The Sultan's Slave

“So,” the Sultan said, as he stroked her breasts and belly with a feather from some exotic bird. “You did not want to become a slave, yet you are one anyway.”

“That is right, Sir,” she said. Her hands were bound above her head, her ankles were tied together. This was no longer strange. “I don’t know how this happened, exactly.”

“Tell me, then, what went wrong with your life?”

“I’m not sure. Perhaps if they hadn’t gotten their hooks into my daughter Cassie. Perhaps if I hadn’t lied to my husband about the blackmail. Perhaps if I hadn’t gone to that hotel the first time; if I’d never answered the personal ad.”

“But you did.” His hand roamed over her nipples. The rings Marcus and Jacob had insisted she get made them so much more sensitive. Her husband had never quite understood, but he’d noticed and enjoyed the change. She wondered where he was today.

“Yes, I did. I was lonely, my sex life uninteresting. I thought it was my husband’s fault. Now I’m not so sure. If I’d only been more available to him, more willing to experiment.”

“You have always been willing to try new things with me.” His long middle finger slid between her labia, teasing her clit. She gasped.

“It’s not a question of willing anymore,” she said. “I am what I am.”

He teased her clit with care and precision. Tiny shocks shot through her. He grabbed one of the nipple rings with his teeth, and twisted and pulled on it. She angled her knees out, giving him as much access as he wanted, trying to urge him on.

“Mother. Wife. Free woman?” He asked around her nipple.

“No, not anymore.” He slid two fingers inside her, his thumb pressing on her clit, pressing it and rubbing it. He bit her nipples and she cried out in passion.

“What then? What?”

“Slut. Slave. Concubine in your Harem. Your whore.”

“Yes.” She felt his cock press against her as he continued rubbing her clit. “But you want to go back, right? To be with your husband, your children?”

He stopped playing with her for a moment while she answered. “No!” she almost shouted, unsure of whether she was answering his question or complaining that he had stopped. Both, she knew, deep in her soul. He returned to what he was doing. “I’m yours,” she said. “Always. To do with as you please.”

He grinned. “Come for me my little slave.” She cried out in response. They had trained her well.

“Some day,” he said, as she floated down from orgasm. “You will tell me the whole story of how you came to be here.”

“Yes, your Highness,” she said.

“But for now, I have other needs.” He grabbed her head, wrapping his fingers in her auburn hair, and pulled her head to his crotch.

“Yes, your Highness,” she said as she sucked on his cock.

He let out a sound of exquisite joy.

 

 

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