Suleiman stretched out on his bed with a smile. The smell of sex and woman surrounded him, reminding him of the endless day of enjoying a new slave. Across the room, the first light of morning reflected against the tile walls. In a few short hours, the city would be fully awake, but at the moment there was only the sounds of Celeste's soft breathing and the bustle of the palace waking up.
He lifted his head to admire Celeste. She was on her belly, one leg hooked up over a pillow. The rounded curve of her ass lead into the smooth line of her spine. Her hair was spread out across her shoulders and back, giving just a hint of her delicate neck. Underneath her, the side of her breast swelled out except for a soft nipple barely visible in the shadows.
With a grin, Suleiman pushed the blanket off his body. His cock was already hard with anticipation. He reached over as he prepared to nestle his cock against the cleavage of her buttocks.
A soft knock stopped him. He sighed and sank back down on his blanket. “Enter.”
Celeste jerked at the sound of his voice but didn't wake. He made a note to remind her that her role was to serve, and she couldn't do it while sleeping. Pretending to sleep was fine, but she should be awake in case he demanded her services.
A young man entered the room, his robe rustling against the tile floor. He was a clerk who dealt with recording the various proclamations that Suleiman made during the day.
“Good morning, Falah,” Suleiman said as he kept an eye on Celeste. The slave still didn't wake.
“My sultan, I'm sorry to interrupt your morning activities.” Falah's eyes drifted over to Celeste and then back to him, “but there is something that requires your attention.”
Suleiman narrowed his eyes and then nodded. Falah would never come into the room unless it was something serious. He slipped out of bed.
Two slave girls, twins, stepped out from the bathing area. They were a different pair from the night before but they were just as obedient as the other bathing girls. All of them knew the price for speaking: one last fuck and a brutal, screaming death. They gathered up his formal robes and dressed him in a short period of time.
Celeste still slumbered by the time he was ready to leave the room. Suleiman looked her over one last time and shook his head. He turned to one of the guards outside of the door. “Wake her up and send her back to the harem. I'll punish her later.”
“Yes, my sultan,” came the dead-panned response. The man had seen more than a few deaths since he first became one of Suleiman's guards.
Suleiman followed Falah down the hall and into his court. For early in the morning, the room was packed with arguing people. In the center, surrounded by three guards, was a young man with a black eye and a fresh cut on his arm.
As he entered the room, the crowd focused on Suleiman. As one, they knelt down or bowed as appropriate. Silence filled the room as everyone watched him walk down the length of the hall to the low table he sat behind. With all the grace he could muster, he settled into place and spoke to the room. “Why is there a mob this early in the morning?”
The room exploded into noise as everyone tried to speak at once.
Suleiman waited a few moments for silence, but everyone seemed insistent on trying to speak louder. Already irritated at Celeste's sleeping, he gave it a minute before gesturing for a guard.
The guard pulled his sword out, the scrape of metal on the scabbard barely audible over the din.
Many people around him realized the danger and stepped back, but there were others that were fixated on Suleiman.
The guard pulled back the sword in a two-handed grip. Stepping forward, he swung his blade in a low cut that whistled loudly before ending in a meaty thunk as the length of the blade buried itself into a large man's stomach.
Silence draped over the room as the man clutched his belly and sank to the ground with a groan. Blood poured out from his fingers as he sobbed before collapsing to the ground.
Suleiman no longer had to raise his voice. He steepled his fingers and addressed the crowd, “What I meant was for one person to explain this. Now, why is there a mob in my palace and who is this man?” He gestured to the injured man in the center of the room.
Two men stepped forward, but after a short look, one backed up. The remaining one spoke quietly. “I'm sorry, sultan, but this bastard stole from us.”
The accused snapped back. “We had a deal and it was a fair purchase.”
“My wife is sick because of your so-called magical potion!”
“Then you didn't follow the directions.”
“If it was so good, why were you fleeing town?”
Suleiman held up his hand. He looked at the young man accused of theft. “If you speak out of turn again, you'll be dead before the sentence leaves your mouth.”
To make his point, the guard jerked his sword out of the dead man's stomach and wiped the blade. Splatters of blood dripped on the ground in the uncomfortable silence.
Suleiman returned his attention to the leader of mob. “Your wife is sick?”
Gulping, the man nodded. “Yes, sultan. As are a number—”
“What did you paid for this man's potion?”
Blushing, the man gave a large amount. From Suleiman's estimate, it was about a quarter what he made in an entire year.
Suleiman sighed and shook his head. “Why?”
“My wife was sick. And I bought into this man's lies that it would cure her.”
The thief opened his mouth, then glanced at Suleiman. With a sigh, he snapped his mouth shut. He lowered his gaze, but not after glancing around toward the doors leading out.
Suleiman fought the quirk in his lip. As much as he had to protect his people, the con man obviously had a good line. He turned to Falah. “This man was leaving town? I assume he had his gains?”
Falah nodded.
“Bring it in.”
“It is a wagon,” before Suleiman could glare, Falah continued, “I'll need some space to bring it in.”
Suleiman chuckled and nodded to the guard to obey. In a flurry of movement, a wagon was brought into the court hall. Suleiman wasn't surprised to see it piled high with gold and valuables, but he was surprised to see three women chained to the back. One of them, a young-looking woman with long dark hair, leaned against the back. The other were also attractive women with large breasts and wide hips, but they didn't have the familiar tone of a skilled dancer and pleasure slave.
The first slave had small, high breasts but they tented the fabric of her dress nicely. She had smooth skin and long, graceful fingers. Her bare feet were visible underneath her gray dress and he spotted a gold ring around one toe.
Suleiman felt a smile crossing his face. She had potential.
As if feeling his look, she glanced up and caught his eyes. Her eyes grew wide with fright and she bowed her head quickly. Her shoulders sank down and she ducked behind the wagon; her chain rattled with her movement.
Tearing his attention away from her, he looked over the wagon again. “Where is this potion he sold?”
The guard dug in the wagon for a moment, then pulled out a leather bag filled with bottles. Carefully, he knelt down and plucked out the contents.
Suleiman picked up the nearest bottle and opened it. A foul stench rose out. It smelled of sewage and left a bitter burn in the back of Suleiman's throat. Frowning, the sultan closed the bottle up and set it down. He turned to the con man. “Did you steal from these people?”
“No, I did not. I sold them my potion and they gave me their possessions willingly. It was a fair trade.”
“And what was it suppose to cure?”
“Everything.” The man's voice grew softer and Suleiman saw fear in his eyes. “It is a miracle potion.”
“Well, I'd like to see it work.”
“Just get me a sick person and I shall cure them.” The man stood up straighter.
Suleiman chuckled. “How about yourself.”
“I'm not sick.”
“No, but you're going to be. I want to see this potion work and you seem like the best person to demonstrate it.”
“It is,” the man's eyes flickered to the side toward one of the windows, “dangerous to use on a healthy being such as myself. Years of using this has made me nearly immune to almost all diseases.”
Suleiman's smile grew. “Well then, if that is true, if you get sick, you are lying.”
“Well, there isn't—”
Suleiman turned to the guard next to him. “I want this man cleaning out the city garbage for a month. Naked. Give him all the potion he needs. If, in one month, he is sick, then have him executed and his belongings returned to their owners. If he remains as healthy as he claims, he keeps everything including any potion he sold.”
He turned back to the room. “Anyone wish to disagree?”
No one said anything but the con man looked sick to his stomach.
“Then report to Falah what you used to purchase the magic potion and bring the bottles back, even empty or partially used. For those who claim they are ill, bring them to the palace healer and we'll see what we can do.”
Suleiman stood up in the silence. No one would look at him and he smiled. Leaning over, he whispered into Falah's ear. “Bring that girl to my room and send the other two down to the kitchens.”
Falah nodded.
Suleiman strode out of the room. Instead of returning directly to his room, he headed out through the gardens. He ordered breakfast in one of his dining halls to a passing slave and then slowed down to enjoy the smells of flowers and scented waters.
He reached the southern part of one garden when he heard Marie speaking over a stone wall. On the other side was the harem garden, a place of privacy for them where only Suleiman could see them from his room.
“I thought he was done with me.” It was Celeste.
“No, he wasn't,” snapped Juliana, “that was a dismissal. You failed him.”
“Doing what?”
“You said it yourself, the guard woke you up. You should have been awake when he woke up.”
“Why?”
“To fuck him, to blow him, it doesn't matter. When he opens his eyes, you better be willing to impale whatever hole he wants on his cock.” Juliana sounded impatient and frustrated.
“When were you going to tell us that?” Celeste cried out. “You said he'll kill us if we screw up.”
Juliana said nothing for a moment. “I didn't think you were going to spend the night.”
“H-How,” rose Lydia's voice, “do you know when he wakes up?”
“I'm not sure. I used to stay up all night, but if he noticed the dark shadows under your eyes, he'll punish you. I guess, you'll just have to wake up before him.”
“Just like that?” asked Celeste. “He could have killed me!”
“I-I know,” said Juliana in a frustrated voice, “I guess… I know! I'll wake you up before sunrise every morning. He gets up with the light and if we can train you, then you'll be up when he does.”
Suleiman smiled and continued along the stone path. Juliana was growing more frustrated with her duties and she would start to make a mistake. And mistakes were fatal in his harem. He enjoyed planning out her death, when she failed to meet his expectations.
At breakfast, Falah brought the slave woman to him.
“My sultan, I present you the slave Victoria.”
Victoria stood at the end of the table, her head bowed and her arms resting on her hips. She had a narrower waist than most of the women in his harem, but her youthful appearance continued to draw his attention.
Suleiman set down his fork. “You look like a dancer.”
“Yes, my sultan.” Her accent wasn't what he expected, it was soft but clipped.
“Where you from?”
“My father is the Count of Aversa,” she had named a kingdom to the west.
“And how did you end up in that thief's possession?”
“My previous owner, Zayd, sold me for a potion that would increase his manhood.”
“And before that?”
Her shoulders tensed. “I was captured by a band of corsairs and brought to the city. I was purchased a year ago.”
“The Count doesn't have a daughter.”
Her eyes flashed as she looked up. “The true,” she spat out the word, “count had a daughter. The back-stabbing bastard that sits there now is my uncle, may he die in a bed of ten thousand fleas!”
She continued to rant for a few minutes and Suleiman let her finish.
When she calmed down, he held up his hand. “You just saw how I handle court. Was there anything there that would suggest I'm interesting in long tirades?”
She blanched. “Oh, I'm sorry, sultan. I didn't mean to offend.”
“Obviously, I can't keep you locked in the storage room for a month. So, I'm giving you one chance to be free of both this thief and your current master. I sense some potential in you. I have high expectations, but if you fail them, you won't live to find out if the thief died. Do you want to join my harem?”
Her eyes lit up. “To be the mistress to the sultan of all sultans? I would be honored.”
He chuckled. “Without knowing what I expect.”
“I'm better than any woman…” her voice trailed off as she realized what she was saying.
“Then, show me. I love dancers, so dance for me. If my manhood responds, you will become one of my harem.”
“If I fail?” Her face was still pale.
“Then, this man right here,” he pointed to a guard who unsheathed his sword, “is going to rape and then kill you right on my breakfast table. And I will have to send for food that isn't splattered with your blood.” Suleiman let his voice end in a growl.
Victoria gulped loudly.
Suleiman clapped his hands. A pair of musicians came rushing and set up their instruments. Less than a minute later, music filled the hall.
She hesitated, but then began to dance. Her style was different than the others. She stretched out one hand and moved in a flowing movement as she brought up her other hand. Bonelessly, she sent a ripple from one hand to the other and back. As the wave rose, so did her breasts.
He watched with attention as she lifted and dropped her breasts, moving with sharp movements that brought attention to the firm mounds straining under her dress.
Most of her movements were in her torso and breasts, but she had incredible control over them. Each position flowed into the next one, drawing attention to her hips, her breasts, and arms with elegant ripples of trained muscles.
With a shimmy, she brought her hips into the dance. Little pops of movement and a shake. If she was wearing fringe or a coin scarf, they would flare out with each twirl, but her dress was a poor imitation of the traditional dancing garb.
She flexed her stomach with the same popping movement, moving in long swirls of movement and ending with a sharp stop. Her body jerked and bumped in time with the music, catching his attention.
Suleiman could see her young body press against the dress. Like the other women in his harem, she wasn't classically beautiful but the enthusiasm and elegance of her dance drew his attention and lust.
Soon, his cock was tenting his robe and he stroked it.
She caught sight of it and smiled, but continued to dance. She shook her hips, almost rattling with the sharp jerking movements that never seemed to stop. He could see the flex of her legs and stomach, keeping her body almost vibrating with the sharp movements.
The song ended just as precum began to darken the fabric of his robe.
Victoria came to a swirling stop and stood there, panting. Her breasts rose and felt with each movement and he could see sweat sparkling along her throat.
“Come here,” he growled.
Sweeping along the ground, Victoria stepped along the table and knelt down from before him. Her eyes stared down at his cock as her smile quirked the corner of her lips.
“Go ahead,” he said.
Her fingers trembled as she opened his robe. Peeling the fabric back, she revealed his large cock to the morning light. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she stared at it. But, she needed no order to know what to do. Inching forward, she wrapped her fingers around his base and brought her lips to his head.
Kissing his head, she worked her lips down around the thick head. Her mouth was hot and slick. She darted her tongue out to explore the opening of his shaft and then down along the sensitive ridge of his glans.
Suleiman leaned back and watched.
Her hair draped down in a curtain of shimmering darkness as she leaned forward, but she used one hand to keep it from blocking his view of her lips stretching around his cock. Sliding down, she took more of his length into her mouth until she was straining near the center.
He could feel the back of her throat with only half his cock inside her mouth. It was tight and wet. He clutched the side of the chair as he waited to see if she would take it further.
Victoria lifted herself up on her knees and then pushed down. The pressure at his tip increased for a moment before he felt a wet release. And then her lips drove all the way down to his base as she buried her nose into his pubic hair.
The heat and pressure was almost too much for him. He shoved up with his mouth as he felt his balls beginning to boil.
She pressed one finger against his base, stopping the flow. His balls twitched from an aborted orgasm and the pleasure increased with the small hints of agony.
Rocking her head back and forth, she slowly drew herself up. His shaft was glistening from her saliva as she reached his tip. Swirling it around her mouth, she bobbed up and down in imitation of her dance. As she moved, her breasts rose and fell and he could feel the soft mounds pressing against his thigh with every shift of her body.
Her skill pushed him over the edge. With a groan, he came inside her mouth.
She didn't jerk or even halt, but continued to flow from one movement to the other. He could feel her gulping as he jetted inside her mouth. Not a single droplet escaped her stretched lips.
Victoria remained in place until he slumped back. She lifted her mouth and smiled. Her lips glistened with his precum but there wasn't another hint that she had just swallowed his seed.
He waited for her to ask a question, but she remained silent. When it was obvious that she knew her place, he gave a nod.
The guard sheathed his sword.
There was a brief flash of triumph in her eyes, but it was quickly hidden with a skill that surprised Suleiman. Victoria could be dangerous, but she obviously knew that being in the sultan's harem was far better than her other options.
“Come,” he said as he stood up, “time to meet the others.”