…a great man dies and another must follow…
In the course of time, all things must end and so it was with Achmed Hussein Ismael, 43rd Grand Sultan of Raninipor. Achmed Ismael had been a good man, a wise leader, brave and steadfast in both War and Peace. Though his kingdom was tiny, it was both prosperous and strong. Loved and admired by all, it was with great sorrow, when the One True God did claim his soul and bear it up to Paradise.
With the passing of the Sultan much responsibility fell upon his sole male heir, the young and vigorous Prince Ali. The throne of the kingdom came to him at but 21 summers. Great was the city of Raninipor and heavy the responsibilities which rested on the young Sultan’s shoulders, agreements of peace, agreements of trade, disputes among the noble houses, and of course both the Burdens and the Pleasures of the Harem.
Prince Ali’s own mother had passed in childbirth long ago and his father in later years had stopped marrying new brides, finding comfort with those that knew him best. Still, at the time of his death, the Harem contained no less than 23 women, ranging in age from slightly over 40 summers to just under 20.
As was the custom and his duty young Ali did take all the wives of the Harem for his own, ensuring those that his father loved would be cared for and igniting a Storm more dangerous than any deep desert sandstorm. If in the end the results could be foretold by the Wise, then the reader is begged to forgive the judgment of a young and inexperienced man, who sought only to honor his father and do that which was best. As sand may blow in the wind and no one predict its place, so like the sand, we are all bound to the will of the One True God and cannot cheat our Fate.
Kali Ben Somar was the head eunuch of his majesty the Sultan’s Harem. He had served thus since the time of Prince Ali’s grandfather and would serve him as well. Kali was like unto a man who stands on a small boat and gazes out to see dark clouds on the horizon. Soon he knew the Storm will come but is powerless to stop it. To other men, the Harem seemed but a place of pleasure and ease. Beautiful women, pampered pets, living only to make Love to their husband, but Kali knew it as a …darker… place.
It was true the women were beautiful, but also both bright and ambitious. Locked in their guilded halls, they had too much the gift of Time. Time to learn each other well. Time to resent. Time for jealous. Time for Hate.. To other men, the Harem was a place of beauty and joy, but Kali knew it for the pit of seething emotions and dark intrigues that is was. He and his enuchs were the guardians of this place, here to protect the Sultan’s rare gems from outsiders and when truth is spoken to protect them from each other as well.
Under the old Sultan there had come a …pecking order… worked out through long and arduous times. A list of importance known only completely to those who lived within the Harem walls. It was based on many things, the order of marriage, children born, those most favored and those not. Even Kali for all his 40 odd summers in the Harem did not understand it completely, but the women did and competed constantly to elevate their own status while diminishing that of a rival.
With the passing of the old Sultan and the coming of the new, all that was …Swept Away… as a man passing his hand over sand leaves no marks behind. Suddenly all were as equals again in a place where the only status set them apart. Sitting in his quarters, Kali held his balding head in both hands. Moaning that such a thing should come to him in his old age, for what the young Sultan could not see, Kali’s weak old eyes saw most frighteningly clear, to the Harem there came now War! It would not be fought with bows or swords. No chariots would dash across the blinding sands, no drums beaten or trumpets blown, but war it would be nonetheless. A vicious, subtle, cruel war. Fought with all the weapons of female intrigue and Kali could not help but think, some …casualites… would fall, before the Storm did pass.
…a young monarch assumes his duties…
At first, there was much apprehension among the women of the Harem. Many had known their husband the Sultan only in his elder years. Others remembered him as a young man, but those memories were faded as flowers left in the sun to dry. Many of his wives regarded him almost as beloved uncle or father, who showered with gifts and attention which they returned with their Affections. As was the custom in a noble house, not one of them had known the Touch of another man and so when soon the young Sultan came to claim his Right it was with fear and sometimes weeping they went to meet their new lord and master, but this soon …changed.
Sultan Ali was a young and vigorous Stallion. All who feared him were quickly put at ease by his kind words and gentle manner. Those use to the affections of an older man soon found their bodies responding, turning to …FLAMES… at his soft but demanding touch. Long into the night they lay …entwined… with his young, strong body, his arms wrapped around them, even as their thighs did curl about his hips. Again and again, he would …PLUNGE… himself into them until their lips …SQUEALED… their Love and Desire for their new, young Prince. Even as a morning mist will vanish at the light of the sun, so their fears were all dispelled and their dread turned to thoughts only of Desire.
Their rivalries, like hot embers left to smolder in the sand, flamed anew with savage Passion, much as a man castes oil into a still, glowing fire. The Change was subtle, but Kali, could feel it thick in the air of the Harem. He and the other eunuchs watched their charges like desert hawks, but always there was the …tension… before a great Storm breaks, and the True One God had given a man but two eyes. Fortunately for Kali it would not be his negligence that ignited the first spark, but the careless words of a passionate young man. Nevertheless, once the FLAMES were lit, no man could hope to stop what followed.
…Two favorites and the difference of Love and Hate…
In the course of Time, young Ali came to Know all of the wives of the Harem. He was a dutiful son and a dutiful husband and none were shunned from his bed. While all were savored, the passions of two quickly burned most Bright and came more and more often to service their young husband’s Needs. This they did most willingly because the fire in his heart had ignited the flames in their own and when away from him, they did nothing but mourn the hours until again they could feel his touch. But Love was not the only passion the young Sultan stirred in their delicate chests, because even as their passion for him grew so their …distaste… for each other festered, turning quickly into jealous and then hate.
One was named Afina and her age was better than 30 summers but less than a sum of 40. She was of but average height with a slim and graceful body. Her face was fine featured, like those of the legendary sylphs who storyteller’s claimed danced at midnight in the rolling waves of the warm sea. Her skin was dusky, her eyes a warm brown, her lips most inviting. Her hair, rich and brown fell straight back over perfectly formed shoulders and her smile could melt the heart of stone and her flashing, gaze, make the strongest man hesitate at her temper.
Jalilaa was a young and hot-tempered beauty for the lands far to the west. Her skin was pale like milk, but her hair, long and dark. Slightly taller than her rival, she too had a lithe figure, almost like the feather of dove turned into feminine form. Her eyes were dark and piercing, her smile like a summer moon, her laugh water to a thirsty man. Her heart too beat with great Passion and as much as it was filled with Love for her new husband, it contained only burning hatred for the rival who vied with her for a favored place in his bed.
Kali’s old but experienced eyes, quickly caught the tension in the eyes of these ferious rivals. There could be …no doubt… of the meaning of their looks or the stiffness of their postures when the other was near. Cruel words were soon exchanged, savage taunts, great Insults. Soon the enuch’s would allow them no closer than 10 paces, but even then the quarrels ensued day after day in the humid and breathless quarters of the Harem.
Soon Kali sought out his new master and in whispered words, warned him of this problem. Young Ali paid close attention to the old man’s words, but what does a young man know of a woman’s true Heart? He heard the warning but mistook the risk and in doing so laid a path that could only lead to Tragedy ahead. In his young mind he considered Love and Hate very different things. Little did he realize they are divided by a line so thin it can only be divided with a razor. Knowing their Love for him, he believed he could dispel their Hate of each other. Men may now call him a Fool, as most young men are, but let no one question the purity of his goal..
…a young man brings together that which he should not…
The burdens on a new ruler are many. Long hours spent in dusty debate. Tiring lectures on trade, and travel and war, but the young Sultan withstood these burdens and his thoughts turned often to his two desert flowers whose thoughts for each other were only of anger and bitterness. Any man can make mistakes and a young man, not scarred by the years, is more vulnerable than most. So it was in his wisdom, that he decided to invite both frail beauties to share his bed, so that they could talk and he could make peace between those he loved most. Talked had worked in trade, and in diplomacy, he saw no reason it should not serve him here. Little does the young man understand the Passions in a female Heart.
When the time he judged right, the enuchs brought him both blushing wives, to share his bed and make peace. Much …Hisssssssing… and many …Snarls… where to greet his ears that night, as each laid eyes upon the one she was expected to share her Beloved with. Angry were their growls and harsh their words, but Ali was a man and trained in the ways a man must handle a woman.
His voice was not harsh but ….Firm… and in time, both gave in and soon each was cuddled against him, one under each arm, resting their lovely heads on his shoulders as they nestled their bodies into his own. Soon the slight garments they had worn to tempt him were discarded and their bared breasts …pressed… on opposite sides of his chest, as their hips …rubbed… the sides of his own, their womanhood’s hot with excitement and desire.
Their kisses fell soft and hot on his cheeks and they spoke of their love and need for him in soft whispers. Surely young Ali felt he must have died and entered Paradise to have two such sensual and eager females begging for his manhood that night, but for all they lavished him with attention, each was …most aware… the other was near.
As they ran their hands over his chest, down his belly, and across his thighs, from time to time fingers would brush or hands touch. Such contact was always answered quickly with a fast SLAP or small but vicious Scratch! As their passions mounted, so did the contacts and the rebuke of each was harsher. At first young Ali failed to notice, but when they raised their heads from his shoulders and …GLARED… at each other, he could not mistake their intent.
Quickly he rebuked them, balancing between the strong but not cruel. Then he lay between them and spoke long, about his Love for them and love of the family. That they should be as sisters to each other and there was no need for this Quarrel. Each listened and eagerly drank in the words of his Passion, but of peace, they listened to not at all. As dawn’s pale light began to break in the east, he sent them to the Harem, knowing neither the peace nor satisfaction of their bodies.
…a mistake repeated….
Late the next day, he sent first for Afina and then for Jalilaa, taking each in turn with great Passion. It was if the long hours of the previous night had only excited them both. Pleased but puzzled by this the young Sultan failed to see the threat which lay ahead. Thinking his plan most sure, he brought them together often, to lay beside him at night, whispering their Love in his ears as their hands …glided… over his muscular body. Then the next day he would take each in turn again, finding great Pleasure in this new game, thinking in Time the three would share a Love when in fact, each night was only stroking a dark Fury.
Long are the desert nights when Afina would lay against his right side and Jalilaa would cuddle to his left. They would rub their soft, warm, bodies into his own, promising great Pleasures to their husband and lord, if only he would send the other away. From time to time, a head would rise up, to …stare… across his chest at the hated enemy and beautiful lips would hiss a low insult, or taunt. No blows were exchanged because their husband had forbidden, but all the same, the quarrels grew only more bitter. Young Ali hoped in time talk would mend all wounds. Also to his surprise, their venomous words to each other, seemed to excite him almost as much as their promises of carnal reward. Often hours would pass and his manhood would rise up stiff as the mightiest oak rod. The women quickly noticed his reaction and perhaps guessed this weakness, this flaw in an otherwise noble man.
Their hands would …stroke… up and down… his manhood as they begged their husband for permission to redeem their Honor in physical battle. With his eyes half closed, he always refused this, but in his heart, he began to …wonder… what would be the result of such a passionate Clash. From time to time he would look from dark Afina to pale skinned Jalilaa and wonder what they would look like as their bodies entwined together. It was an idle thought, a careless thought. Perhaps the women sensed his interest, for night after night each mixed whispers of Loves with Threats for her enemy, often speaking in detail of what she would do once the she-camel was down. And each day after would be followed by Wild, Passion, lovemaking, inflaming the hearts of them all. Young Ali, was a nobleman. A good man. But even a good man can only be ….tempted… so far.
A careless word leads to Conflict…
One evening, like many evenings before, young Ali lay in his rich bed of silks with Afina tucked under his right arm and Jalilaa nestled warmly under his left. His powerful, hands rubbed softly over their bare smooth backs and reached down to their well-rounded bottoms, as they whispered words of Love and Desire in his ears.
Afina …pushed… her small but perky breasts, into his muscled ribs. One hand stroked his hair softly as the other glided …teasingly… over one of his nipples. Her tongue traced the side of his neck and then her full lips moved to …suck… on one earlobe. “Sweet husband”, she whispered, “I beg of you my Lord, send the …diseased she-goat… to her chambers. I desire only to make Passionate Love with you until the sun rises to shine on our loved wet bodies. I beg you my husband, my Desire for you …BURNS… like flames in the desert night. Please, Love, deny not one who cares for you so.”
Jalilaa raised her head slightly to …glare… over young Ali’s chest, before bringing her hot lips to his cheek. Her firm breasts …pushed… against him, each nipple a furious pink point of Desire. “Listen not to the old harpy’s Lies my Lord”, her soft voice whispered. “It is my body that can show you …Endless… Love. She is a date fallen from the palm and left to wrinkle in the sand. Send her away that I can show you my Hunger for your Sword.”
Ali lay in the silks listening to these words of Love and Possession and they thrilled him like the forbidden spoil of the grape. His body trembled to their erotic touches and his manhood rose quickly to quiver in the air like an arrow waiting for only the archer’s …release.
Afina now raised her head slightly …staring… over her man’s chest at the woman who would cheat her of his bed. “You are one to call names, daughter of a clumsy peasant whose father is a Dog. Grateful you should be, my husband forbade me touch you, or I would reward your sharp tongue with my Nails.” Resting her head down again Afina …slowly… drew her right leg up, allowing her toes to …trace… the inside of her Lover’s thigh.
Jalilaa allowed her tongue to …SWIRL… a moment in her husband’s ear and then let her hand …steal… over his hip to caress his swelling manhood. Glancing over at Afina with …burning eyes.. .she replied, “You are the lucky one haggard witch. Eagerly would I pit my body against yours to …prove… that my Love for my Sultan is strong and yours a sham.” As her fingers …stroked… his manhood from base to tip and back she whispered, “Send her away, my Prince that I may show you the Love you truly Deserve.”
Ali lay silent on the bed, feeling their hands move over him even as they quarreled. His body hungered for theirs but he knew he could show no favor this night. The next day seemed most far away when two eager lovers …Beg… for him to be inside them. Also, their quarreling brought back …other dreams…, desires he tried to best force aside, but that came bubbling back up and into his mind, like the black tar that sometimes wells up unbidden from the sands.
Afina’s hand now stroked one side of his trembling manhood, her touch so soft, he thought he would explode, even as Jalilaa’s fingers worked their female magic from the other. He tossed his head from side to side, like a man lost in a sudden fever from which there was no escape.
Afina …glared with hatred… at her rival and said, “Surely count yourself most blessed, desert whore, that my husband holds me back. For but at a single Word, I would show him, my Love is most True. You are nothing but a viper, laying in the sand, waiting to bite those who would hear your poisonous lies.”
Ali …MOOOOOANNNED…on the silks his chest heaved with the passions they stirred in him. Finally, he whispered, ‘Women. In the name of the One True God will you give me no peace?” His chest shuddered and then he continued, “If you cannot find peace in my arms, perhaps you can find it in each other’s.”
Afina and Jalilaa raised their heads off his shoulders glancing first at each other and then askance of their husband. He drew a single breath then muttered, “May the One True God decide what a man cannot. Fight!”
…of Love and Hate….
For a moment Afina’s eyes widened, but she needed no other urging. She turned her gaze to Jalilaa even as she pushed first up onto one elbow then to the palm of her hand. Rising to one knee she …THREW… herself forward, sliding easily over the chest and hips of her husband and …FULL… onto the body of her Enemy and Rival.
Jalilaa had seen her …intent… and rolled to her back, spreading her arms and her legs wide as she awaited the coming of her Enemy. As Afina’s lithe body DROPPED onto her own, she quickly WRAPPED her arms and legs around her rival and …TWISTED… to the left, tossing Afina onto her right side, even as Jalilaa …ROLLED… with her. Quickly they THRASHED and CURLED on the sheets, their slim bodies pressed …FULLY…into each other from breasts to bellies to the curve of their Venus mounds. Arms locked around slender backs, as long legs struggled to wrap over hip or curl behind thigh. Their hatred …long brewing… like a bitter desert tea, they came together in a INSTANT, and LOCKED in all-out battle.
Ali rolled onto his left hip, his eyes wide and startled for a moment by the quickness of the thing. Carefully he watched Afina and Jalilaa’s intense but almost silent struggle. He had expected screaming perhaps. Name calling. Slaps and cries, but instead there was only intense desperate breathing and the occasional grunt of effort or moan of pain. As his eyes studied them, he soon realized this was no minor squabble, as between children who will soon be scolded and sullen. This was a FIGHT fought with all their heart and all their passion. As he watched, a knot formed in his stomach because even now, some omen warned him this battle was to the End. That neither would hold back until one or the other had taken her Enemy’s life. Already the young Prince regretted his careless words, but his house was an old and noble one, and his Word, once given, could not be taken back. With a mixture of regret and excitement, he lay in the silks as he watched his two favorites FIGHT, each most desperate to take the other’s lifeblood.
…a battle joined…
As they lay entwined in the silks Afina’s dark arms and legs stood out clearly around the pale flesh of her rival, even as Jalilaa’s white limbs were in contrast to her enemy’s dusky flesh. Afina’s right arm passed over her rival’s shoulder, her hand pressing against the small of Jalilaa’s back. Afina’s left hand curled under the Jalilaa’s right armpit and her hand was stretched high until her fingers could CLENCH in Jalilaa’s dark, straight locks.
Afina’s thighs wrapped around either side of Jalilaa’s pale left thigh, Afina’s right leg curled almost over her enemy’s hip, while her left pressed upward between milky-colored thighs. Jalilaa’s left hand was beneath her and even sitting up, young Ali could see it not. The right was curled behind Afina’s shoulder and CLUTCHED at her rival’s chestnut brown strands. Jalilaa’s left leg pressed between Afina’s dusky thighs, and her right curled hight, over her enemy’s hip and down across the small of her back. Each woman held the other’s hair but did not YANK or JERK as one might, who wished to tear the tresses from another, instead they ….PULLED… with a hard, steady pressure. Only when he saw their …bared teeth… did he know the reason for this.
Leaning closer he could see their clenched bodies press …TIGHTER… bared breasts RUBBING over bared breasts, smooth tummies gliding across the other’s and each favorite with one thigh pressed …FIRMLY… into the womanhood of her rival. Locked together now, all sudden motions ceased and at first Ali believed the battle was ended before it began, lost in a hopeless draw, then he as watched they began to make …slow …deliberate …motions … their lithe bodies arching and squirming as slender limbs made strong from dance, clutched at each other in slow struggle for position and advantage.
Afina slowly twisted in the grip of Jalilaa, managing with effort to cross her calves over the back of Jalilaa’s left leg, up close to her knee. With her legs together she began to …SQUEEZE… even as Jalilaa …gave a low …gasp… and struggled to change her own grip. Jalilaa, forced her left leg straight out, and hooked her right ankle over left shin, allowing her to …SQUEEZE… back, around Afina’s left thigh. The muscles of their slim and lovely legs stood out, in graceful curves as each …tormented… the other with hard, steady, PRESSURE. Above, the battles between breasts continued without respite, smooth orbs …THRUSTING and GRINDING… as if each struggled to grind her rival’s breasts OFF! Leaning closer, young Ali could see their nipples were especially long and stIff, aroused and swollen as they attempted each to STAB them into the others delicate udders. Their faces were nose touching nose and each GLARED her hatred back into her rival’s eyes, their chests heaving with desparate breaths as they Struggled.
Pulling on Jalilaa’s hair, Afina’s beautiful lips curled in a savage smile as she whispered, “Long have I prayed for this moment, daughter of a Pig. At nights I prayed in fevered passion for my Lord to but speak the word that would allow me to punish you as you so deserve. Know you will pay for you Insults tonight, but take comfort you will not live long to regret them.”
Jalilaa ….PULLED… back on Afina’s hair as her beautiful faced contorted in Hatred and Anger. Foolish are you sister of Dogs, to think to face me in Battle. Only my Lord’s endless patience has saved you, but tonight you are through. You are …unworthy… of his Love. Unworthy to have his Seed. I will make you suffer for your cruel lies but your end will save my Husband from your venom forever. Then I will bear my Husband a son.”
Afina curled the fingers of her right hand then and slowly ….drew… them up the middle of Jalilaa’s back, Afina’s long, curved nails leaving bloody lines across her rival’s pale flesh almost to the shoulders. Jalilaa threw her head back, eyes almost shut as she clenched her teeth in a soundless scream.
“Do you like the Taste of my nails tramp of the west? Fear not, your back is but the start, soon they will savor more delicate fruit.” Snarling Afina continued, “Your womb is barren, you have born no child. The only thing your womanhood conceives is dust and foul odors.”
Jalilaa WIGGLED then, trying to get her left arm up, but her own weight keeping it trapped half beneath her. Staring into the eyes of her enemy she hissed, “I am Young and your womb has produced nothing but girl children. It is my womb that will bare a King and tonight you Die!”
“You Dare”, Afina hissed back, “Fine then let it be so between us. To the Death!”
“Yes”, Jalilaa replied, “To the Death.”
Young Ali’s body trembled then, even though he was a man and a warrior for he knew their tone and recognized only Truth there. A small tear rolled down from one eye, but he wiped it away. Tears were for women and a man must keep his word as his father taught. Sitting up in the silks, he crossed his legs and watched as he waited to see which of his favorites would be Victoress and which Vanquished.
…a battle continued…
For a long time, nothing else was said, only the slow STRUGGLE of body against body in a desperate, deadly Embrace. Legs flexed and SQUEEZED, arms clutched, breasts battled and hair was …PULLED! Curling her right hand Afina …drew… her nails across the back of Jalilaa’s shoulders from right to the left. Jalilaa this time made no attempt to conceal her …moaaaaan… of Pain. The nails did not cut deep, but they drew blood all the same.
For all her youth and strength, Ali could not help but wonder if Jalilaa had underestimated her older rival. Separated by almost a dozen summers, still, Afina’s body was lithe and taut like strands of hemp, each wound around the other until the sum was Strength. Jalilaa, curled her left leg inward, slipping it behind the right calf of her enemy. Then she began to rock …slowly… at first …but with greater and greater effort. There seemed no purpose to this, but at one peak, Jalilaa was able to slip her left arm out from under her own body and dig her elbow into the silks.
With this leverage she quickly …ROLLED… Afina onto her back. Afina moved her left leg higher on her rival’s body, curling the thigh upwards as the calf crossed the small of Jalilaa’s back. Their bodies still clenched tightly, Jalilaa quickly brought her left hand up now and …SANK… her nails immediately into Afina’s delicate face. Feeling her enemy’s reach, Afina turned her head left and thus saved her eyes, but Jalilaa’s nails DUG into the side of her face as her gloating enemy ….PULLED… them slowly down Afina’s right cheek.”
“Ah! No my face! No”, Afina wailed as Jalilaa’s nails did their work.
“Oh does it Hurt, sister of a Sow? Perhaps you had forgotten this pantheress too has CLAWS!”
Afina’s only answer was a SCREAM of Pain and Hate as her enemy brought her nails in again to …RAKED… across Afina’s forehead bringing much blood. As they struggled Afina, curled her right leg around the back of her pale rival’s right thigh, using the body of her enemy to …pull… herself slightly downward. Jalilaa, content to maul her rival’s face, seemed not to notice this small move until Afina’s right hand SHOT OUT, and clutched Jalilaa’s left wrist.
A desperate struggle quickly followed, as each struggled for control, their locked arms wavering and trembling out to the side. It was clear to Ali that Afina’s right was stronger than Jalilaa’s left, but the younger woman’s position above allowed her to use her weight to advantage.
Slowly her body …sank…lower, her firm breasts dangling as she battled to free her left hand. Suddenly her hand JERKED free, and she seemed a moment surprised. A moment too long as Afina twisted under her and …SANK… her teeth into Jalilaa’s left breast. With a …HOWL… of pain, Jalilaa tried to PUSH her away, using her left arm and rolling them to the side and then OFF the raised platform that served as Prince Ali’s bed. The two battling women suddenly vanished from sight followed instantly by a …THUD… on the hard, cold tiles.
Moving quickly to the edge of the bed, Ali was in time to see Afina curl up her right leg and …SHOVE…. Jalilaa away. The woman broke apart and quickly struggled to their feet, their bodies covered in sweat, mixed here and there with blood. Jalilaa’s left breast clearly showed the marks of her rival’s teeth, the twin crescents, just below the nipple.
Both women quickly scrambled to their feet and Ali wondered if perhaps the battle was over. A part of him hoped for this very much, but a small part as well, perhaps still hungered to see which was the better between them. He need not have feared, for as Jalilaa examined the bite upon her breast and Afina wiped blood from her face, it was clear from their …glares… there would be …no Mercy this night.
Spreading their legs and crouching low, each raised her hands chest high and nails OUT! Slowly they came together and began to …circle… each stalking her rival for Love.
Soon they began to …test… each other, making short feints with their nails scratching for face, or breasts. Each seemed most skilled at either stepping aside or turning the other’s attacks with her forearms. They seemed very talented at this for it being the first time, as Ali remembered how clumsy a man is when first given a sword. He wondered if the Harem contained Secrets even a Prince might not know?. Then his thoughts were distracted as Jalilaa came …LEAPING… at her rival the nails of her left hand SLASHING for Afina’s eyes.
This is when Afina’s small height proved advantage rather than not. That and a life time of the dancer’s art. Too late to step back, she went to the balls of her feet and arched backward, bending her upper body almost parallel to the floor as Jalilaa’s nails passed …inches… from the tip of her nose. As her foe stumbled past, she whipped her body into a low crouch, reaching out with her left hand to RAKE her claws across Jalilaa’s exposed belly. Turning at almost the same time, Jalilaa was clutching her stomach with one hand as Afina, quickly reached in and SLASHED her nails down her rival’s face, the tips of her nails clipping even one perk breast in their travels. With a SHRIEK of pain and anger, Jalilaa curled up her right leg, catching her rival between belly and mound and driving her stumbling back into one of the ornate stone columns holding up the palace roof.
Seeing Afina, stagger into the stone and GASP, Jalilaa raised her nails and LEAPT at her, but Afina quickly rolled to her right, as Jalilaa’s nails found only cold rock. As Jalilaa turned from the column, Afina was waiting and curled up her right leg and ….RAKING… her toenails down the front of Jalilaa’s bare left thigh. Her pale rival quickly answered with a …SLASH…across Afina’s dusky breasts and the two staggered into the middle of the room again, their nails up and their bodies …circling.
Covered in sweat and their own blood, they looked savage, almost primal to young Ali’s eyes, like some elemental female force, blown howiling in from the desert, powerful and unstoppable. For all the damage their beauty was still plain for any to see, and Ali felt his heart ….tremble… in awe of their Passion, as they struggled to the Death for his Love. Clearly, despite their stamina and energy both were growing tired and Ali wondered if perhaps this strange contest might still end with no clear result, then with a SCREAM and a LEAP, his females were after each other again, fighting with all their instincts against the rival for their Mate.
Both moved so quickly it was impossible for Ali to determine which had started first. Jalilaa come in both hand SLASHING for Afina’s face, but Afina threw her hands to the floor, causing Jalilaa to stumble over her and fall. As Jalilaa rose to her feet again, Afina was ready and POUNCED on her rival’s back. Jalilaa stumbled forward, falling once more upon the silken bed, causing the young Sultan to roll quickly aside less he be caught in their battle. Down on the silks once more, they TWISTED and SQUIRMED as Afina’s right hand CLAWED for her enemy’s eyes, while her right punished Jalilaa’s soft breasts with cruel cuts. Jalilaa could feel Afina’s strong legs …CURLING… around her waist. She quickly …THRUST… her body upward and then …TURNED… aided by the slickness of her own blood and sweat. Her dusky rival continued to CLAW for her face and she dropped heavily on her enemy, pressing her face closely to Afina’s body and slipping downward so only the back of her head was exposed. Suddenly there was a terrible SHRIEK and Afina was pulling at Jalilaa’s hair with both hands. Leaning closer he could see the pale brunette’s teeth …BURIED… in Afina’s right breast, perfectly obscuring the nipple. Afina’s frantic cries, make it clear she knew her enemy would take the nipple if she could. Much frantic FLAILING of limbs followed and only a chance knee, striking the side of Jalilaa’s head, dazed her for a second, allowing Afina to pull her throbbing breast free from Jaliaa’s bite..
Shaking her head, Jalilaa reached for her enemy again and they quickly LOCKED hands, as Jalilaa lowered her body onto that of Afina. Squirming Afina managed to ROLL her to one side, but quickly the woman’s legs were TANGLED again and this time there was no escape.
At this point, something occurred which would puzzle Ali for many days and that he could not understand. Their arms stretched out and trembling, the women lay back from each other, but were joined most closely at the waist. For a time their hips shifted and moved and Ali thought they struggled for top place, but as he watched longer, the motions were …too rhythmic… too constant… to serve such a cause. Leaning closer his eyes, opened wide and a small …gasp… escaped his lips as he realized they were sex on sex. Staring coldly into each other’s eyes, their hips …moved and moved again… and there could be …no doubt… they were …RUBBING… into each other.
Many thoughts then crossed the young Prince’s mind, but all was confusion. ‘What could it mean? Was this truce at last? How could they love on each other and still look with such cold hatre?’ It made no sense to his puzzled young mind but Kali the head enuch could have explained most well. There were many ways a woman can struggle with another and no less serious are one than most.
The rocking of hips continued without pause. Minute pasted minute and soon their arousal was most plain. Afina’s face gleamed with perspiration and her breath came quick and short, as it always did before she tumbled into the …Taste of Paradise. Kalilaa was biting her lower lip, but the flush in her cheeks and then flaring of her nostrils gave clear knowledge of her Passion. Soon her Rose would Bloom as some say.
It continued onward and onward, both woman now ….gasping and moooaning… under their breaths as her rival used her ….every sexual Secret ….her every Erotic Passion… to drive her enemy wild with Desire. Their bodies ….SQUIRMED and TWISTED… on the silks as their passion grew and Prince Ali felt his own manhood …THROBBING… with ardent Passion.
Suddenly there was a …SCREAM… that was not quite a scream as of pain but one of Pleasure RELEASED! Jalilaa’s pale form …SQUIRMED… on the silks as her body EXPLODED in orgasm. As the Pleasure swept through her, her grip weakened and Afina, quickly pulled her hands free. With a firm …SHOVE…. she pushed her womanhood into that of Jalilaa once more, quickly drawing another SCREAM of Passion from her rival, a sounded tinted now with a note of Desparation and Despair. Afina quickly pulled her legs free as well and sat up as Jalilaa tried to roll AWAY. A mistake.
Quickly Afina’s hands found her rival’s dark hair, PULLING her backward even as her dancer’s legs WHIPPED around the back of her enemy’s head. Her legs went straight, ankle crossing ankle as she began to …SQUEEZE… with all her remaining strength. Jalilaa realizing she was trapped, gave a low moaning …SOB…. and clawed weakly at Afina’s dusky thighs, but her rival only continued to apply greater pressure. Pulling on Jalilaa’s hair, she whispered, “Feel the heat of my womanhood on your neck, daughter of dung beetles?”
Baring her teeth, she squeezed HARDER on Jalilaa’s head as she continued to taunt her. “My womb shall bear a King, but soon you will be once more with the offal from which you came.” Then Afina, begin to ….TWIST… her hips, turning slowly as she used both hands to grab Jalilaa’s flailing right arm, stretching it out, as her hips moved …more and more…. to the left, turning Jalilaa’s head with her. Their bodies remained LOCKED for a moment and then there was a loud ….SNAP… which filled the dark chamber, a sound as if a man had broken a stick of wood under heel. Jalilaa’s body SPASMED for a moment, kicking and twitching as Ali had seen me do often in death and then she lay still, but Afina continued to clutch her and it was not until much time had passed that she released her legs with a breathless …sigh… and slumped unconscious to the silks.
Rising from the bed, Prince Ali, moved quickly to her side. He glanced at Jalilaa for a moment, but her posture told he her time was Done. Lifting Afina, in his strong arms he carried her to the low couch by the window to allow the cool night air of the desert to bath her sweat drenched body. Leaving for a second then returning, he poured a small amount of honeyed water across her lips and then began to wash the sweat and blood from her body. Her eyes fluttered open and she stared at him as if confused a moment, then her eyes took in the still form of Jalilaa still sprawled on the silks. Quickly she was in his arms, sobbing hysterically as he held her close, cradling her gently until her sobs stilled and turned in time to …soft kisses. He raised her face to his and as their lips …touched… he ….THRUST… his manhood within her. Quickly her legs curled around his strong hips and THRUST was met with THRUST until they screamed their Love for each other into the desert night. Long did they make Love on the couch that night and the morning sun when it came found them both in exhausted slumber.
In late morning Kali was summoned to the Sultan’s bed chamber and the events of the evening revealed. Afina was back in the harem, being bathed and attended by servants. If her mood seemed subdued, it showed no sign of remorse. The body of Jalilaa, lovely in Life, now lay sprawled unlovely in death. Like a rose once treasured and now trampled under foot. The young Sultan wept as he told his tale and Kali comforted him as much as slave can do for a master. He had no words of rebuke, but his mind reeled at how foolish and daring the young can be. Prince Ali sworn no such event would occur again and Kali nodded, but he knew it was already too late. Even as Jalilaa’s body was carried from the sleeping chamber, word has spread through the Harem, of Afina’s victory and her rival Jalilaa’s downfall. A precedent had been set. No longer was the war in the Harem a battle of simply words, wits, and intrigue. It was now possible for one female to meet her rival in physical battle and through it achieve the success she Desired.
Kali walked slowly back to the Harem. Not even one season was past and already one Treasure was lost. Even now Afina, walked the cool marble rooms of the Harem, her eyes flashing and arrogant, her body baring the marks of her savage battle and ultimate victory over her hated foe. All the women watched her, some with a smile of contempt, but other’s with glinting calculation. He would go to the slave pens of course and tell Hassan that more enunchs would be needed by the Court. Men would scream as they were gelded like cattle, but it could not be helped. Even with the extra men, Kali’s old eyes could see the Storm coming and he was not sure anything could hold it back!