you escape. If you really want to escape I can help you. It will not be soon though. As part of the lowest slaves you will be under constant guard and escape is impossible. If you really do want to go, please, listen to me, understand me... I can help you."

They kept walking as they talked. Habib's voice was low, barely above a whisper under his footfalls.

 

[LadyChance]

Zaynab

Zaynab listened to the berating they were receiving from the guard, Habib
talked of escape to them and soon Zaynab felt a spark of hope once again bloom deep within her chest. Could this guard indeed help them escape or was it just a trick, why would this guard help them escape his Lord and Master? The guard Habib was tall next to the two girls and though he was not bad looking there was a quiet strength that spoke of danger to them.

Soon there was no time for words no questions could be answered as the two girls were assured into a dark room. The walls made of a thick stone, there were several cages all in various sizes as well as tables placed about the room. Odd looking things attached to each table and Zaynab got the feeling that none of them were meant for pleasure but more for pain.

Shivering softly with apprehension at the sight, Zaynab quickly learned that this was to be there prison until the Sultan said otherwise. Looking to Idrial seeing that the girl though bruised some was still playing her part. When told they were to remove their garments, Zaynab did not once hesitate she did not want to upset anyone again. At least until the time was right and it meant their escape. If the guard was indeed true to his word and helped them that is, if not she would figure out a way for them to escape on her own.

Without saying a word Idrial was there at Zaynab’s back her hands deftly removing the small buttons to release the garments. Folding each item and placing it aside, even though both were to be stripped Idrial helped Zaynab remove hers first. Smiling her appreciation to Idrial as the last garment is removed. Zaynab steps quietly into the cage opened for her, turning to stand facing the opening. Her white blonde hair now falling freely upon her naked fair skinned body.

Watching Idrial then remove her garments just as quickly, stepping into the next cage next to her. Both girls stood facing the guards, neither saying a word, waiting patiently for the Sultan to decide what was to be done with them.

The guard Habib moved about the room giving orders to the other guards within the room. Then looking once more to us he left the room leaving the to girls to stand quietly. Both in their own thoughts and fears as to what was to happen next.

Though her brogue was thick Zaynab knew that Idrial would understand her, “I am sorry my little Idrial I have failed us both.” The Slaver had made sure that both girls had received language lessons. Telling them it would help them find favor with their new Lord and Master. But when they needed to talk they would slip back into their own language, though both a bit different then the others they understood each other.

 

[LadyFairy]

When they were brought into the room Idrial did her best not to look at the devices around the room, and helped Zynab from her clothing. Quickly removing her own clothing, and getting into the cage she heard Zynab speak to her. Tis alright Zynab we took a chance and failed, but at least we tryed. Idrial said in her own toung as the guards left the room leaving the two girls in their cages. Now that they were gone Idrial sat down on the cold floor her ribs, and jaw hurting from where the slavers fists had connected.

Looking over at Zynab, Idrial couldnt help but notice how beautiful, and graceful she was with her long flowing white blonde hair and wintery ice blue eyes. Her breast's tho large compaired to Idrial's small ones were lovely to behold, and Idrial often found herself thinking that if she were a man she would scoop Zynab away and keep her for her self as a wife. Idrial smiled shaking away her thought's for she was a female, and could do no such thing.

Sighing softly she wished she had an Orcana, or a Pan Pipe or even a lap harp so that she could pass the time for them by playing a tune, but new insted that it was not to be, and all she had left to offer was a storie. Zyanab if you wish i will tell you a storie or two to help us pass the time. she said ignoring the pain in her ribs as she waited to hear Zynab's reply.

 

[Babette_____]

Susanne - Nackal

Susanne had been pleased when she saw a second slave come into the room, but that surprise disappeared when the head rolled free of its confinement. She gasped and covered her nose and face with her handkerchief. The sight reminding her of long ago stories of how those in her land of England dealt with traitors. Heads were decapitated and placed on spikes. Obviously this head was that of someone that was either a traitor or thought the Sultan himself had someone that was a traitor within his keep.

She pushed away the horrid image and looked around for the man that was earlier being led away. The threat of lashes being laid across his back or having him stand in the scorching sun all day had spurred her to take action. She had only been stopped in her quest because of all the noise that was surrounding the room.

Once the Sultan had clapped his hands, announcing the festivities she saw it began to calm. Miranda danced and both guests and slaves were allowed to mingle and enjoy the foods. She watched Miranda move gracefully and again saw the eyes of many on the Harem girls form. Deciding it was time for her to try and see if she could spare the untrained slave a most unpleasant discomfort she moved toward the Grand Vicar.

“I wish to take possession of the untrained one you have seen fit to strap to the pole,” Susanne stated.

The Vicar noticed the fine gifts she had given the Sultan and allowed her a brief nod and then had another slave lead her to where the man was tied. Once she had stated her purchase of the man, for her own pleasures for the time she was in the palace they released him into her care.

She looked at him and her eyes roamed over his body. He had all ready broken into a hot sweat and she imagined licking it from his skin. It had been so long since she had felt the heated touch of a lover and now her body was full of a need that wanted quenched.

There were rooms in the palace set up for the guests and Susanne had been told upon entering where hers would be. Taking the rope that the guard had tied around the man’s neck she moved to lead him back toward the palace. The man did not move, so she turned to look at him. “You go with me or you stay here, you may chose.” She walked toward him, her fingers wrapped around his soft cock, and she began to stroke it.

“Decide slave… which pole shall lead you to a more eventful awakening? That of the wood that rests behind you in the hot sun, or the one in my hand that even now grows within the grasps of a stranger.” She looked back and released his now partially erect cock. “Are you coming or staying?” Her lips smirked at the spin on words she had created.

 

[Logan2]

As people start to mingle and the girls started their dance Robert was really at a loss. He simply stood rooted to the spot and hoped somebody would fetch him and show him what to do and where to go.

He hated his father for sending him here in this foreign contry where he not even was able to speak the local language, he hadn't understand much of what had been going on. Apparently two slaves had attempted to flee and then there had been this head roling around.

This really was bad. Finaly he decided to walk around the hall to see if he heard a word in a language he recognized.

 

[BriefcaseRonin]

Buthayna

The Sultan's daughter did not even bother to look at the festivities or the dancing slaves. She sat rooted in her chair, staring up at her father. She had seen him angry, and she had always been able to at least calm him with her company, but now.. now he was enraged and even now she could still see the hidden fury he was quelling.

She was shocked, never had her father snapped at his beloved daughter. She felt frightened and ashamed, like the lowest infidel in the land. What had she done to lose her father's favor? She doubted her standing now, if her father was displeased with her would he stop tending to her? She knew she had taken a great deal of time in finding a suitor but she only wanted to make her father proud of her decision.

She did not understand the affairs of men, had she insulted her father by believing she was worthy to learn of such things? A tear ran down her cheek and she stood, bowing her head to her father before slowly heading out of the main room. Even in her despair and shame she was graceful, leaving back to her own room.

 

[leopardlover]

Nackal watches silently as the slaver is dragged out and away, locked from the Sultan's palace. He slmost pities the man...Locked in the wild without weapons, horse, food or water...You are all but guaranteed to die. His situation is marginally better. He knows they shall not let him die. No...He it appears is bound to be a slave. He shoud have bided his time he muses, and did not. Now it is costing him. He must learn patience, and -not- make that mistake again. In the meantime he sits against the pole, doing little as he can. He has ripped off what little clothing he has and is using it as a shield against the sun. It isnt much, and it will not suffice later in the day. But for it means he'll not quite roast so fast.

Then the woman comes to him, unties him from the pole and starts to walk away. He is unsure of who she is and why she is taking him. He thinks a moment, trying to think why she is familiar. Then he has it. She is the one looking for a slave to train, the one who's feet he fell at. She is beautiful, and he responds as her hands move over his flesh, unconsciously arching into her hold.

"I shall come. For now. Who knows what may happen later?"

His accent is poor, but clear enough to understand English. He moves closer, growing even more erect as he thinks of the things she shall probably have him do and shall do to him.

 

[redbaron05]

With that the carrier kicked the basket over, the top fell off and a bloody severed head rolled to the feet of the Sultan. It was the head of the Khalim ambassador to the Shah.

Seeing the head roll from the basket Akbar is suprised that these infidels would be so bold as to insult Jalal bin Khalim in his own palace The sultan has the head covered and the lovely Miranda perform Akbar returns to his seat and enjoys the show

 

[cati]

Yasmeen makes a move.

Yasmeen turned her head away from the macabre spectacle, choosing instead to watch the parade of servants bringing in platters of deliciously smelling foodstuffs. The aroma of spices and the succulent juices of roasted meats filled her nostrils and made her belly grumble. Groaning at the Sultan's command for the girls to serve, she nevertheless quickly scrambled to her feet, tucked her spilling breasts back into their jewelled restraints…then moved quickly towards the banquet of tempting edibles.
The house of Kahlim had certainly outdone themselves in impressing the new guests. Yasmeen heard and watched as the men signalled for a slave girl' s attention, hoping to be among the first to be fed. Everyone's appetite seemed in desperate need of satiating.

Weaving through the bodies of perfumed sensuality, Yasmeen found herself behind the tall form of a new slave, whose skin was the colour of dark amber. The spicy- sweet scent that emanated from the girl's flesh was simply intoxicating…

She wondered…"Could it be oil of ambergris, yes...and something more ….ahhh the smell of musk! The mouthwatering, carnal bouquet of natural female essence wafted gently from the other slaves' moist nether regions as she moved seductively in front of Yasmeen.

"How delightful… the evening held some promise afterall"

The combination of the two animal essences inflamed Yasmeen and she inhaled deeply the pleasing scent of the girl and hoped to speak to her later that evening. "Perhaps they might even become "close" friends".

 

[poohlive]

Habib would have liked to stay with the slave girls longer, but he was due back at the Sultan's side. He didn't get a chance to talk to them very much, they didn't seem very agreeable to what he had to say.

Well, he hoped they would at least listen to him about being loyal. It does no good to be disloyal, whether you want to escape or not. These things simply were not done, what was inside a woman's heart was her own to keep and hold, but what she showed out to the world would always be obediance and submission. Without that, they might as well be dead.

Habib stood in the room of festivities once more, one hand on the Falchion that stood sheathed by his side. His whole body ready to move at a moment's notice, if the Sultan had need of him.

 

[Babette_____]

Susanne - Nackal

Susanne led her slave, the rope curled in her hands. She smiled softly to herself as she remembered the cock that she had been glad to feel becoming aroused by her gentle yet demanding touches. She moved back through the palace using a different entrance so as not to force the disobident slave on the people once more.

Once in her private chambers that she had secured for the week, she turned to the guard who had followed behind them. "I will be fine now. I do not feel as if there will be a need for you."

"The rope is there MyLady," he indicated the pull rope that would call for a guard. She nodded her acceptance of his instructions as was reassured that she would be safe knowing the guards were each housed in close proximity to all guests as well as palace members.

A small woman entered. She was dark skinned and her body was covered in a dress of white linen. "A virgin maid," she looked to the slave. "If you touch her. They will make you an eunuch." Her eyes roamed down to his cock. "If you touch her... I'll be the one that uses the knife... and there will be no ceremony to help relieve you of the painful procedure."

Her eyes spoke true her words. She looked to the girl. "Prepare his bath. . . feed him. . . then show him to my chambers." She scanned the young untouched body, knowing she was of age, but the gown indicated she was being saved for either the Sultan or for some noble guest.

"Has your training begun?" she asked the woman.

A bowed head bobbed yes, but said nothing.

"Good. After his bath and food. Show him to my rooms as I stated before, but I need him hard and ready. I do not wish to waste my time at this first joining. Prepare him for me, however you seem fit . . . I'll come in when I am ready, then you may leave us."

She looked over to the slave. "You'll cooperate won't you? Or will I need to have you find a new job in this palace as an eunuch slave?"

 

[Luna-fey]

Symra

Symra watched the grisly spectacle of the severed head with horror and fear. She winced at the sight, her disgust and shock stronger than her will to remain composed. There was a collective feminine gasp from the women around her. Even Miranda, usually so calm, closed her eyes. Symra wanted air. The room suddenly felt incredibly warm. Her face grew pale and her cheeks flushed.

There were whisperings that seemed to seep from every corner of the great hall as the guests discussed this most unusual turn of events. But the sultan did not allow this lull to last long and he announced the beginning of the feast. The musicians played; the food was served. Miranda was the first to dance. She was an exquisite dancer and Symra allowed herself to get lost in the performance.

Symra's turn to dance soon came. Her dress, with all of its diaphanous folds of gauzy fabric and silk, was a vivid shade of turquoise. She dressed modestly. Except for the creamy skin of her midriff and her bare arms (but only when she moved a certain way), Symra's outfit showed little. This simplicity was intentional on her part. She hinted at sensuality in the gentle sway of her hips, in the graceful curve of her neck, in the fluid movements of her body. She was a sea nymph dancing on tiptoes across the unfurling waves. Shiny red curls fell from their pins and played about her shoulders. The music that accompanied her was most often dreamy, occasionally playful. Her dance seemed to beckon, "Shhh.... I offer you a promise, as yet unfulfilled...come with me!"

When Symra finished, she sat on one of the marble benches by a window, letting the cool breeze fan her face. She awaited the will of the sultan or that of his most honored guests.

 

[LadyChance]

Zaynab

"That would be nice Idrial something with a happy ending so that we may forget where we are standing now." As she listens to Idrial, Zaynab lets herself float free. Forgetting where she is, and instead she is in a feild of flowers. Her twin standing there laughing with her as they watch two rabbits hop and play quietly.

The morning sun isn't to bright adding just a touch of warmth to the skin, the breeze cooling with a bite of cold to come. Her long white hair blows out from her lovely face as she turns it up to the sun. In the distance sheep and goats can be heard, somewhere off to the side of her she can hear a bell telling her that there is a herder somewhere near by.

Coming back out of her memory Zaynab focuses her attention once more on Idrial. Idrial was still telling her story making it beautiful and intriguing with the inflictions in her voice. Bringing out the emotions of each individual in her story.

 

[leopardlover]

He looks over the maid as he removes the rope from his neck quickly, efficiently, even though his hands are bound as well. However, he can not undo the manacles. He wonders if this is his chance, as she is leaving him with this maid. Then he remembers guards are all around. He would not make it. He looks at his hands pointedly, clearly wanting to be unchained.

He grunts, not even speaking as they are undone. He first rubs both wrists, moving this way and that to gain full flexibilty again. After this he begins on his neck, all but ignoring the two, sure to make his new "mistress" quite irritated at the least, ignored my a "mere slave". He does not care though, has never had to. He is a nomad chieftain's son, allowed to do and go where he wishes.

After the soreness is gone he stretches this way and that, almost in his own little world as he takes out the kinks and cramps his time chained to first a bed then a pole inevitable created

Finally satisfied he could fight if he gets the chance he looks around, carefully noting the exits, the possible weapons and tools he could use. He curses softly but vehemently when he sees one door, leading to the guards, no weapons and only things needed to clean in this room.

After all this, at least a good ten minutes, he looks to Susanne and the virginal maid.

"Food would be nice. But no need to worry about me spoiling her. I shall not toucher her nor she me.I can wash myself. And as to getting me ready...Do it yourself if you want my body."

He waves the girl off to do her thing, very much himself. He climbs into the steaming bath totally nude. He grabs the soap and scrubs, almost harshly against his sweaty, dusty skin, thoughts of moments ago playing through his head, keeping him semi hard. He still registers them, the woman not sure what to do, barely in his vision. He doesnt know what Susanne is doing, but doesnt care much. He knows she is serious but refuses to so easily be cowed.

 

[gypsy4191]

Almira-Still waiting

Lying in the room Almira heard the commotion coming from the great hall. Straining with all her senses she hears the voice of two men, "We will not forget or forgive who assassinated the Glorious Shah for your puppet to be put in power, Jalal bin Khalim. The day will come that the sun will rise over your rotting corpse and power will be restored to the proper hands."

Then a little bit and the Sultan claps his hands to commence the fesitivies.

Almira knew the Sultan was angery, she could "feel" the force of it rolling off him and bufferting against her naked body stretched across the table. Suddenly she was slightly anxious. She didn't regret her words to the guard, not at all, but perhaps it would have been wiser to wait. All she could hope was that either the Sultan didn't come to her tonight or that he cooled down before he came to her.

She hoped it would be soon, her muscles really ached and she needed to relieve herself quite desperately.

 

[ZuesTheGod]

Kenneth mingles with some guards and finds some beauties(Chance, Fairy, Gypsy,Luna)

The other stablehands had settled into a peaceful lunch once the commotion outside had settled down with the slave that was for a short time strapped to the pole. The woman had that seemed to have purchased the slave came out and demanded him to come with her. Kenneth and the others had all quite enjoyed the "handling" of him and each one wish they would have had a chance to be punished by the English beauty.

Kenneth had blended in well with the mix of foreigners. He had stayed to himself until everyone had settled in and all the noblemen and women were either gone or inside enjoying the festivities. He sat outside now enjoying the breeze and the sunshine. He noticed the man Radu leave and he knew that the others were with friends and guests or being "entertained". This was his chance. He quickly got up and prepared to watch and learn.

"Your papers!"

The voice startled him, but he quickly handed the guard the documents, and was soon left alone. A group of slaves walked by and he picked up their talk of females being carted off and locked away as well as some head rolling around on the floor. A bite of fear struck him as he thought of his sister inside and the danger she may be in. He stood up and began a relaxed walk around the palace. Several guards stopped him and he answered their questions whenever he was approached.

He had his documentation proving he had been given authority to be there for the upcoming week or months depending how long his friend's wife stayed. As Kenneth's eyes scanned the palace walls he notice a figure sitting in the window. His breath caught in his throat and he stared for quite sometime. Her face made his pulse quicken. She was a beauty. Her face looked sad or heavy in thought he was not sure. The air stirred her hair and he felt as if he needed to reach out to her and grab her. To capture her and remove her from the life she was forced to live. Making note of her features he hurried on his walk. His mind running a thousand questions.

He saw them as they rounded the corner and without hesitation he handed the guards his papers. "I see the Sultan protects his possessions well," commented lightly to one of the three men.

"Yes he does. We are the most elite and we know he wishes to keep what is his safe as well as his guests."

"I understand," Kenneth told them. "I am just out for a walk."

Kenneth continued on lost in thoughts until he realized he was coming up to another set of windows. He heard a voice light and airy speaking of a story. Moving closer he quickly looked inside and saw another beautiful woman, and then a second voice joined with the first. He watched long and hard at the woman telling the story and marked her features as well for the longest time he studied her. Her sad expression was evident and Kenneth felt anger over the fact she was forced to remain naked consume him. He wanted nothing more then to cover her and hide her shame. Every word she flowed stirred something in him, the story moving him to memories long shut off. Looking left then right he whispered, "I can not help you now, but I vow to you I will try. Stay brave."

He moved on and looked at the woman next to the first. To say he gawked when have been an understatement. Kenneth had known the Sultan had collected beauties, but why throw her in the cages? What had she done? What had either one of them done? His fist curled in anger as he gazed at her. The woman just as the other, was naked and she too showed her sadness, evident on her featrues. She sat there listening to the story of her friend. Kenneth felt the heat of his fury burn in him and he vowed he'd get them both out if there were someway he could. Her eyes reminded him of a time long ago when he ached for something more, a missing link to his soul. "Miss. . . You must do nothing to further your problem. I will help you when I can. I swear to you."

Making his way back to the stables his head pounding with rage, bringing on a painful headache. He waved off the others who had asked him to join in the foray of cards and dice. The headache plagued him, so he was on his way to the loft and laid down. Kenneth stopped short as he began to head back to the stables. He felt something. Something nagged at him, so he continued on a path around one small section of the palace.

"You! Where are you going?"

Kenneth stopped and looked back over to the voice that called to him. "I am just walking Sir." He pulled his papers and showed them to the palace guard. "I am just a stableman."

The guard read the papers, noted the name and pushed them back to the man. "You need to walk somewhere else... and you should know that your employer will be staying for sometime. I hear she has purchase a most ill-tempered slave." He laughed and continued on his own job of watching the palace for people that didn't belong.

There a window looked into a room. He looked inside and his face froze in disbelief. Another woman one just as beautiful as the rest lay stretched on a table. His hand moved to the dagger on his waist and he curled his fingers around it. What was this place? What kind of human calls himself a man to do such things to the bodies of those that obviously would be saught of for more then just pleasures. Kenneth swore under his breath and moved on. He had seen enough.

He had noted the entrance points as well as windows of the palace. His mind thought of how to better gain access to his sister, for now having seen her, he knew she was in fact there. The furrow of his brow increased as he thought of the sad features on her face made him wish he understood how life could be so unfair. He would get her out the punishment of living the life that wasn't her destiny was wrong. He was to protect her. It was 20 years of searching and he swore that he would take her from the clutches of the Sultan, for no crime was so vile as to be forced to lay with a man you didn't want.

Kenneth could see the biggest obstacle would be just getting into the palace. He prayed he would not have to use her Ladyship, or he would have to acknowledge to her that he knew of her attempts to poison him, and how her husband had died for Kenneth's quest. Closing his eyes he allowed a light nap to overtake him and hoped when he awoke he'd have another plan.

 

[LadyFairy]

Idrial smiled at her friend and Mistress and begain her tail it was hard searching thru her stories to find one with a happy ending and so opted for a legand insted. My lady i shall tell ye the tail of how the Fair folk.. The Tuatha de Danann came ta be..

Irish legend says that the Tuatha de Danann are the fairy folk; the fairies, pixies and brownies who inhabit the mounds, or Sidhe, of the Irish countryside. But upon closer examination, one discovers that the Tuatha de Dannan were actually a people who inhabited Ireland in times long past.

When the Tuatha de Danann first arrived in Ireland they landed in Connaught. They landed on a mountain in ships of the sky that blotted out the sun for three days.

Thus, from the mists they appeared. The Tuatha upon landing, burned their ships, determined to stay in the land. Likely, the Tuatha de Dannan were just sick of the voyage and decided to settle down.

But the Tuatha were not welcomed by the current residents of Ireland, the Fir Bolg. After a time the two sides joined in battle. The Fir Bolg were defeated, but they had given such a good fight that the Tuatha let them keep Connaught and took the rest of Ireland.

The Tuatha were a highly civilized people, and tradition holds that the Fir Bolg held their conquerors in high esteem. The people of the Goddess Danu possessed remarkable domestic skills; so much so, that those they conquered deemed the Tuatha magicians and Gods.

The King of the Tuatha, Nuada, had lost an arm in the battle against the Fir Bolg. Tradition has it that because he was now blemished, he could no longer be King. In his place the champion of the Tuatha de Danann, Breas now became King.

Idrial watched as Zynab became ether lost in the storie or her own thought's she didnt know but all the same weaving in her voice the magic and mystery of the Tuatha de Danann....becoming lost in the telling herself.

Sitting there quietly a moment taking a breath before she went on with the storie she heard a man's voice from the window speaking to both her, and Zaynab letting them know that he would help them when he could and to do nothing to make things worse. Idrial nodded that she under stood, and made her voice a little louder as she continued her tail so that the guard outside of the door wouldnt hear what the man was saying.

Breas ruled for seven years, but in this time, he thoroughly disenchanted his people by bending to Formorian demands. The people were not well fed, the crops were poor, and the final straw came when Breas insulted a poet. He was quickly ousted from command, and in his place returned Nuada, who now had a new arm made of silver.

Breas fled to the Hebrides, where he complained to his father, a Fomorian. A great host was raised, so large that their ships filled the sea from Ireland to the Hebrides. Upon landing the Formorian host and Tuatha met in battle at northern Moytura, in Sligo. The Tuatha won the day and the power of the Formorians was broken forever in Ireland. Nuada died fighting the Formorians, and a hero of the battle, Lugh, became the new King of Ireland.

After Lugh, Dagda was king, and after Dagda followed his three grandsons. During the rule of the three grandsons, the Milesians came and in another great battle conquered the Tuatha de Danann. The Legends say that from then on, the Tuatha were permitted to stay in Ireland, but underground only. From then on they became the fairy folk of legends.

The Tuatha's skills in the arts and domestic life were even respected by their conquerors the Milesians. It is said that the Tuatha had four great treasures or talismans that showed their skills in arts, crafts and magic.

The first treasure was the Stone of Fal, which would scream whenever a true king of Ireland would place his foot on it.

The next talisman was the Magic Sword of Nuada, a weapon that only inflicted mortal blows when drawn. The third treasure was the Sling-shot of the Sun God Lugh, that never missed its target.

The final treasure is the Cauldron of Dagda from which an inexhaustible supply of food came forth.

Idrial smiled as she came to the end of her tail saying at the last.. All but one of these treasures is lost to us, and none know where they be, but the legendary Stone of Scone, or Fal sits in Edinburgh today. Idrial blushed slightly when she was finnished wondering if that would be a good tail to give to the sultan or if she should keep it to herself for the tail was of another land and place, and hoped that the guard hadnt heard the man speaking to them from the window.

First the one guard offered them aid and now a stranger... Idrial begain to think that mayhap they would ineed escape in time.

 

[cati]

Yasmeen felt she was being weak in not being able to shake off the shadow of Radu. The man entered her thoughts almost constantly. This was so unlike her. Even now, she keenly felt his absence and resented the Sultan for sending him off again. She was unable to put her finger on exactly what about him peeked her interest. His being in the Sultan's entourage served him well and he was unlikely to fall into disfavor at any time. The man seemed only to grow closer and more trusted with every mission and each task he carried out. Perhaps it was his aloofness and unconcern for sensual delights that made her curious.

He was not an exceedingly handsome man, but bore the rugged good looks of someone who lived well and had occupied most of his time outdoors. It was said that he spent his free time rubbing shoulders with the local hoi paloi in the cities lowly taverns where murder and mayhem reigned supreme. When he was spotted in the palace, he seldom returned a glance or greeting and rarely if ever involved himself in the raucious parlor games that were routine for those others who were involved in the every day running of the palace. Both respected and feared, Radu carried himself with dignity and a keen sense of duty and propriety.

Yasmeen knew there would be no playing coy or acting the shrew with him. He would merely dismiss her or have her whipped for her insubordination, never to seek her out again.

There was no other choice in the matter. She reminded herself that as a harem girl, they was given everything they could ask for… the finest food, clothing, oils and perfumes, precious jewels with which to adorn their bodies. Indeed, the Sultan was very kind and generous in his treatment and care of his concubines.

In essence it was a life of leisure and luxury, unparalleded anywhere else in the world…a pampered life not offered to many women. Not to forget, the women were there for one purpose and one purpose only and that was to please and serve their Masters. No request, no act… no matter how lewd or distasteful could be refused.

The more Yasmeen allowed herself to think about Radu, the more determined she was to push him out of her thoughts.

 

[Luna-fey]

Symra

Symra felt eyes on her; she looked around but saw no one staring. She decided that it must be the earlier grisly events that had shaken her. She walked toward the veranda, the lure of fresh air too great. She was permitted to walk freely along the palace grounds as long as she did not stray too far from the festivities.

Before the ceremonies had begun, Symra had been ravenously hungry but the recent events had caused her to lose her appetite. She walked by Idrial and Zynab. Did she dare speak to them?

Symra took the risk and whispered ever so softly in passing, "Do not be afraid; it will be all right." She spoke in Swedish but even if the girls did not understand her, the message of reassurance and comfort lay in the soft caress in her voice.

Perhaps in the cover of night, Symra could sneak them some refreshment. It was not something she had ever done in the past for those who had incurred the sultan's anger. Symra felt a loyalty akin to love for her master. But she felt a special pity for these two girls, who reminded her so much of her homeland. Her heart was torn with conflict.

Symra recalled her own long journey to this strange land. She had been just 18, almost three months since the death of her father. Agnar, a distant cousin, had been appointed her guardian. As a woman she would need to have either a guardian or a husband. Angrily, Symra watched him sqaunder her father's money, drinking excessively. He spent every night at the pub. Symra did not have much and what little her father had been able to leave her, he had worked tremendously hard for.

Agnar betrothed her to a man more than twice her age and every bit as greedy, ill-tempered, and unkind as he was. When Symra saw the strange ship in the harbor she did not ask for specifics. She knew it was a trading ship heading east for fine silks and spices. She crept into the hold in the dark hours of twilight with as much silver as she could carry in her plain brown satchel. She planned to become a seamstress. In the village, her fine skill with a needle and thread was well sought after. But Symra was ill-prepared for her long, seemingly endless sea-journey into the sultan's domain.

 

[cati]

Yasmeen and Kabir Bedi "the hunter"

The leader of the bandit hoard knew exactly whom he was seeking. His anger only accelerated, as one by one the huts were entered, its contents taken and the inhabitants killed, and he still he had not found his prize.

"Where the devil is she?," he muttered under his breath.

The large scar on his forehead raged angry and red, reflecting his ire, the gash a painful reminder of a previous altercation. With his one remaining eye, he scanned the expanse of grey horizon, looking for any sign of approaching horses.

"Surely as death I will kill any man who stands in my way", he thundered.

He pushed his way through the band of bloodspillers, ordering his men to gather the village livestock and the dozen or so remaining horses. Raising his hand, he whistled for his men to reband.

"I offer 100 Kubets to the man who finds the girl. She must not be harmed,,,do you hear…go now, all of you and do not return until you have found her!"

Hearing their orders the band of cutthroats took off in different directions.
Soon, one of the riders found it necessary to separate himself from the others, and now heaved his powerful frame from his saddle and dismounted.
He went down on hands and knees, his face peering hard at the frozen ground, his eyes examining the hoof impressions that the Shamans horse had left behind. Painstakingly, the man touched the imprints with his fingers, outlining each with his rough hands, accessing the time and direction that horse and rider had come.

Gazing off into the distance, he rose and stood, his steely eyes taking in the quiet depths of the nearby wood. Remounting his steed once more he pulled on the horse's reigns, steering the animal in a new direction, taking a path that he judged the Shaman had used before meeting his doom. Keeping his horse at a steady gallop he soon reached a heavy thicket. At this place he halted and once again peered long into the darkness of the wooded area beyond. Horse and rider went back and forth tracing and retracing the outlines of what seemed to be a naturally formed barrier. Finally the man stopped and got down from his horse, tethering the beast to a nearby tree stump. Pulling his scimitar from his pant waist, he entered the dense undergrowth on foot. His eyes ever vigilant and alert, ready to react to any movement ahead of him.

As he moved deeper into the tangled underbrush, he saw what seemed to be some sort of protective barricade. A dense wall of thorns and brambles rose up three metres in front of him, defending the sheltered retreat beyond. The piercing, needlelike thorns tore at his unprotected fingers and hands, bloodying them. Stinging nettles played havoc with his face. He swore and cursed to himself, as he cut and hacked his way through the brambles and curtain of thorns. Now and again, looking over his shoulder to make sure he was not followed. If there was someone hidden here, he or she would be relatively safe from predators... of that he was sure.

"Surely no man or beast would attempt to enter here". No horse would brave this web of daggers".
After much effort Kabir Bedi, for that was the man's name, uncovered the Shaman's hut.

Tabor had made the entrance to his humble dwelling a bit of a puzzle, the entrance was carefully concealed beneath the many layers of felt and leather. Kabir, however was no fool and no stranger to the ways of the Scyths and he easily found his way inside.
The odor of a pungeant narcotic permeated the air. Kabir noted the still glowing embers of a dying fire, and the bowl of smoking cannibis, but very little else. The man knew instantly that if he stayed much longer, he too would fall under the plants's influence, and perhaps jeopardize the lives of both himself and the girl.

It was warm and comfortable inside the dwelling and seemed safe for the time being. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could better see the contents and simple furnishings of the abode. Kabir moved silently about his business, slicing into the flooring and peering under the crudely woven mats, which served as a layer of protection against the frozen earth beneath his feet. He soon came upon the bear skins which concealed the sleeping form of Yasmeen.

Carefully he poked his blade underneath, and then with one swift movement of his dagger he threw off the bearskin. Yasmeen still in a mildly drugged stupour winced as the blade sliced into her arm, but made no effort to move. She lay huddled within the warmth of the furs, dreaming of her childhood, horses and of her family.
Kabir prodded her with his foot.

Get up, girl, he spoke forcefully and in a dialect much like her own.

Yasmeen startled, opened her eyes to see a tall stranger crouching over her.

"Who are you…where is Tabor…what have you done with him? the girl demanded. Yasmeen scrambled quickly to her feet her, wrapping her thin arms around herself in an attempt to conceal her semi-naked state from the man's eyes.

 

[Joe Schmoe]

Father and daughter

As soon as the festivities began and Miranda took to the floor Jalal instructed the Grand Vizier to assume control while he went to attend to his daughter. He had snapped at her while angry and felt upset at himself for doing so. This Holiday was not just for him alone but all of those under the Khalim name.

Royals guards followed him as he made his way to the harem. She had the largest and most lavish apartment in the harem and he suspected that would be were she went.

He slipped through the curtains that enclosed her private chamber to find her curled on her cushions, back to him.

He settled next to her, his fingers toying with the soft tresses of her hair. He spoke softly and calmly.

"You know it grieves me that I spoke to you in such a manner. I never want to bring despair on you. You are the rarest gem I have. You are more to me than all of this around us. You are my little Bu. But, I see now you are not so little."

He looked at her with eyes that see her as a woman but with a heart that still sees a child. His fingers combing through the luxurious softness of her hair.

"It was about slaves, it was about politics and it was about enemies that do not forget the past and those are not things a Sultan's daughter should worry about or dirty herself with. Are you going to remain mad at a father's foolishness when you know he did not mean to hurt the most important and priceless thing in his life?"

His hand left her hair and soothingly stroked her arm/

"Will you continue to allow this heavy burden of grief to weight down a father's heart? Do you truly wish for me to suffer? I pray my daughter loves her father more than that. If she does love him as he hopes she does, she would take a jambiya and cut out his heart to end his misery...or...accompany him back to the ceremonies so a proud father can show off the most beautiful woman in all of the world."

Poking at her side, "shall I get you the dagger?"