3 comments/ 31395 views/ 25 favorites Escape From the Harem By: Emma1994UK Chapter 1. The most opulent chambers in Topkapi palace belonged to the Sultan. The great hall was decorated with finery from all over the empire. The floor and walls were covered with blue, green and white tiles with abstract patterns on them. These were local from artisans in Constantinople. The floor was covered with deep blue rugs with flower patterns. The ceiling had a large chandelier with crystal made in the Balkans. There were worked bronze braziers from Egypt throughout the room to supply warmth. At the very front of the room was a low divan with yellow silk cushions from Baghdad. It was there that the Sultan sat, nude, except for his fez. Before him knelt the most exotic treasure of all, a young woman from the hills of Lebanon. Miriam was nude as well, she had her mouth upon his cock and her hands upon his balls. She was only 18 years old but she was a master of her art. The Sultan had selected her out of his vast harem. One of the Eunuchs had fetched her, told her to prepare and then led her here; yet she made the encounter feel like a chance meeting between the most intimate of lovers. She had walked in wearing a short silk robe which did little to hide her pear shaped breasts and rode nearly to her thighs. Wordlessly she walked up to the Sultan and kissed him full on the lips passionately, but hurriedly. The Sultan felt need building within him as her delicate mouth glided over his. While still engaged in a series of kisses she removed the Sultan's outer jacket and tunic, her smooth hands were constantly working over his chest. She broke the kiss, stepped back and cast off her robe. The yellow fabric spilled to the ground and crumple into a puddle. She was naked, vulnerable, and exposed to the Sultan's gaze. She flushed with that thought. Her dark pink nipples stood out in anticipation and her nude, hairless sex glistened between her thighs. She had but one ornament, a thin gold chain with a large pearl set at the end. This always sat between her large breasts as it was a gift from the Sultan. He had given it in appreciation for her art and as a constant reminder of her of her role; the Sultan's pearly essence was always to be nearest her heart. She had fallen to her knees and slowly and lowered the Sultan's silk pantaloons. He stepped out of them and she cast them to the side. Then she raised herself up on her knees until her mouth was at the level of his cock. Artemis had dark and sleepy eyes. She opened them wide and looked up at him. She seemed both unsure what to do and pleading to be allowed to continue. Her demure look overwhelmed the Sultan and his manhood began to stiffen. Miriam smiled with knowing delight when she saw this, breaking the illusion of her inexperience. The Sultan or his rampant manhood seemed to take no notice of this. Miriam was delighted that he had so quickly succumbed to her charms. She deftly ran her hands underneath his balls. She caressed them gently and reveled in their smooth, supple texture. She leaned forward and gave a few tentative licks on the head of his cock. She enjoyed seeing how the strange object would jerk with each touch of her tongue. It seemed like an entirely different entity than the Sultan; one entirely with a mind of its own. Only the Sultan's ragged breathing reminded Miriam that the two were linked. She was not allowed to play around with this delightful creature forever. She began her oral assault in earnest, peppering the beautiful veined shaft with light kisses. She licked the underside of the glans with her tongue. The Sultan moaned softly with his deep masculine voice which let Miriam know her ministrations were having their desired effects. She engulfed the very tip of the shaft into her mouth and ran her tongue around it feeling every delightful ridge and crevice. She began this slowly and then began to work faster until she was bobbing back and forth with a blinding speed. She was certain in the Sultan had been driven crazy with lust. A salty fluid began to form at the tip of his cock and mixed with the heavy, manly taste of his flesh. She worked her mouth farther down the shaft applying a gentle sucking pressure as she went down. Finally the shaft was entirely engulfed and her nose nestled against the Sultan's pubic hair. She smiled inwardly as one who has accomplished a great task. She continued to move with greater vigor, shaking her head from side to side as she went alternating the sensation on every inch of the cock between her soft lips, smooth cheeks and constantly worming tongue. The Sultan was well beyond any rational thought. He was only able to revel in the marvelous feelings throughout his penis. Mindlessly he stroked the woman's thick black hair and mumbled words of encouragement. Throughout his body the tension began to build. He tried to hold back, but Miriam's skill far outweighed his willpower. He felt as if lightning flashed directly behind his eyeballs and then a torrent of come began shooting out of him. He bellowed as the orgasm rocked his body and placed his hand on her shoulder for support. Slowly his penis grew soft in the warm, loving depths of her mouth. She let it fall out and it hung limply near the Sultan's balls. "Have I pleased you my sultan?" Miriam asked. "I have done my best," she added. Her hair was askew from her exertions. A small rivulet of jism ran from the side of her mouth to her chin; but she paid it no heed. "Yes, my dear, greatly," the Sultan replied, out of breath. "I am delighted. Is there anything else which the sultan desires?" Miriam asked with a slight smirk. While speaking she lifted up a leg so she was resting on a foot and slowly spread that leg out revealing her the slit of her nude sex. "No, nothing else at all," replied the Sultan. "As it pleases you, my lord," she replied with a note of disappointment in her voice. She stood up and bent over to pick up her yellow robe while fully exposing her round ass and nether lips to the Sultan's gaze. He made no attempt to stop her and Miriam walked out slowly dressing herself along the way. The Sultan had noticed her attempts and watched her as she left. She had an excellent bottom, round and muscular which swayed as she walked. Normally he would have been overwhelmed by such a sight and would have stood up and plowed into her with abandon. Tonight, actually the last several nights, things had been different. For a time the women of his harem had been losing their charm for him. He had noticed it for a while, but thought it was a temporary state. The Sultan dressed in his thick robe, sat down on one of the silk couches and thought. Miriam was such a sweet cocksucker and such a delightful woman that he felt sure that after her oral assault he would have been able to take her in the natural way. Instead he found that he had grown bored even with her. The Sultan knew what he needed to do, but he feared the consequences. He steeled his will by telling himself he was lord and master. He clapped twice and an enormous black man entered the room. He wore bright peach robes and had an enormous white hat. "Yes, Sultan," the man spoke. He had a surprisingly high pitched voice. He was Omar, chief of the black eunuchs and, in the world of the harem, the Sultan's closest confidant. He was devoted to the Sultan, had no greater ambition for power and, as a eunuch, viewed the many harem intrigues with a more detached frame of mind than the Sultan could achieve "I need you to fetch Ahmed," said the Sultan in his most commanding voice. Omar knew that the Sultan was afraid of something, for he seldom used that tone with Omar. Even so there were practical matters to discuss first. "Yes, sire, but Ahmed retired last year at the insistence of your third wife." "Oh yes," replied the Sultan, dropping the pretense of being in command and began reflecting on the situation more fully. "You're lucky Omar that you can't get married." "Yes sire, it seems a distressing state." Omar had to listen to the Sultan's concerns about his wives and concubines. Their continuous jealousies and rivalries seemed to forever distress the Sultan. "Oh well, there's nothing I can do about that. Have a message sent to Ahmed. Tell him that I require his services. Have him fetch me a blonde." "A blonde?" Omar seemed taken aback and for once looked disconcerted. "But Sire the Valide Sultana." "The Valide Sultana, the Valide Sultana," the Sultan parroted. " Everyone always says that, but I am master here. Let me worry about my mother." "Yes sire, a blonde," Omar replied as he regained his composure. This was only an outward show though; wives and concubines could be dealt with or disciplined as needed, but the Valide Sultana was a different matter entirely. "Have him make sure that she is a real blonde, not a dyed one. Women can be devious, and some may dye their lower hair as well. If he finds one then he may have his usual fee and he may choose a woman for himself at my expense," said the Sultan and made a wave to dismiss Omar. "Yes sire," Omar nodded and walked out. Chapter 2. Two women sat in front of a looking glass bathed in the pink light of the warm Mediterranean sun. One was short and voluptuous with curly chestnut hair. She wore a domestic maid's dress which highlighted her large bust. She stood over a lithe blonde woman with radiant blue eyes who was seated at the vanity. The blonde wore a beige linen dress, a traditional costume of ancient Egypt. The maid was busy putting up the blonde woman's hair, while the blonde woman applied thick black make up around her eyes. "Cor, Miss Jenny," said the maid. "Did them Egyptian women really wear that make up?" "Of course they did, Mary, you must have seen it on the scrolls Cecil bought. It wasn't for ordinary women, only the finest could afford make up." "Scrolls is scrolls, Miss, real life is something else. Seeing it on you, why Miss, forgive my saying so, but it looks so silly." It did look odd. The makeup was black and heavy, almost like soot. It was made from burnt olive pits. Jenny had found the recipe in a book and she had decided to try it on herself. She knew Cecil would be enraptured; her fiancé was a scholar of ancient Egypt. The near east and Jenny were his only interests. "I think so too but you know how fashions change. We don't dye our hair white or powder our faces the way they did in Beau Brummell's time. Our ways will look silly in the future too," replied Jenny. She put down the makeup jar and began putting on heavy gold and lapis lazuli jewelry. She had rings, bracelet and a torque on her vanity. "Are you sure Mr. Cecil won't object to you wearing these, Miss?" Mary asked. "He minds already, knowing Cecil. You know how he worries about every little thing. Yesterday he was worried that we'd never find salt pork in Egypt. He calmed down when we found the dried beef and he'll calm down over this when I'm through with him," Jenny replied with a smirk. "If you say so, miss, but some of them jewels looks valuable." "It's all priceless, each and every piece," replied Jenny as she placed a coarse black wig on her head. "But I have an even greater treasure, or maybe I should say I have one that Cecil wants more." She got up and twirled about, "So what do you think? How do I look?" "Oh ravishing miss, you look like one of them Egyptian princesses in the pictures," said Mary momentarily forgetting her previous objections of the silliness of the makeup. Jenny did make everything look wonderful, even something as out of date as this. The dress stopped well up her calf revealing her shapely legs and the top clung to her top revealing the slightest swell of her pert breasts. "Everything you say is so flattering" smiled Jenny. "If this doesn't work on Cecil I can always come back to you." Before Mary could react Jenny bent forward and kissed her on the lips. "You mustn't do that, Miss," said Mary as she flushed. "The Preacher says that women kissing each other is wrong and all them French ladies is going to hell." "Does he? Preachers say such silly things. Why what does he say about spying on couples making love?" Mary flushed face turned bright red at that and looked at the floor. "I wouldn't know miss, but I never do things like that." "Of course not, but if you did you wouldn't need feel ashamed, Mary. I think I'd enjoy it; I like having an audience. I know Cecil appreciates what we do; but I want you and everyone else to know how wonderful it is." "Oh miss, you shouldn't want that." "But I do. It's fantastic, more than fantastic even, though I admit I don't know what that would be. You know I've dreamed about being Messalina." "Mesa-who, miss?" "Valeria Messalina, she was empress of Rome. She was marvelous. She made love constantly with men and women, with slaves and nobles. One night at a party she made love from sun down to dawn with slaves in front of all the nobles of Rome." "Oh," Mary exclaimed in shock, "I think them Romans were the wickedest people who ever lived." "They were wicked," agreed Jenny. "I couldn't be with anyone but Cecil, but still sometimes I can't help but fantasize about that. Everyone would see me at my most beautiful, shouting out in ecstasy as one anonymous lover after another pleasured me." "Did all them Roman women do that or just empresses?" "The historians didn't write so much about normal Romans, but most of them couldn't afford slaves or were slaves themselves. It was probably just empresses who could afford to do things like that." "Well, I'm glad I ain't an empress," said Mary decisively. "It might have some perks, but for tonight I'm hoping I can be a queen for Cecil." Cecil Fitzsimmons was a tall, lanky man with large blue eyes. This evening they were perturbed for the jewelry he had recovered on the digs had been stolen. The safe had been opened normally; there were no scratches or other signs of forcing it. It had to have been done by someone who knew the combination. He had thought that no one else but Jenny knew the combination but one of the sailors or servants might have seen Cecil open it. He'd ask Jenny first if she had seen anything. It was best to keep things like this quiet. If she had not then he would have to start questioning the crew. It was a duty he did not relish and it came at the worst possible time. Throughout their stay in Egypt Jenny had worn men's clothing. It was a necessity on digs. At first that had given Cecil a kinky thrill; for she was lithe enough that when wearing men's clothing she made a passable boy. It was a bit like he was back in public school. He would pretend he was Achilles and she was Patroculus. They had sex from behind and, on occasion, he would have taken her as a man would have taken a boy. That was an experience he relished, for her ass was indescribably tight and he had no need to pull out, but as the weeks wore on he longed to see Jenny as a woman again. Today, at last, he had his wish. As they cast off out of Alexandria Jenny had worn a white dress and a white straw bonnet both with blue trim. As they left the prevailing winds nearly stole her hat and kicked up her skirts so high that Cecil could spy her calves almost up to her knees beneath her white lace stockings. This memory and the anticipation of the night to come had made walking around awkward for Cecil all day. Now with this theft, though... "You sent for me my General?" Cecil's thoughts were broken by Jenny's voice. Cecil turned around and found his fiancée pressed back against the door, her eyes demurely cast down. She wore the costume of an Egyptian princess, a linen tunic with a long slit up the side and a coarse black wig. How she had found that costume Cecil could not begin to speculate, but that concerned him little. What caught Cecil's eyes was the jewelry which adorned Jenny. The heavy gold and lapis lazuli torque, bracelets and rings were the jewels they had found in Egypt, and which he had thought were stolen. Cecil felt an immense sense of relief which he tried to hide as he adopted a stern tone and began to lecture. "I say, Jenny, I was worried sick about those jewels." "Have I displeased my general?" Jenny asked in a servile tone. She walked towards him and deftly dropped to her knees in front of him. She folded her hands and looked up at him as if pleading. "I implore him will not beat me." "Now, Jenny, be serious for a moment, those jewels are worth a fortune..." "Please, do not by angry with me, my general," she said as she deftly unbuttoned his pants, "For I am but an ignorant barbarian queen. The women of my people have a way of making up their transgressions to men, perhaps I can use this to make up mine to you," she smiled as Cecil's cock sprang forth. "My, what an enormous sword you have, my general." "Dash it all, Jenny, quit playing around, I... I..." Cecil lost his train of thought as his cock was engulfed in the warmth of Jenny's mouth. As a young man Cecil had visited Paris on occasion and had found that many of the French ladies of the evening specialized in cock sucking. It was an act that Cecil had found most enjoyable and was both delighted and astounded to find his fiancée willing, even eager to do the same. Jenny lacked the prostitute's experience, but made up for it in enthusiasm and with Cecil she had frequent practice. Cecil liked to imagine that his penis felt better in a woman who loved him rather than one who was paid for her services. Jenny couldn't quite engulf his entire shaft; Cecil was quite large. She would run her hands along the base of his shaft as she sucked on his tip, or run her tongue down the complete shaft while her delicate hands played with his balls. The feeling was heavenly and all too soon Cecil found himself approaching climax. Often Jenny, sensing his orgasm would pull back and let his semen splash upon her breasts, but today, mindful of the priceless artifacts she wore, she carefully swallowed every drop. That took some effort, for Cecil was so excited he shot an enormous load. After what felt like hours he felt his shaft grow limp in her mouth, then fall out. "Have I pleased you my general?" she asked still on her knees. "Very much so, dear." "Then let there be peace between us," she said as she stood up. "Yes, I say, rather. Shall we have dinner up on the deck?" "I've been looking forward to that all day," she said as she stood up. "I asked the cook to prepare oysters for you. They're my favorite." "Oh marvelous," said Cecil as they climbed up on deck. "The sea does wonders to improve my appetites." Chapter 3. Despite her protests Mary never missed one of her mistress's performances. Miss Jenny was like a fine actress, she could play many different roles. Sex intrigued Mary; she had never known a man, but Miss Jenny had made every session with Mr. Cecil such a performance that Mary's appreciation went far beyond mere girlish curiosity. She was now a connoisseur of the act of love. While they were in Egypt Mary had stayed just in the shadows and spied through a slightly open flap in the tent. Tonight she could see through a keyhole in her own room. In Egypt Miss Jenny had been strange; almost like she was a boy. She had Mr. Cecil take her from behind most every night the way Miss Jenny had told her all the Greek men used to do to one another. She even had Mr. Cecil stick his enormous cock into her bottom. To Mary that looked too painful to bear, but Miss Jenny seemed to enjoy it mightily. In most of the Egyptian stay she had kept her boyish composure, usually only giving a low throaty growl of pleasure as Mr. Cecil pounded into her, but with his cock in her bottom she screamed out in ecstasy and had writhed in pleasure. Tonight she was entirely feminine again. She had entered the room still dress in her Egyptian princess outfit and molded up against Mr. Cecil. The room was illuminated by moonlight, which seemed directly aimed at the bed as though that were the stage and the moon was the limelight. The lovers kissed passionately several times until, overwhelmed with desire, Mr. Cecil threw her clothes off and quickly tore his own off. Mr. Cecil picked her up and carried her to bed where he gently laid her down then immediately got on top of her and thrust in deeply. Jenny began to moan as he bore into her with strong thrusts until he was deep inside of her. Then she started to throw her head from side to side screaming out in delight. Cecil arched his back and sucked on her firm tits as he continued to pound away into her. Escape From the Harem Miss Jenny began to writhe her hips and moan, obviously enjoying Mr. Cecil's member. In time her moans turned to screams and those grew louder and more piercing until they became a sustained wail. Mr. Cecil grunted and tensed up too as Miss Jenny gave a final low, throaty moan of pleasure. He withdrew his cock and it shot loads of spunk onto Miss Jenny's belly. The site of the quivering penis drove Mary to an intense arousal. As his penis, which had looked so fierce before, grew limp and lifeless, (though Mary still thought it was beautiful) he lay down and they couple lay still entwined in one another's arms. As quietly as she could she slipped away to her bed and, when safely beneath the covers, her hand snaked down to her drenched sex. She replayed the scene in her mind pretending that she was Miss Jenny and Mr. Cecil's big tool was plowing into her. It was marvelous. She would not dare try to steal Mr. Cecil away from Miss Jenny but she sometimes wished she could borrow his cock for an evening. Thinking that her orgasm swept over her like a wave and she had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying out. Exhausted and satisfied she drifted off to sleep. Chapter 4. Miriam's chambers were much less opulent than those of the Sultan. She had a feather bed, a brass vanity and a simple kilim on the floor. The walls and floor were covered with a pale green tile. Miriam had tried to keep it cheerful with a branch laden with orange blossoms strewn across the vanity. Despite her efforts it seemed plain, but only the Sultan's wives had more elegant chambers. Miriam was a favored concubine; though not in name, that the title "Favored Concubine" was reserved for women who bore the Sultan sons and, despite her best efforts, Miriam had not become pregnant yet. Still, she clearly enjoyed the Sultan's favor. She even had her own odalisque, a Greek girl named Artemis. Artemis was busy polishing Miriam's jewelry when she walked in. Artemis was a lovely girl on the first flush of womanhood. Her hair was thick and black and naturally spilled down in coils. Her eyes were rich and brown. Her body had recently developed its womanly curves. Her breasts were ill disguised by the heavy garb of her servant's dress. Miriam could well imagine the flare of her hips and even felt a slight pang of jealously course through her. "Good evening, mistress," Artemis smiled and stood up deferentially from the stool of the vanity, allowing Miriam to sit down. As Miriam did so Artemis took a comb and began to brush Miriam's hair. "How was your evening, mistress?" asked Artemis. "Poor, I had high hopes but the Sultan left me unsatisfied," said Miriam as she pouted. Artemis was taken aback by the statement. She had a young girl's romantic notions and imagined every minute spent together by lovers to be perfect. "How is it that you can be unsatisfied? You were just with the Sultan?" "I don't mean I'm unhappy, I mean... well," Miriam reflected that there was no harm in telling her troubles to an odalisque. "The Sultan summons me because he enjoys the way I take his manhood into my mouth. "You are renown in the harem for that. The other concubines say your behavior is shameful, though I think they are just jealous. To me it sounds wonderful," said Artemis with a smile. "Oh it is," said Artemis, glad that her skill was the cause of envy among so many, "But lately he does not reciprocate." "I see and by 'Reciprocate' you mean he does not take your womanhood into his mouth?" "What? No, of course not." Miriam was shocked at the suggestion. "He's the sultan; such an act would be beneath his dignity." "Oh, I am truly sorry for my ignorance," said Artemis. She felt deeply ashamed. "It's okay, what I meant was that the Sultan does not take me in the natural way in intercourse. Sucking him makes me feel excited, but without a means of relieving that I feel frustrated." "I feel that way sometimes too, mistress. If I may confide in you, sometimes when I see the Sultan or daydream about the eunuchs I feel funny. I know eunuchs cannot function as men, but some of them are so handsome." "What do you do?" "Well," Artemis blushed, "It does make me ashamed to admit it, but I use my hand and rub myself down there." "Oh," said Miriam sorry that she had asked. "I know that it is wrong, and I do not blame you for not approving, but it does feel fantastic," continued Artemis. "I'm not so sure," said Miriam. "Would you like me to do it to you?" asked Artemis. "I would be most willing." "No, I mean, you're a girl and I couldn't do that. "That is true, I am sorry for suggesting it, mistress" said Artemis, and she went back to combing Miriam's hair. In the silence Miriam began to reflect on her own arousal and on what Artemis had said. She began to wish she had not been so hasty to dismiss her odalisque's suggestion. Sometimes pretended the Sultan was another man when he was deep in her; why couldn't she pretend her odalisque was the Sultan? It might be nice she thought and began to squirm in her chair with lust. "Artemis?" she spoke, her voice was now dry. "Yes mistress?" Artemis said. "What if I closed my eyes and pretended that you were the Sultan? Would you take me with your fingers?" "It would be my delight, mistress, what shall I do?" "The sultan usually starts with kisses." "Yes mistress," said Artemis. Her mistress closed her eyes tight. Artemis had been brought to the harem later in life. When she was a young girl she had spied upon couples from the village who had snuck off to the fields to make love. She began, as many of the swains did with a tender kiss. To her delight she found that the kiss felt wonderful and she continued with bolder, more passionate kisses. The effect was not entirely convincing to Miriam, for though she had an image of the Sultan in her mind Artemis's skin was so smooth and soft that it was impossible to think that it really was the Sultan. Still there was something nice in the girl's eager, almost puppyish enthusiasm and Miriam began to kiss her back in earnest. She felt her nipples began to harden and become even more so when she felt Artemis's small hands snake beneath her robes and cup her breasts. Miriam's breasts were rich and full. Artemis marveled at their size; though, in truth, they were not much larger than her own. Artemis still thought of herself as a girl and positively reveled in Miriam's womanly breasts. The soft, resilient flesh topped with proud hard nipples was marvelous to the touch. She heard her mistress breath grow more rapid and Artemis began to descend, leaving a trail of kisses down Miriam's throat. Miriam gasped as she felt her servant's mouth on her breasts. Artemis started with light, feathery kisses that grew to light biting, licking and sucking. She imagined this was the sultan, though the Sultan had never paid such careful attention to her. She felt the moisture in her most secret recesses. Licking and sucking on another woman's nipples was marvelous, Artemis decided. She found herself becoming excited from her own efforts and, in part, wished she were a man so she could continue their session in the natural way. She was not, but she had seen other methods of bringing a woman to pleasure. To that end she unfastened the sash of her mistress's robe and slowly massaged her mistress's public mound with her hand, reveling in the strange touch of her nude, hairless sex. She slowly entered her canal with her index and her middle finger and found her mistress soaked and warm. She then found Miriam's clitoris with her thumb and began to massage that gently at fist as she moved her fingers in and out. Miriam felt that the sensations were different than when the Sultan would take her. Miriam's fingers were small compared to his manhood, yet as she moved them in and out she felt wonderfully aroused and that final finger on her most sensitive button was indescribably. As Artemis continued to work on that Miriam felt her passion rise quickly. She no longer thought about the Sultan, but of Artemis and her rapid, puling digits. She began to moan, her senses driven the point of comprehension. She felt only Artemis; Artemis sweet tongue on her nipples, and Artemis's wonderful fingers upon her womanhood. Miriam began to moan and gasp as she felt the heat from immense fire building up within in her. Finally she began jerking her head from side to side as her body shuddered out an intense orgasm. She lay back content and spent from pleasure. Artemis dutifully got up and grabbed a sponge and a bowl of water to wash away her mistress's perspiration. "It's alright," said Miriam, lazily raising her hand to stop her. "Let me stay like this for a while. I enjoy lingering in the feeling of satisfaction." "Yes, mistress," said Artemis. "Would you like to sleep with me tonight, Artemis?" "I would be delighted to do so, mistress," replied Artemis, her mistress's feather bed was much more comfortable than her own pallet. She got up to the bed and lay beside Miriam, who promptly kissed her on the cheek and snuggled up beside her. Chapter 5. Mary woke with a start to the sound of thunder. She sat bolt upright in her bed and looked about. She realized she was on Mr. Cecil's yacht and she cursed to herself. She hated storms at sea; they always left her feeling green. If it was not for the great love she had for her mistress she never would have left dry land. The boat wasn't tossing and there was no sound of wind, yet the rumblings repeated a number of times. More awake now, Mary realized it was not thunder that she heard; it was cannon fire. She heard the cannon answered by the lighter coughs of rifles directly above her and she realized there was a battle above. She grabbed her robes and slippers and went to the main deck. There she found a scene of chaos. Mr. Cecil and the sailors were shooting at men on an approaching ship while Miss Jenny was loading rifles. The attackers must be pirates, Mary realized. The muzzle fire was blazing away, breaking the darkness with a blinding light. The other ship drew near; it was a schooner with three masts and a Jolly Rodger flag up top. It was rigged similar to Mr. Cecil's yacht, but it was much larger. Mary saw the swarthy faces of the many pirates aboard shining in the moonlight. She felt nothing but panic. She was paralyzed by fear. She wanted to help, to hide and to run away all at the same time, but her could not move. She knew Mr. Cecil was a crack shot and the rest of the crew seemed competent, but there were so many pirates. She saw them clearly as the other boat was parallel to them. They were just a few feet apart. Mary saw many men on her own ship get hit and slump over. The pirates too were falling, largely thanks to Mr. Cecil's shots. Mary felt a brief glimpse of hope but then Mr. Cecil was hit. Mary saw it and heard Miss Jenny scream. It seemed to occur slowly and in a distant haze. Mr. Cecil looked up and stumbled backwards and then fell into the ocean. The pirates began to leap across the ships. Mary felt herself grabbed and dragged by one. She saw her mistress shoot one pirate then another with the rifle, and she continued to fire until she ran out of bullets. Miss Jenny was in a rage. She swore curses and invectives that Mary had never heard a high born lady yell. The pirates got close to her, but Miss Jenny didn't try to run or jump overboard, instead she battered everyone that came near her with the rifle butt. She clobbered a few men but then Mary saw the pirates overwhelm her mistress. She saw no more as she was being dragged below deck. She was taken below deck into a tiny room; it wasn't much larger than a closet and was pitch black. Before being thrown in she had seen an elaborate lock at the door. A moment later she heard a series of clicks at the lock, the door was opened and Miss Jenny was thrown in by two burly men. The two women sat on opposite corners against the wall. The darkness was overwhelming. Mary dared not speak. She heard her mistress sobbing softly. As time wore on and she heard the pirates move about fear overwhelmed her until she couldn't keep still. "Miss Jenny," she whispered, "Miss Jenny," she replied after she received no reply. "I'm here, Mary," she said, suppressing a sob. "I'm right here." "Are you hurt, Miss?" "No, I'm fine. I'm quite alright." "Oh, thank goodness, miss, with all these terrible things happening I didn't know what had become of you." A pause followed, "Miss Jenny, I'm sorry about Mr. Cecil." "I know Mary. He was a good man. I wanted to spend my life with him. Now..." She let her voice trail off. That concerned Mary, "What's to happen to us, Miss?" "We'll have the fate of all women captives. We'll be sold to a brothel after the pirates weary of us." "A brothel?" Mary was shocked, "Why the preacher would never forgive me and as for you, why they can't sell a fine lady like you to a brothel." "They're pirates. Here on the seas there are no lords and ladies. To them all men are equal targets for plunder and all women are valued only for their sex." Mary began to tremble and grew quiet. "Saint Michael" exclaimed the red headed woman when she spied the mountain of gold on display. "Did you rob the queen of Sheba?" The woman had full, pouty lips and wide curves at her hips and her bosom. Her eyes were bright green and her skin was normally pale, but had turned red in her time under the Mediterranean sun. She wore a green skirt, white blouse and a wide assortment of mismatched jewelry. "Leave it be, Molly. That stuff's too good for a woman like you," replied the burly man. "Is that a fact, Billy?" she said crossly as she put her hands on her hips. "Why I'll have you know my family was kings in the old days." "Your whole bloody Island was kings in the old days." Molly had paid him no mind and began to put on rings of gold and lapis lazuli. "Saint Michael, what strange jewelry." "I said leave it be," the man bellowed. "And if I don't?" she replied not taking her eyes off the jewels. It was a mistake for he smacked her hard with the back of his hand knocking her to the ground. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Now you'll listen, won't you? So take the jewelry off or..." he balled his fist. Quick and frightened the woman obeyed. "I'm sorry, Billy, I..." "Yeah, you're sorry now," he said. Come up on deck, I want you to watch a demonstration." Molly fought back tears as she climbed the stairs onto the deck. Bill followed her up. They had first met in Cadiz about a year ago. Molly's father was a soldier stationed in Gibraltar and Bill made no secret that he was a pirate. Molly had worked at an inn at the time. Her father, and his company, practically lived there and she made good money serving them. Bill walked in and all the barmaids immediately looked at him. He stood tall, had rugged good looks and had a swagger. The other women walked up to him, but her and Bill's eyes met. She felt struck as though by thunder and wanted to walk up to him. Before she could go the owner sent her to the back for a bucket of beer. She went and while back there she heard the door close behind her. Turning around she saw Billy in the lamp light. She felt her knees go weak. He kissed her thrusting his tongue deep in her mouth and he fished his hand down her blouse. Before she even knew what happened her breasts stood exposed. She had dropped the bucket of beer on the floor, not caring that the owner would yell at her, or that she would have to clean the mess, or anything else but the strong masculine hands about her and the rough, insistent mouth upon her breasts. He had deftly slid her skirt to the floor and dropped his pants giving Molly a view of his red, engorged cock. It was luscious, she thought as he began to nudge it against her nether parts. It was all too much for Molly and he gently helped her down into the puddle of beer; she didn't care she only wanted his thing inside her. He readily thrust it in, there was but a moment of soreness and she soon found herself in a state of bliss which lasted for what seemed like an eternity as orgasm after orgasm swept through her until she found herself on a sea of euphoria. She felt regret that it had ended when Billy erupted in her, but still she felt bliss as they lay together in a mixture of beer, sweat and their love juices. "You're the finest wench I've ever laid," said Billy. "My ship pulls out tonight why don't you come with me?" Oh to be that girl again, Molly thought, to have that moment again. She immediately agreed to run off. For nine months or so her life had been bliss. Piracy excited Billy. He'd take her roughly as many as four times in a single night after a raid, but now things had changed. He grew weary after raids and pushed her away, even when she tried to take him in her mouth. Molly grew afraid when she saw the entire crew on deck. Bill, however, strode out like a fighting cock and greeted the men with a "Morning gents." "Morning yourself, captain," replied Jack, the quartermaster. "Captain, I ain't never complained before, but last night we took us in some real morning glories. I ain't seen the likes of the blonde one never and the other one is plenty stacked. Now the boys and me did as you said and didn't molest them or nothing, but we've all been walking funny since seeing them. So when do we get our turns with them?" "Use your head, man," replied Bill, "How much do you think a madam would pay for them after they've been pumped full of seadog spunk. They'd be worth less than Molly." He gestured towards her and the whole crew laughed. Molly grew redder. "No you'll get your chance with the ladies soon enough and if she brings in what I think. You'll be able to afford the high class whores; but first we'd better check out the goods. Bring them up." Two men disappeared and the captive women were brought on deck. Both were still in their night clothes. The shorter one had a long white robe and a night cap. She looked terribly frightened. The other one wore a thick Turkish robe. Even so she was like a queen. "You," Billy pointed to the blonde. "I have a task for you." He unlaced his pants and pulled out his cock, displaying it to everyone. "I want you to bring me off in your mouth." The woman's only acknowledgement of the obscene command was to raise her nose higher and sniff. One of the men grabbed the cat-o-nine tails and walked towards her. Jenny looked at him coolly. "Not her, man, whip the other one," said Billy. Two men grabbed the other woman and turned her around. "Miss Jenny," the woman pleaded, "Don't let them do nothing awful to me." "No," the blonde woman's eyes changed and now shone in terror. "I'll do as you ask." The whip struck and cut through Mary's thin robe into her back. She yelped in pain and tears welled in her eyes. "Now," said the captain, "Suck me off." Jenny looked at Mary, and saw the terror in her eyes. She saw the whip was still raised up, and the man who held it was looking at their captain waiting for permission to strike another blow. Jenny knew what he wanted, what she had to do. She unfastened her robe and it slid off her shoulders forming a pool on the floor. Every pirate in the crew's eyes were fixed on her lithe frame, pert breasts, tight ass and the sparse blonde hair that did little to conceal her nether lips. She made a few graceful steps forward before falling on her knees and crawling like a cat to her prize. "This is the most fabulous thing I have ever seen," she said breathlessly. It wasn't, of course, Cecil's organ was larger and much cleaner. It looked like it had been carved of ivory. Jenny had slyly peaked at many of her servant's cocks, but she had never seen one of them as lovely as Cecil's, certainly not this pirate's, but Jenny's mind wasn't in the present. She wasn't performing for a group of pirates, but was thinking of a night a long time ago in England. Escape From the Harem Cecil was home on break to study for exams. His family had thrown a ball in his honor as they did at the end of every period of study. They had a large house near Hyde Park which they lit up beautifully for their balls. Jenny was constantly in Cecil's presence, as was expected for they had recently become engaged. Despite being so close to her man Jenny wasn't completely happy for throughout the night friends of the family had welcomed Cecil never leaving them alone for a moment, except during dances. Jenny liked to dance, and Cecil was almost always her partner, but there was something she liked more than dancing. He had been away for so long that all she wanted to do was to sneak off with him. She had a special reason that night; earlier in the day she had stumbled across a scene which she kept replaying in her mind. She had been given orders from her mother to tell the cook to change the lunch menu. She had walked down into the kitchen and saw a most amazing site. One of the maids was on her knees in front of the cook; her head bobbing up and down and his penis was in her mouth. Jenny was initially shocked and hastily retreated but in time she became aroused. After a waltz with Cecil she was finally able to get him to come to the garden. It was a warm April night and many of the spring flowers were in bloom. Cecil's family had the garden done in the English fashion with nature spilling out onto the many twisted paths. "I say, isn't it wonderful?" Cecil asked. "Oh the party is nice enough. Your family's parties are always wonderful, but it's much more wonderful to have you back," Jenny replied. She was carefully navigating so they were far from the house in the darkest part of the garden. "Well, that is dashed nice of you Jenny, but it is only for a month and I have to study." "Oh, I know you have to study. It seems you always have to study, but you'll find time for me, won't you?" "Yes, of course, but..." "I knew you would, and I'm glad for it. I'm so much happier when you're around. Everything seems so much nicer; isn't the moon especially radiant?" Jenny asked. "Oh, I should say, rather," said Cecil as he looked up. Jenny quickly stepped forward while he was distracted and fell to her knees. "I say, darling, what are you doing down there?" he sounded shocked. "I just saw this today," said Jenny as she deftly unbuttoned Cecil's pants with her doll like hands, "And I've been dying to try it." "But, I say dear, what if someone should catch us?" Cecil sounded worried and he looked about. "I don't think anyone would come out this far, and if they did then that would make it all the more exciting," she replied. Cecil's organ was free from its confines. It was every bit as beautiful as she had imagined, like a statue in a museum. She kissed its head and slowly engulfed the shaft into her mouth. "I say, Jenny we should..." Cecil's voice trailed off as Jenny's tongue flickered over his glans breaking Cecil's train of thought and his usual reserve. Jenny started slowly at first she would let the penis fall from her mouth to kiss it again or murmur to it as she slowly massaged Cecil's balls or shaft with her hands. These would elicit a soft moan from Cecil. His cock seemed to grow even larger and harder. Jenny was enraptured. She began to mover her head faster, bobbing up and down as she had seen the maid do that afternoon. It was wonderful, the heavy taste of Cecil's manhood filling her mouth. He whispered her name as his body tensed up and the essence of his manhood shot down her throat filling her mouth. She swallowed every drop and kept his manhood there relishing the feeling of it growing soft. "Welcome back dear," she said when she was able to speak. But now it wasn't Cecil's spunk flowing into her mouth, but a pirates. She had been so lost in her daydream that she had swallowed every drop of his seed. The pirate captain was positively beaming. "Men," he addressed the crew. "I have been in every whore house from Odessa to Tangier and this lass is the best cocksucker I've ever had. We'd be fools to sell her in Alexandria; we're taking her straight to Constantinople." A cheer went up from the crew. Mary wanted to run and hide, but Jenny seemed unaffected. She walked over and coolly picked up her robe. They were again taken below deck. "Billy," said Molly, unable to control her anger any longer. "You are the devil himself. I've never felt so humiliated in all my years. Why would you make her do that and in front of all the crew and..." she was positively sputtering with rage. "You should have paid close attention; you could have learned a trick or two from her. I'm sure it would have come in handy where you're heading." "I... why..." she pulled a knife from a nearby man's sash and ran towards the captain. He easily stopped her and grabbed her arm. The knife fell to the deck. "Give her a days worth of food and water and set her adrift in a longboat," he said tersely. "The sea is the place for bitch pups like her." Chapter 6. Amal had the prettiest lingerie. Today she had on a white bustier decorated with a rose pattern, a white garter belt and stockings. Her nether region was bare and exposed as she sat upon her husband, Ahmed's face. Her partial undress had driven him mad with lust. The combination of the hidden and exposed always did, as Amal knew well. His tongue drove into her most sensitive spot, bringing her to peak after peak of pleasure. It was too much for her to bear as she wiggled and squirmed. Even that brought her no respite, for she relished the feeling against her skin as it slid and constricted her motions. It was all so wonderful, but she heard the servant's call and it brought her back to the real world. "What is it?" she called, stopping her husband, but she remained where she was for she had no desire to move. Her chamber maid burst in and blushed furiously at the scene. "Madam, the Sultan's carriage." She slid off as her husband and he stood up with an astonished expression. "You say the Sultan is here?" he asked. Ahmed was a virile male with broad shoulders and a broad chest. His hair was starting to grey a little. "No, not him, the chief to the black eunuchs," replied the servant. "By Allah, that is much worse," said Ahmed as he put his hand to his head Amal got out of bed and clapped twice. Servants gathered around her and she told them to prepare in the garden. She seemed to have no concerns about giving commands in the nude; given her husband's constant attention she was frequently forced to do so. Two servants stayed behind to dress her. In ten minutes she was dressed and down in the garden. Her husband and the chief of the black Eunuchs were already there. They sat at a table in the center patio which was surrounded by lemon trees. A servant was bringing out the coffee pot when Amal arrived. "Perhaps you do not remember, Omar, but this is my most beautiful wife, Amal," said Ahmed with a smile. "She was raised in the harem." "I remember you selecting her," replied Omar. Amal had thought nothing of his voice when living in the harem; for Eunuchs were the only men she knew, but now she found it disturbingly high pitched. It did not match his hulking frame at all. "She is a prize; an extraordinarily generous gift from the Sultan." "Ah yes, the Sultan, he has need of you again," said Omar. "I am sorry to hear that, though I suspected this day would come. The first wife is the choice of the father, the second of the mother and the third is by the man. All men think they are supremely wise and have made an incomparable choice for themselves, but I fear that sort of wisdom belongs to Allah alone. Though Allah certainly guided my choice," he added quickly remembering that his wife was present. She paid no mind and dutifully poured the coffee. "Many men soon grow bored and want a different woman; even a man with a harem as large as the Sultan's. What does the sultan wish?" "He wants a blonde," replied Omar. "A blonde?" Ahmed was taken aback, "But the Valide Sultana..." "I said the same," said Omar, "But he insisted he could handle his Mother." "Oh dear," said Ahmed. "No woman can be handled easily, they require patience and delicacy; a Sultana more so than most and a Valide Sultana much more so than that. I fear the Sultan is inviting a plague upon his house." "As do I, but we must follow the word of the Sultan. He has made you a generous offer. You may pick a concubine for yourself. The Sultan will grant you her price and a stipend to maintain her." "Ah, my desert flower, you are getting a little sister," said Ahmed a bit tentatively as if uncertain how Amal would take the news. "Get one with big boobs," said Amal as she looked up from serving the men. "Miss," Omar was taken aback. "Please, I grew up in a harem. I'm perfectly familiar with women's bodies and what men admire in them. "I'm afraid I've discussed my past career a bit too freely with my wife," said Ahmed as a smile played on his lips. "Thank the Sultan for his most generous offer. Tell him that I shall start right away." "Not right away," said Amal. "There's a more urgent task you must complete first," she said and she arched her eyebrow. "Ah," said Ahmed, "You see the Sultan rules the entire empire, but my wife rules this house." "That is true of many a household," said Omar as he rose. He recognized the look and the tone of Amal's voice as a woman with desires. No concubine would have dared to have been so forward with the Sultan, they would have had to communicate their desires with more subtle words, but largely the same method. Chapter 7. The Sultan was ruler of a large empire which ranged from the Balkans, through Anatolia, to the Arabian Peninsula and across North Africa. While his rule was largely nominal in many places, local governors showed their fidelity by sending him the most beautiful women of their provinces. Egypt was by now an independent state in all but name, yet the Khedive still sent the Sultan treasures for his harem. One such woman was Niyaz, who came from Nubia, Egypt's southern provinces. Her dark skin and tall, athletic frame had first caught the Sultan's eye. He had ordered her brought to his room, but, when she was there she resisted his advances. The Sultan was appalled at such behavior from a slave and ordered his Eunuchs to hold her down and paddle her soundly in his sight. Omar had done as the Sultan desired, and left her bound and naked in the Sultan's chambers. As the eunuchs departed the Sultan prepared to deliver a lecture about her need to submit; but before he could begin she whispered, "Please, ravish me now. I'll do whatever you want." The Sultan was overcome by the change in the proud woman, but didn't need to be told twice. He immediately dropped his pants and rammed his cock deep into her. He found that her cunt was so soaked with lust that he easily slid in. That was three years ago; now she continued to be the proud, high born mistress in public. Even before the Sultan she behaved that was, until he took her into her chambers and paddled her. She immediately became a simpering flower, eager to do anything to please the Sultan. The Sultan found that he loved this game himself and Niyaz was frequently his bed partner. She already had two children, though they were both daughters. Today they were repeating their game. Niyaz knelt on the low divan, with her chest set on the cushion and with her bare buttocks stuck out. Her ass was firm and the color of light chocolate. She was nude, that made her feel more vulnerable and helpless. The Sultan stood behind her with a thin cane. He wore his heavy green and white robes and his usual fez. "Have you been a bad girl?" he asked. "I have," she whimpered. "I've been thinking the most lustful thoughts. Please, please whip my ass. I deserve it. I need it so badly." Hearing this amazon submissively beg for punishment usually drove the Sultan wild with lust. Today he felt nothing in his loins, but began his punishment anyway. He let a few blows cut the air; that made Niyaz squirm with anticipation. Then he struck in earnest. Repeated blows fell upon her shapely ass. For Niyaz the immediate shock of pain quickly gave way to a subtle, glowing warmth. The pain, the relief and the frightened anticipation of the next blow overwhelmed her. Niyaz was soon squirming and soaked throughout. "Please take me, my lord," she cried, as she always did at this point. The sultan sighed; for the whipping had not excited him. "I'm sorry," he said and he walked out of the chamber. Everything seemed wonderful to Artemis. Her nights with her mistress were wonderful. Her duties as an odalisque made her happy for she was pleasing Miriam. Miriam seemed delighted as well; she had even given some of her second best jewelry and lingerie to Artemis. They were wonderful, not only were they gifts from her mistress, but they were ultimately gifts from the Sultan. Artemis was delighted to please her mistress, but she still found herself dreaming of the Sultan. Still she was careful not to wear the jewelry in public. That would only invite ire from the other odalisques and ugly rumors from her mistress's many rivals. She did wear the lingerie; that was secret to prying eyes, and it made her feel powerful as it reminded her of her mistress's high esteem at all times. It also reminded her of the love they shared, for the pantalets which covered her womanhood now had been over Miriam's at one time. It was like they were forever touching in the most intimate of spots. Lost in this revelry, she idly plucked an orange from a tree in the garden. Oranges were her favorite treat for it showed that winter was over and spring had come. Today it was even more special for she loved the way the delicate scent of the orange mixed with the heavy smell of her mistress on her hands. It was an intoxicating combination, she was thinking, when she heard a soft sobbing. Artemis moved closer and found one of the sultan's black concubines, Niyaz, lying on a bench. She was dressed all in violet, but her cloths and veil were askew. Her face was buried in her arms, it was clear that she was weeping. "What is wrong, Miss?" asked Artemis. Niyaz looked up, startled to see the young odalisque. She quickly brushed the tears away and said, "You wouldn't understand." "I am sorry for having disturbed you, Miss" said Artemis and she bowed deeply and turned. Such a charming odalisque, Niyaz thought. She realized she had no one else to tell her troubles and said "Wait." "Yes, Miss," said Artemis and she turned back. "You're Miriam's girl aren't you?" "I am, Miss." "What's your name?" "It is Artemis, Miss." "You're a very lovely girl, Artemis. I'd like to talk to you, but our conversation must be confidential. Can I trust you not to tell my secrets?" "Yes, Miss, I promise not to tell anyone," said Artemis. "I'm sad because," Niyaz paused for a moment unsure of how to continue, "Well, before the Sultan and I make love I like him to paddle me soundly." "He beats you, Miss?" "Not hard, you understand, rather it's just a sound spanking. That turns me on. It makes the Sultan wonderfully hard as well, usually, but today after he paddled me he just left." "That is terrible. There must be something wrong with the empire. My mistress is the best cocksucker in the whole harem, yet even after bringing him to fulfillment in his mouth she told me that he could not take her." Hearing the phrase, "Cocksucker," from such an innocent girl's mouth was strange, Niyaz thought; but, she realized that a young girl would have nothing else to think about. An odalisque could not find much joy in serving her mistress; her only hope was to have carnal relations with the Sultan. "I'm glad it's not just me, but I still feel frustrated now; all that excitement before only to end up in disappointment." The many games Artemis had played with her mistress and Miriam's stories had given Artemis a dozen lustful ideas which she was eager to try. "I do not mean to be presumptuous but perhaps I can do something to help you, Miss." "What could you do?" "If it pleases you, Miss, just close your eyes and pretend I am the Sultan." Niyaz looked doubtful given Artemis's short stature and ripe breasts. "Please, Miss, just try it," Artemis said. Frustration got the better of Niyaz so she shut her eyes. She felt Artemis begin her assault with kisses. The young girl was insistent and forceful, like the Sultan. Niyaz began to feel her passion build again. As the kisses continued Niyaz felt Artemis's hand under her shirt and onto her breasts. The young girl gently caressed her nipples until a soft moan escaped from Niyaz. She felt the shirt lifted from her head and the warm sunlight upon her breasts. Artemis's mouth left her lips and now assaulted her firm tits. Niyaz was no longer so apprehensive of Artemis's attempts; though she knew that it wasn't the Sultan's mouth sucking on her breasts it still felt wonderful. Her breathing became more ragged and she reached up for Artemis's shirt and began working it up. Certain of her triumph, Artemis hurriedly removed her own clothes and then gently worked down Niyaz's harem pants reveling in her smooth slippery womanhood. She then lowered her muff onto Niyaz's and began to thrust her hips so their mounds were rubbing against each other. The sensation was like nothing Niyaz had ever felt. As their two cunts touched, mashed and ran against one another she felt sparks course through her. She no longer kept her eyes closed but instead looked into the dark, mysterious eyes of Artemis and reveled in her beauty. She had always seemed like a little girl before and Niyaz had never thought of her as anything but Miriam's servant. Now she was a mature, confident woman. Niyaz watched as Artemis's breasts jiggled with her exertions. Niyaz raised her legs and put them about Artemis's muscular ass; the Sultan always liked that. Artemis smiled as her hand stole down towards Niyaz's cunt. It was awkward, but she was rewarded when Niyaz through back her head and began to moan in earnest. Her head snapped from side to side like a snake. Finally a longer and louder moan announced she had reached her peak. She fell back and smiled lazily. Panic quickly overtook Artemis, for they were out of doors where any passersby might have seen them. She got up and dressed, gently encouraging Niyaz to do the same. "But you didn't arrive," objected Niyaz. "It is okay, Miss, I do not want to get caught." "I have a private chamber, come visit me tonight." Artemis smiled, and then thought of Miriam. It was going to be a busy night. Chapter 8. The ships faded into the distance. The cool sea water surrounded Cecil as he bobbed to the surface. He looked to the stars to get his bearings and then he swam. He had looked over the charts earlier in the night and had seen that there were islands to the north. He didn't know what progress the boat had made in the intervening hours or how far away the islands were. He just swam, with no thought of the futility of the act. The salt water stung his wound. Sharks could smell blood, Cecil knew this, but felt no fear. There was surf upon the sand ahead; at least he thought he heard that. It could have been his imagination. Fatigue began to overcome it, and he felt deathly cold as he struggled on. There was something in the distance, he realized. There were clear shapes in the moonlight ahead. Even if they were just rocks he could hold on to them until dawn. He swam with renewed vigor, but how far away it was. How miserable this cold sea in this foreign land. Cecil's thoughts drifted away. He fought to stay focused so that he could see Jenny again. Jenny, his thoughts drifted away from the present and to her. He could almost see England. How beautiful it was with its gardens, flowers and trees; so much different than the desert or open sea. He felt he was there again on the night when their family had gone to see Don Giovanni.