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Historical Erotica Ch. 01

By: Scheherazade88



Note to Reader: The Following story unfolds in Tehran- Iran in 1953 during an attempted American-CIA and British MI6 coup against the democratically elected government of Mohammad Mosaddegh. Codenamed Operation Ajax the plan was to remove Mosaddegh and increase the power of the Iranian Shah (King), Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. The story follows John Hopkins, who is an American reporter stationed in Iran during the coup. Hopkins finds himself caught up between the coup plotters and Shireen, an Iranian women and Marxist who is against the Shah and the coup. Enjoy!! 

15 August

Flashback: 

Shireen: "Azizam (honey or dear), Vallahi (I swear) you're so hard to day, I don't know if my tiny anus can fit your enormous manhood. I'm worried it might hurt."

Tall American man smiles, "Jonam (Honey), I don't want to hurt you, I love you and all I want to do is express my love for you. And anal sex is the best way to express your love for someone, it's so intimate and caring. It takes real trusts."

Shireen: "Easy for you to say, you won't be limping for days afterwards!" 

"Hey, don't say that, I can't bear the thought of you in pain. Listen, I will go very slowly and start of teasing your outer cheeks and if you don't feel you are able to continue, I'll stop, okay?"

Shireen: "Okay, I love you John."

John places his hard and throbbing cock onto Shireen's outer butt cheeks and rests his nuts on them too. He then pulls his nuts off and rubs his penis up and down and from side to side of Shireen's butt, "Ohhhh yesss...rubbing my cock against your ass, ah yes that's very nice. Feels so good and you're so smooth."

End of flashback

John rushes around the streets of Tehran, the scenes are unbelievable, even incredible, but confusion is abounded and rumour is rife. No one's quite sure what is happening or what has happened. Tension and hostility are thick in the air with conspiracy on everyone's lips, The Bazaaris (Market Traders) are in outrage and the country has turned up-side-down. These are strange times in Persia, treacherous times in Persia, everyone looks at one another and wonders if they are looking at friend or foe. 

John can smell blood and hopes it will not be his. Large crowds gather and shouting commences, "Death to Britain...down with the British Empire...death to the Shah...long live Mosaddegh. The Iranian people want Mosaddegh." They shout in continuous fashion, the police try to dispel the crowds, but with confusion of who is in charge and the large crowds, possibly in the hundreds of thousands, their attempts look confused and beaten. 

John is handed a news letter as he passes the demonstrators, it reads, "Oh glorious people of Iran, the thieving British have attempted to rob us of our rights. The British stooge and our so-called 'king of kings' conspired with the Imperialists, last night they attempted to illegally remove, arrest and imprison Prime Minister Seyyed Mohammed Mosaddegh, but by the grace of god, their scheme failed. Mosaddegh is safe and the cowardly Shah has fled. The time has come to sweep away this dictator and declare ourselves a republic."

John is shocked by what he is reading and feels the need to get to Mr Roosevelt, quickly. But while, he's looking for an escape route, he notices Shireen in the crowd. She turns and catches his eye with a look of anger on her face. 

Flashback

Shireen: "Promise you will love me forever and I will not only let you pleasure yourself in my anus."

"I promise, I will never betray you."

John slides his cock off Shireen's cheeks and gently pushes pass her cheeks and gradually ends up deep inside her ass. Shireen lets' out a whimper, but manages to control herself and remain composed. 

"Ahhh, let the show begin." 

John pushes forward, Shireen's mouth is wide open and her eyes are as large as a full-moon. John pulls back, while a sweat permeates his brow, it dangles from it and eventually drops landing on Shireen's butt. It's like a sign for how hot and sweaty, the session is about to come. 

"By the way, before we begin, I thought I'd let you know one thing. I'm hard as hell, and I know, that I agreed to only anal sex. I understand that to lose your virginity before marriage is emotionally and culturally traumatic for you and by not allowing your pussy to be penetrated, you are still, technically a virgin. I will try and honor your wishes, but if I get overexcited and I accidently end up there, in the wrong hole, I'm not pulling it out."

Shireen looks startled, "What?" 

"Just saying, I mean you know what effect you have on men. You're a cock tease and I am so tempted by you. And your pussy looks so soft, warm and welcoming, my penis just wants a nice home or shelter to rest in."

Shireen: "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Listen, I love you and you love me. But dark forces are at work and we may not get another chance. Something's coming, something bad and I don't know what will happen."

John begins to move in and out in a humping motion, before Shireen can react, she has no idea what he is talking about. But decides not to let it ruin a good evening. John's energy level increases and is really coming into his element, shireen's butt is getting quite the work out. 

Shireen: "Ohh Azizam, right there, hit the spot. Yes...go on...you know how too." 

Pounding hard, John's balls violently clip and smack into Shireen's butt cheeks, which are turning red due to the intensity of the anal assault. Ferocious, talk about operation desert storm, this anal attack is the real battle for the Persian Gulf. Precum whiffs upwards, John's nose feeds to information to his brain, which commands greater fire power. Shireen's nose informs her brain of just how much mess John has made in her anus, based on preliminary smell results. 

A look of regret comes over Shireen's face, because she has not yet blown or sucked John off, which means she will tastes herself in addition to his waste, when she does. But she knows, she must solider on and not dwell on the matter. She opens her mouth wide and starts screaming, she can feel her asshole expanding, surely John's lasting impression on Shireen will be a larger asshole. 

John is so into Shireen's ass, he could hump away at it for hours. But he decides that it is now or never, while Shireen is in an Eros state, it's time to initiate his own coup. He slides his cock out of Shireen's ass, rubs it against her outer cheeks and then slides down to her pussy. She has trimmed pubic hair, with small pink lips that dangle. All John can hear is a voice telling him to come inside. 

He places his throbbing manhood on her outer lips and using his fingers pushes his cock inside her. It proves to be a difficult task, Shireen is so tight, and John is keen to reduce the bloody impact. But despite Shireen's nervous disposition and her pleases, John marches on. It will go in, he just needs to use force. John's cock keeps slipping out and seems unable to penetrate Shireen's inner sanctum, but John will not give in, he is stubborn like that. 

He stick it back in and shoves, pushes and pressures as much as he can, Shireen's bodily warmth tells John he is getting further inside her. "aaaahhhhhhh..." He screams, suddenly he falls forward and feels his penis is now all the way in. He did it, he broke into Shireen's inner sanctum. He pounds away, he needs to really open her up, aggressively and violently if necessary. The room temperature rises and animalistic instinct takes over. 

Two hot sweaty bodies, sway back and forth, groans of pleasure, joy and ecstasy overcome the happy couple. In and out, in and out, as the old mating ritual goes, seeds are being planted. Shireen is surprised at the amount of internal juice she is producing. She closes her eyes and imagines how succulent John's manhood must now be, it's being marinated with her pussy juice and just the thought of that, makes Shireen's mouth salivate. Her watery tongue, normally reserved for certain meat dishes, causes her embracement, because as she opens her mouth to groan- saliva and drool flies out. Shireen decides to rescue the situation by drooling on her breasts, which she rubs in. 

Shireen: "Ohhh..fuck my pussy, yes fill my Persian pussy with your American juice, I want that southern seed."

Nothing could stop John from finishing the job, but while he is humping her, the radio, which is on in the background, produces a message. "This is the BBC Persian World Service, the time is exactly half-past mid-night." John suddenly stopped much to Shireen's amazement, had he cum already? It is a brief 10-second pause, before John resumes. John is sweating excessively, for unbeknown to Shireen, the way the time was announced on the radio is a signal to the conspirators to launch the coup. 

End of Flashback



Shireen may well be angry, but John does not have time to stop and chat and after staring her in the eye. John makes his way from the crowd and heads for the American embassy. Something has gone terribly wrong and John does not know if he has been compromised. Fighting his way through the crowds, into the back streets and turning up at the embassy, John has managed to avoid trouble. Bursting through the embassy, he asks every official he sees's, "Have you seen Kermit (Roosevelt)?" To which everyone shakes their head, running through the corridors he runs into Steve, who is also part of the coup and a member of the CIA. They go into Steve's office. 

Steve: "My dear fellow, you look like you could use a drink? Will bourbon do you?"

"Sure, I guess." John responds. Watching Steve place ice cubes into his bourbon, makes John cross his legs in response to a sudden twitch in his crotch area. 

Flashback

John stands upwards 

Shireen: "I'm gonna give you something you are never going to forget Azizam." 

Shireen places an ice cube in her mouth and drops to her knees, John's throbbing manhood is out and ready. Looking upwards remaining composed, but expecting a sensational event. Suddenly, a icy feeling overtakes him, his cock head's temperature drops and he can feel the cube being rubbed in. Shireen's wet tongue, the ice cube and her drool rub up against his sensitive manhood, John feels like he going to faint, some much pleasure, which feels like it will override his brain and force it to crash. 

Sucking, rubbing, licking, spiting, touching and playing, Shireen is a very through cock-sucker, nothing is left unpleasured. The eyes roll back in John's head, but he manages to get his eyes back into place to stare down at Shireen, whose big eyes are looking up at him. Raising his head upwards and closing his eyes, a trickling feeling oozes out of his cock head. Shireen very loudly slurps away, which causes John to discharge in every increasing amounts. Finally, it all comes out and covers Shireen's face and mouth and she takes the large loads down in huge gulps. 

End of Flashback

Steve places the drink in-front of John and sits down behind his desk; he pulls up a book and begins flicking through it. He stops at a page and then hands the book to John. 

Steve: "Do you know what this is?"

John takes a look at sees a painting, "It's a painting."

Steve: "Not just any painting, a Rembrandt master piece. Did you know that I am a huge admirer of Rembrandt the 17th century Dutch painter?"

John shakes his head and takes a look at the painting. The image of a Sultan or Middle Eastern king at some kind of feast looking alarmed at the appearance of a bodiless and faceless arm behind him. The arm appears to have produced some kind of Hebrew text on the wall. John is confused, why is he being shown this?

Steve: "I didn't use to like this painting, but in the last few weeks, I find myself drawn to it. The painting is called Belshazzar's feast. A feat which coined the biblical phrase the writings on the wall, do you know the story?"

Again John shakes his head.

Steve: "Belshazzar was a Babylonian King, in-fact according to the Book of Daniel of the Old Testament, Belshazzer was the last Babylonian King. Babylon is what we call Iraq today. Belshazzar ordered the Temple of Solomon in Jerusalem to be ransacked and its sacred object to be stolen and brought to him following his victory over the Israelites. He used these sacred object during a drunken feast and defiled some of them. He was enjoying himself when a dismembered arm appears behind him and a message in Hebrew appears. Naturally, Belshazzar is terrified but can't read it and sends for someone to translate it."

Steve takes a sip of his drink

Steve: "Finally, someone is found to read it. The message reads Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin, which translates as numbered, weighed, divided but it's a play on words. The message was telling him the number of days his kingdom had left and predicted his imminent death. That night Belshazzar was murdered and the Persian or the Medes sacked Babylon and it was the end of the Babylonian empire. Since starting this operation, I've been wondering whether this painting is warning me about the perils of allying ourselves with the Shah." 

He pauses for a moment and seems to be in another world, before snapping out of it. 

Steve: "It's true by the way, General Fazlollah Zahedi botched the job. He sent Colonel Nematollah Nassiri to Prime Minister Mosaddegh's house to hand him the Shah's dismissal letter only to find Mossaddegh already knew and had him arrested. But the Shah who is so cowardly fled a few days ago and is currently hiding out in Italy. He won't come back. There is now a real scramble, Zahedi is hard to reach and we have no idea what is happening. It's a fucking disaster." 

John has a grave look of concern on his face, "What about the British?"

Steve: "They are as confused as we are. Honestly, I wish we had never got involved, it was their idea to begin with. Winston Churchill approached Eisenhower and proposed the idea for the coup against old Mossy, as MI6 call him. All the British care about is protecting what remains of their withering empire and of course the Iranian oil fields. The British control Iranian oil fields and take 90% of its profits, old Mossy comes along and he believes that Iranian oil should belong to the Iranian people, so he nationalises it. The nationalisation threatens British interests and so they engineer a plan for the coup." 

John remains silent, listens and nods at what Steve is saying, meanwhile he tries to work out what he's going to do next. 

Steve: "They get us involved by sending us fear-mongering stories about Mosaddegh being a communist agent and fabricating links between him and the Soviet Union. Of course we have the fucking Truman Doctrine, which calls for the containment of the spread of communism, so of course we had to get involved. They (the British) also whispered into the Shah's ears and planted in his mind, that Mosaddegh was a regicidal maniac, who would stop at nothing until the Shah was removed. They played us, they played us well. It's true that Mosaddegh now has links to the Tudeh party, which is Soviet affiliated, but this is a very recent development and a result of the conspiring situation against him."

Steve pauses and looks soulful and then turns back to John.

Steve: "I'm sorry to have involved you in this, but I can't help you now. You need to get out of this country, they are looking for blood and a American journalist, who has been fabricating anti-Mosaddegh stories for months is the perfect candidate. Good luck."

The two men warmly embrace and then depart ways. John has only been in the country for 12 months, but he has already warmly embraced the place. His Persian (Farsi) is coming along nicely and has developed a real affinity to the culture and a love for its traditions. And now he is being told to leave, which depress him greatly, but more important than that. What does he do about Shireen, she is the love of his life, however she is also a member of the Tudeh movement or the Communist party with links to the Soviet Union. He starts thinking about the time when he first met Shireen. 

Flashback 

John enters the room, he is there to cover the International workers conference, a conference which has brought Socialists, Marxists, Leninist, Trotskyites, Communists, Trade Unionists and Third World Liberation movements to Iran. The conference is being hosted by Tudeh Movement and both British and American governments are looking for hints of a wider communist conspiracy. John is covering the event for one American publication and one British one. He is setting up and notices an intensely beautiful woman on the stage. He can't help but stare at her, suddenly she gets up and starts speaking. 

Shireen: "Hello my name is Shireen, welcome to our conference, we aim to unite the workers of the world against Imperialism, capitalism and workers exploitation. We are part of a global movement of consciousness and we feel the need to unify our efforts with our comrades from other countries. We have a simple message, we are here, we are one, workers and revolutionaries of the world unite. Capitalism equals slavery and slavery equals imperialism and Imperialism equals empire."

John is riveted and looks attentively at the young delectable Shireen. 

Shireen: "Lenin once said the West were wishful thinkers, so let us give them something wishful to think. I disagree, the West uses wishfulness to disguise nihilistic and pessimistic attitudes about Human nature. Capitalism is opposed to the betterment of the many and aims only for the betterment of the few. I cannot hide my bourgeoisie origins, my great-grandfather was a petty bourgeoisie merchant trader but he didn't let it fool him. He was a trader because his father was one and he was trapped in a social spiral. But he was also a trained lawyer and led the calls for a constitutional monarchy in Iran. The Shah had unlimited power and even tried to eliminate him, but he failed. In 1905 we finally got a constitution and he was part of the constitutional movement."

Shireen pauses, as if she is building up to something. 

Shireen: "But two-years after the constitutional movement, he was murdered in a traditional bath house by one of the Shah's henchmen. The British had a hand in his murder. The claimed not only was he leading an anti-British group in Iran, but that he was in contact with anti-British groups in the Raj or British occupied India. We in Iran have never been directly colonised by Britain, baring both the First World War and Second World War, where they invaded us to prevent independence movements or Pro-German movements ,as they called them, from taking control. But we have suffered from their colonial influence. Since the 19th century, the British began financing the Iranian government or should I say, creating debt for the Iranian government. Iran borders India and they wanted to maintain influence of Iran to protect the jewel in the crown or India."

John feels uneasy but takes notes nonetheless

Shireen: "The British then began financing various institutions in Iran, which gave them control. They began enacting a series of laws, which made British visitors to Iran exempt from local laws, regardless of what they did and how they behaved. When oil was discovered the British monopolised it, and to this day, they still control it. In the 1920's Iran nearly became a republic, but again the British prevented it, they helped overthrow the old monarchy and convinced the Iranian military man who led the coup to declare himself the new monarch. His name was Reza Shah and he's the father of our current Shah. But it's not only us, we are a microcosm, the British ruled over a quarter of the global and half the world's population."

Another brief pause,

Shireen: "The British say, the sun never sets on the British Empire and they are technically right, when you consider the global spread of empire. Although when I said this phrase to my grandfather he said the sun never sets on the British Empire, because God does not trust the British in the dark. But on a serious note, we need to unite our efforts, because the problems are global. Thank you."


Historical Erotica Ch. 01



The elegance, fire and passion struck a chord with John. Never had he encountered a fiery woman like this before. He had to meet her, but he wasn't sure why, after all he is part of the problem from Shireen's perspective. John only got this Iran gig, because of an old contact from Princeton had recommended it to him. His old contact suggested he might be useful to his country and he could travel too. 

Later John manages to introduce himself to Shireen. Shireen eyes him from head to toe and its clear she is checking him out. 

"Interesting talk, a little bit harsh, but interesting."

Shireen: "Hmm..American. What's the matter? Do the Americans want to replace the British or do they envy them? I rather hope not. Iranian generally quite like America and Americans, your stance on liberty and your anti-colonial track record. But I wonder about that. Notwithstanding the terrible and brutal colonisation, subjugation and destruction of Native Americans, I fear the United States shares the same imperialist DNA as the British. Please tell me I am wrong? Do you have any thoughts?"

"Ohhh..well you certainly know how to charm guests. I can understand why you are so popular, but you've got me all wrong. I support the right of all people to self-determination, as does, many of my fellow countrymen. After all, we were ruled brutally by the British."

Shireen: "Time will tell."

"How can I change your mind? I know, why don't you let me buy you a drink?"

Shireen: "I will consider you offer."

End of flashback

John knows he must get out of Iran, but he cannot bring himself to leave Shireen. He goes out into the streets and attempts to find her. Walking past street markets and shops with passes by and shop keepers giving him dirty looks. Do they all know what he did? He didn't do much, all he did was plant stories in both the Iranian and Western press about Mosaddegh and his communist connections. He had very little to do with the coup itself and only knew some of the details of the attempt the night before, because of a drinking game he played with Steve and Kermit. 

Suddenly a crowd of men encircle John and they shout, "Englastani, Britani (Englishman)." They look angry, like a pack of ravages wolves looking at their next meal. John nervously shakes and tries to speak. 

"No, American...Maan Amerki Hastaam. "

The crowd sniff around him for a few moments and the atmosphere is tense, but they eventually give him the benefit of the doubt. They part ways and John begins to run through the streets. Visibly relieved but also terrified and sweaty, he must find Shireen, and then get to safety. Rushing around for a few hours, he becomes exhausted and nearly gives up, but then he finally runs into Shireen in a back alley. He heads towards her, but Shireen tries to walk away.

"Shireen..Shireen..Stop..Talk to me."

Shireen: "You lied to me. "

"I didn't I swear..I love you."

Shireen: "Stop it, I know. I feel so stupid and used. Alarm bells should have started to ring when my cousin Ali was arrested. No one else knew about that meeting with Olga the Russian, no one but you, yet somehow the SAVAK found out about it and arrested him. Don't you find that a little bit odd? At first I didn't want to believe it, but last night there was something off about the way you talked to me. I gave you my body and I remember how nervous you looked. You took my virginity, because you thought it would be your last chance to do so, because you knew what was coming. You're a spy and you were involved in the attempt to overthrow Mosaddegh." 

John looks soulful, "Yes it's all true, but I really do love you. And I want you to come with me. I have to leave the country, it's not safe here, but I won't leave without you." 

John grabs Shireen, but Shireen pushes him away, John grabs her a second time and Shireen tries to hit him. But despite her efforts, she cannot entirely resist him. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Shireen: "Stop it, spot it..just stop."

John kisses Shireen on the lips, Shireen responds by kissing back and exchanging tongues. Shireen is silently revolted by John alcoholic smelling breath, but continues nonetheless. Sliding, slipping and slurping, exchanging saliva, John and Shireen are really going for it. Shireen remembers that they are in a back alley and stops. 

Shireen: "Stop, stop. Not here."

"Come with me, please, just come."

Shireen: "Okay."

John grabs Shireen's hand and they begin running through the back alleys. John feels butterflies running through his stomach, despite the imminent danger they are in. They head for a safe house in South Tehran, where they will wait, until someone from the agency will pick them up and take them out of the country. 

John stares at Shireen sitting on the couch, "Darling, Janam, I have a few things to say, so please just listen and don't say anything until I have finished. I love you so much and I am so sorry to have dragged you into all of this. Believe this is the last thing, I wanted for us. When we get to America, I want to ask you a question. That question is will you marry me-don't answer me now- think about it and when we arrive tell me your answer."

Shireen places her finger onto John's lips and hushes him. She places her lips onto his and inserts her tongue. Kisses and eating John face off, Shireen eventually removes her tongue and starts kissing and licking around his neck, ears and ear lobes. Blowing air gently into his eye, for John a soothing sound, air crashing into his ear drums. Shireen inserts her tongue into John's ear and the suggestive power of this act forces John in imagine the Eros delights that lay in waiting for him. 

Shireen opens her mouth and John spits into it, Shireen processes the spit, before swallowing it. John pushes her onto the couch and pulls her clothes off. Laid bare before him, his delectable conquest, only his throbbing cock stopped him from spending a few moments staring at this beautiful creature. Her pussy is calling to him. He wastes no time, with his cock in his hand, he guides it towards Shireen's opening. 

His penis makes contact with her outer lips and he pushes pass them, Shireen's mouth and eyes widen, before she closes her eyes and lets out a groan. A pleasurable grasp comes from out of her breath, John pushes further and further in. Upon full entry he rests for a few moments, before pulling out and pushing back in again. 

"Ahhh..Gonna make you mind and make you mine for good. There will be no doubt about your ownership."

Shireen: "Give it to me big boy."

"Yes Ma'am."

The room temperature raises , two sweaty bodies are motioning back and forth with one on her back and the other stood upright. John pounds, harder and harder, faster and faster, he wants to get his seed out and doesn't mind the level aggression it will take it get it out. Around Shireen's pussy area the outer surface is turning red.

"Ahhhhhhh..Yeahh..Ahhhhhh..fuckk...good piece of meat."

Shireen: "Ohhhh Yeahhh..ohhhh..yessss..Your sausage ain't too bad neither." 

John growls like a hungry beasts, Shireen screams like a ravaged woman and together they make music. Shireen is screaming to the top of her lungs and John is too. Shireen's pleasurable screams, which are effeminate, whereas John's are overly masculine. All John knows is that he loves Shireen's inner sanctum, it feels warm on his dick and even homely, like his dick belongs there. Pounding away, there is no way this moment could be made any better.

Back and forth and back and forth. John raises his head to the heavens, he feels a new addition to Shireen's moist pussy, is coming. Oozing out, but coming out nonetheless. 

John screams to the top of his lungs, "AAAAhhhhhhhhhhhh.....Fuck yes....oh yess..." 

Suddenly, the feeling on intensity is replaced with a coming sense of relief. John knows it's time for the paddle party and he releases. A hot ejection of sperm is released and a sense of relief finally hits him. He can't stop producing cum and pretty soon, there is no room left in Shireen pussy for the thick hot white cream, the deposits overspill. Shireen doesn't care, she smiles and thinks, boys will be boys, they love their cum.

Shireen and John take a shower together and get ready, their contact will be here a moment. There is a knock at the door and John goes to answer it expecting to see the contact. Instead a group of Iranian men burst in and knock John unconscious. They grab John and Shireen and take them away. 

When John becomes two, he finds himself in a prison cell and he can hear screams and cries, which sound like torture is being carried out. John panics and quickly grabs a cyanide pill and swallows. He is dead within moments. Shireen is held in a cell for days, but on the August 21st she is released, unbeknown to her that her lover is dead or the events that have transpired since. She is shocked to discover that the coup has finally succeeded and Mosaddegh is under house arrest and awaiting trial. Many member of the Tudah have gone into hiding, so she lays low for a while, while trying to establish what happened to John. She never finds out, but gets distracted by constant morning sickness and then discovers the truth about her condition.  



Historical Erotica Ch. 02



Note to Reader: It's 1532 and the main character, Leyla Khanom, is a Harem girl of Turkish Anatolian origin. A raven beauty with dark hair and eyes with light skin, she is a woman of great intellect, culture and possess artistic and musical qualities. A great conversationalist who can hold discussions on Greek Philosophy, Astronomy, Theology, Political strategy, Poetry and great works of literature. But Leyla is not just dinner entertainment, she has political ambitions and wishes to use her talents as a lover to get closer to the corridors of power in the Ottoman Empire. Her position is constantly threatened by other women in the Harem leading to the Harem wars. 

*****

A crier burst into the Sultan's Majlis (throne room) while he is holding court and discussing important military matters with his generals. "Murder... Murder... Murder most Foul," the crier repeatedly says in an erratic fashion, which alarms the Sultan. The Sultan stares at the crier with a look of surprise and agitation on his face. The crier is humbled before Sultan Suleiman called the magnificent by some and the law-giver by others. Before the crier is the most feared emperor in Europe and leader of a rising empire. 

"Oh glorious Sultan, please forgive my abrupt entrance but I come baring nefarious news. The Lady Shireen, who lives in your Excellencies Harem, has been found with multiple wounds to the head and lying face down on the floor." The crier proclaims. The atmosphere changes from concerned to tense, The Lady Shireen was a gift to the Sultan from Shah Tahmasp of Persia and she was meant to cement Safavid-Ottoman goodwill. The Sultan's armies had finished fighting in Hungry and tension was rising on the Empires eastern border with Persia and now a Persian is murdered in the Sultan's Harem. 

While confusion reigns supreme, one person not confused is Leyla Khanom, who is quietly recovering from the heinous act she has committed. Leyla has never murdered before, but desperate times call for desperate measures. While rumours circulate about a Habsburg plot or an Uzbek conspiracy, Leyla has not interests in quelling these rumours, because Lady Shireen was no ordinary Harem girl. She was a niece of the Shah of Persia and was in-fact a Safavid Princess and whoever killed her would be executed immediately. But as they say 'You think you know a story, but you only know how it ends. To get to the heart of a story, you have to go back to the beginning.'

6-months earlier: Leyla Khanom in her own words

The new batch arrived today. More girls from the provinces, Greece, the Balkans, Ukraine and Hungry. Desperate European girls who hope to be married off to the Sultan or some high ranking official. I don't pity them, I despise them. My brother is in the Ottoman Army and is fighting in Hungry, and the brothers of these girls are trying to kill him. But nothing will stop our Empire, we are the rightful heirs of the Egyptian, Mesopotamian, Persian, Chinese, Roman and Greek Empires and heirs to the Ummayad and Abbasid Caliphates. 

When Mehmet II took over Al-Rum Empire (Byzantine), and conquered Istanbul (Constantinople) from them, it was a sign from God about our ascension. It was a vindication of Sultan Osman I dream of glorious empire and we shall continue to fulfil his dream by marching into the hinterlands of Christendom. They may have discovered the 'New World', but we are about to take the 'Old World' from them. 

Hasan the Janissary approaches me in great haste, the Janissaries are a corps of guards and special forces soldiers who fight in battles and provide palace security and security in the Harems. Despite being brave they are eunuchs or men who have had their manhood chopped off, which means the Sultan trusts them with us. Hasan looks at me and says, "Oh my dear lady, Farooq the commander has arrived and has requested your company."

Farooq and I are lovers, genuine lovers, for I am not a concubine. "Very well! If he indeed requests my company, than by the grace of God, I shall go." Farooq is a young officer who is helping to build up our naval fleet- he also has one of the largest manhoods I've ever seen. He'll want to indulge in some sodomy, before we must depart ways. I am entertaining at a dinner this evening and he has some other engagement. Of course, I do all of this with the greatest levels of secrecy, no one can know. In-fact Farooq doesn't even know I have other lovers or that I have been deflowered. 

I arrive at Farooq's room and there he stands, the eunuch leaves us and Farooq turns his attentions to me. He walks over to me and as I try to greet him, he grabs my face and starts kissing me. Slides his wet tongue and smelly breath into my odourless mouth, our tongues encourage and entice one another. Slurping away and sucking on each other's tongues, like a couple of sloppy animals during feeding time. I haven't had a cock inside me for a few days and so it would be nice to have something before dinner. 

Farooq pauses ravaging my mouth for a few moments, "Oh lady flower, you ignite a fiery passion within my heart, stomach and crotch. Like a rose you tease and beckon all those who approach, tempting them to pick your petals. Every flowers needs water for sustenance, every flower needs the sun and rain to grow, survival is the best indication of exposure. Yet, I am left to wonder what thou has been exposed to, how has this flower bloomed in the uneven soil of palace life?"

"Every flower has its secrets, but every follower has its morals and ethics. The flower remains loyal to the gardener and survives only by the grace of god. I have peaked only for you to enjoy me."

"You're too clever and lovely for your own good, but I fear, the urgent matter of relief takes precedents over riddle and mystery solving."

"If that be so, waste no more time in haste, for the sun shall rise and expel our moon. Do not allow the twitch in your britches to last another day, don't let your mind be possessed by satanic whisperings, for the Jinns (spirits) move in the shadows and they require the sultan of hearts to be at the highest level of attentiveness. Nay, allow this night to rearm yourself and to make your defences more verily, for this night makes the young lusty and the old weary. The fountain of youth begs you to take a dip, for only re-birth keeps the defences strong. Only a woman can make you strong again."

Farooq moves in for another kiss and places his hand up my dress and onto my bare leg. Suddenly, he thrusts me and turns me around, strong, assertive and manly, that's how Farooq is and that's how I like it. He pulls down my dress and under clothing and reveals my smooth, Turkish butt, which beckons all those who lay their eyes on it. Farooq takes a moment to stare in awe at the beauty of creation, surely none are left unstiff by the appearance of Turkish delight. Sweet as our food, pure as our souls and ripe as our fruit, so too does the Turkish butt reminds us of the simple pleasures of life. 

"Oh verily Sultan of Hearts, whose the finniest of red-blooded Ottoman males and the pleasurer of woman from the Balkans to the frontiers of Persia, surely though has not seen such a rare diamond among the common women of Christendom? Oh fertile Ottoman man, who is the noblest of creatures, but who must carry the burden of the large manhood and the women of Rum (Byzantine) eager to be conquered by it. The men of Christendom, who are envious of the knowledge that their women desire to be subdued by Ottoman masculinity, whom dream of nothing but the bloodiest of revenge. Why not unburden by taking on the only equal to the Ottoman man, the Ottoman woman, who is the purest thing this life has to offer. If thou knows this, why does thou hesitate, would the lesser men of Christendom or indeed the Great Khans of the Mongol Steppe show such hesitance?"

Farooq seems to get the message and begins to lick his lips. He falls to his knees and opens my butt cheeks with his two fingers. Though I can't see him, I know the look of his face must be one of wonder, intrigue and excitement, for carnal pleasure awaits him. He is about to engage in the dirtiest and filthiest of debauched desires, sodomy, he knows how Crusader men dream of performing such acts on Muslim girls and knows how lucky he is. Indeed the Turkish woman with her innocence and yet sultry suggestiveness seems to have a transcendent effect on men. Entering us is like entering a sacred garden with the ripest fruits, greenest pastures and most eloquent fountains. 

I feel his breath upon my naked butt, he kisses both cheeks out of respect of the power of my ass. Sliding open my cheeks and licking his finger, he inserts into my anus and start finger fucking it. The feeling of his wet finger does at first make me want to jump, but I remain composed and take it in my stride. Like a fat child at a cake feast, wide-eyed Farooq, has the look of overwhelming pleasure on his face. I let out a little groaning to encourage him to go further. 

"My Sultan is so kind and considerate, my cheeks are always wide for him. A woman's carnal pleasure is entrapped in her body and keep in there by society, but the fair Sultan, takes pity upon the lowly woman and seeks relief for the built-up lust."

Farooq now inserts his wet tongue into my asshole, he licks away like there's no tomorrow. There's no shame in allowing him to indulge in his perverted pleasures, for all men have their needs, wants and desires and if not satisfied they become a serious weakness that could destroy a man. The Ottoman woman takes the Ottoman man at his weakness and builds his strength up again, thus giving him the agility to fight off crusaders. His wet tongue makes waves inside my anus, which is becoming moister by the second. He shoves his entire mouth onto my opening and licks away like a greedy child in-front of a bowl of candy. Being anally tongue fucked is always an interesting experience, it softens the ass up for the final blow, which will be Farooq massive manhood.  

Slurping away, biting and fingering, my ass is completely in his hands. He's licking very loudly and I am concerned that someone will hear, not that this will be of much concern to Farooq, he's male and expected to do things like this. My power lies in a murky grey world between pure virgin and devilish whore. It's in my interest not to confirm the camp I am in, the world of the Ottoman court can be a slippery place. Farooq is finished licking me out and stands up-right, he pulls my hair back to raise my head. 

"Ohh... My Sultan is so strong, he possess the strength of 10 lions, surely I'm not worthy of the delight he is about to bestow upon me? I humbly pray that my weak and feeble body is enough to satisfy the hunger of the pack and that any pleasure I may get from the feed is merely coincidental and secondary to the lions feast."

Farooq rubs his cock onto my butt cheeks, he spits on them and rubs the spit in. Teasing my cheeks with spit and his throbbing cock that rests on them, he takes a deep breath and then pulls his cock towards my anus. Although but a few moments, the anticipation created a grave impatience's within me, the internal flame is now burning. Suddenly, I feel my anus opening up and widening and something large being poked in. The large object is pushing up further and further into my hole and I try to hold my tongue, but sound does still seep through. Farooq is groaning and grunting all the way, my ass is clearly having an effect on him. He's in, all the way, he takes a moment and then begins pounding and screams, yells and cries as he does.

"Oh my Sultan is so generous, may he not extend his generosity by going harder and faster? I want it and I want it bad. Show me what you are made off. I demand to know what the conquer of the Mediterranean is made off, please use the same force you used against the Spaniard Navies, the same brutal brilliance you used to subdue the Austrians." 

Farooq finds the energy and starts pounding my ass inside out, my outer cheeks go red and I egg him on to go harder and faster. I am loving every second of this, it's just a shame, Farooq cannot do the same to my flower as this would give the game away. His enormous balls clip away at my cheeks, I am afraid that he's going to rip my ass in two. I scream, cry, groan and grunt, I bite my teeth and I take what's coming to me with a smile. Farooq is nearly ready to cum and starts preparing himself to cross the threshold. 

"Ahhhh... Oh woman of Anatolia, the seductress of the south, who forces noble men into ignoble actions. The queen of whores and the embodiment of Eros pleasures described in the finest stories of high literature, will relief not come in your fertile lands. I know of men who would disembody themselves just to graze in your fields. Wives look in envy upon you and your abilities to usurp their thrones and take their husbands. No more-no more."

Suddenly, huge warm deposits entered into my anus making it wet with thick white liquid. Farooq gasps for air after an intense effort. He gradually moves of me. We exchange some brief pleasantries and he goes to clean himself off, as do I, I have a dinner to get too. 

Walking through Topkapi Palace with its endless peep holes, long corridors, grand rooms, beautiful gardens, princes, nobles, foreign envoys, ambassadors, honored gusts, servants, spies and possible assassins. Life at the top is a paranoid existence, but you wouldn't know it from all the games and good cheer that goes on inside the Palace's walls. I enter the courtyard where the mini-dinner party is taking place. High-ranking Ottoman officials and rising stars are enjoying themselves with wine, fruit and the finniest foods. Woman are all over the place, mostly Christians brought in from the European provinces, but there is also another woman there who I have never seen before. 

She's petite, light olive-skinned and very attractive. Elegant and well-bread, who is she? She is speaking Persian with a Persian accent. 

"Beloved, upon this river of wine, launch our boat-shaped cup, and into this river throw those weeping with envy, too. Winebringer, throw a cask of wine into my boat, for without that-for forty days and nights on the open sea- I will die of thirst. I am lost in this city and can no longer find the winehouse door. Please help me to find that street again where love resides. Bring me a cup of wine that is dark red and smells like musk. Don't bring me the expensive brand that tastes like money and smells like lust. Even though I am drunk and worthless, be kind to me, and on this dark heart shine the light of your smile. If it's sun at midnight that you desire, throw the veil from the face of the rose, and you will have all the light you need. If I die, don't let them bury me in a dusty grave."

She is reciting the Persian poet Hafiz and seems to have her audience captivated, I must quickly intercede, I move around the court in a womanly fashion sussing out the competition. I will not be outdone by the Rivers of Wine poem.

"Take my corpse to the winehouse and throw me into a cask of wine! Hafiz, if you have had enough of this world and all its violence, then take up the cup, and from the inside let this liquid love make peace." She finishes her poem and there is a huge round of applause, I must draw my sword and offer a challenge to her poetic recitation for this is about influence. 

I quip, "Impressive a newbie with such appropriate poetic talents for a drinking party, but does she understand the deeper meanings of poetry? The point of poems? It's not enough to be able to recite a poem, one must understand its inner dimension too. As Al-Muntanabbi relies to us, I am the one whose literature can be seen (even) by the blind. And whose words are heard (even) by the deaf. The steed, the night and the desert all know me, as do the sword, the spear; the paper and the pen."

Lady Shireen responds, "Even seen by the blind and heard by the deaf? What would you call the drunk, but deaf and blind! But I see even a smile on your face, thus my poem must have penetrated your heartless exterior and light a candle within your own heart."

I respond, "As Al-Muntanabbi also informs us, if you see the teeth of the lion, do not think that the lion is smiling at you." We encircle one another like a pack of tigers waiting for the other to strike and watching every move. The men seem to be enjoying the possible violent tension, female cat fights are arousing to them. Finally, one intercedes.

"Now then be still, for I speak. Ladies humble yourself and put down your swords, for by the grace of God, wars of the harem serve no useful purpose. Do not allow female arrogance lead you astray from the straight path, we seek your company for pleasure not for pain."

Both me and the woman begrudge, but accept and take a set-back and are seated. During informative discourse, I learn the name of the tiger, Lady Shireen and that she is a gift from the Safavid Shah and of reported royal lineage. Though discussion centres around International affairs from the idiot Tudor King of England Henry, Charles I of Spain and his designs on Milan and others, I am more concerned by the threat closer to home. Soon discussion moves to philosophy and I decide to take centre stage. 

"Honored guests and officials, we live in exciting times, times of innovation and enquiry and yet the same questions still vexes us. The Houses of Wisdom of the Abbasids produced some of the finniest knowledge, scholars, inventions and questions. And it is for us to continue the legacy, which has enriched our civilisation. For instances, what is the substance of all living things? The Al-Mutazilla movement of Baghdad and Basra during the early Abbasid years, believed the world consisted of tiny things called atoms. These atoms were set in-place by the great lord of the universe, but once he set the atoms in motion, he did not interfere in what the atoms created. Atoms are tiny elements, which make up everything around us, including us."

Lady Shireen intercedes, "Ah yes, the Muntazillya. The ones who rejected fate or predestination on the basis of the platonic notion of the unmoving mover. Personally, I find their theology, philosophy and renditions of the natural world too rational, materialistic and calculated they leave no room for awe and do not answer the question of beauty. The rational explanation is not necessarily the correct one and there is so much that it excludes. Don't get me wrong, Logos is vitally important, but don't let Logos dictate to you, like all things in life man reaches his true perfection when Logos and Mythos are equally balanced. They should be forced to work for you and not you it. Put simply rationalism is not rational." 

Shireen is vicious, "Surely, what you speak of is darkness. Shireen, reason is what governs our universe. I remind you of the dream Caliph Haroon Rashid had when Aristotle appeared before him. Aristotle told him he had the answer to the question that had vexed him. What is better for the affairs of man, reason or revelation? Aristotle said onto him, the two were not in conflict with one another, but it was only through reason that man finds true revelation."

She interjects, "I do not contest that forms of revelation can be found through reason, but I challenge the absolutists framework by which your assumption operates. Some things are beyond the cognitive reasoning of man, such as why and what is beauty and why and what is good and the problem of evil. Empirical reason does not explain these things. I see the beauty of a child's smile or the beauty of a mountain as a reflection of divine beauty. Beauty emanates from an interfering deity, for his beauty and its reflection is interference into our world. As Neo-Platonists and the likes of Al-Ghazali have shown us."

Battle lines have been drawn, I was merely attempting to engage in speculative reasoning to show my many intellectual talents and she has boxed me in. Such an attempt is clear, she aims to replace me and make herself the most powerful woman in the Harem, but for what gain? I am willing to bet that she is a plant for the Shah of Persia to wage a secret war. 




Historical Erotica Ch. 02



The following days prove to be very tense. One evening I see Shireen in a room on her own and I decide to enter and confront her. 

I move around her, she is dressed in her night outfit. "So thou who art so pure, readyes herself for the nightly slumber. Surely, the virgin has pure dreams in-which her moral up-standing are never questioned. Open as a book, is that not the expression?" 

"Of its Leyla, the woman of the night, who has appeared on this night. By the question is why? Why is this night different from other nights? Should she not be engaging in more speculative reasoning or should we say, speculative virginity?"

I grab Shireen by the arm and squeeze it tightly, "You would do well to remember that I am an old creature entrapped in this youthful body. I've been here and at the top for many years, because I know all the tricks of the trade and I fight well. Within these palace walls, between the rooms of favoured concubines and other buildings there is a dark area in-between. The area is called the gathering place of the Jinns and it's an area which is distrusted by all palace officials. But this space is not merely the gap between the known and the unknown, its where the different knowns pass through and those who dwell here learn about the different knowns. The world in the area is grey, but I live there, because information is knowledge and knowledge is power. I will discover what it is you want and then crush you."

Shireen holds her tongue, "Though is silent, I wonder what is concealed? The Virgin princess must have some secrets." I place my hand up her night dress and down her underwear and begin to poke around her female genitalia, I gasp, "I knew it. Though are not all you seem. Not pure, you are not even a virgin. Though inhibits the same space as me, but what information does she seek."

Shireen, "Lowly woman born of a whore, we are not alike and you have no right to violate me in this way. Remove yourself at once, cease and desist now." She spits into my face and enraged, I slap her across the face.

Brawling breaks out and we are hitting one another. I punch her across the face and she knees me in the stomach, using my long-red painted nails, I scratch her. Kicking ensues and we both end up on the floor and we wrestle one another and try to get each other into a headlock. The efforts are fruitless and the struggle pointless, for no sooner that hostilities broke out, that the great mother appeared and put hostiles to their end. She blames me for everything to the Sultan's mother and whitewashes her own role, whilst I did not receive much of a punishment, I have now fall into the great lady's bad books and I have to watch myself carefully. 

The Harem is a slippery and treacherous world, I've personal witnessed the demise of prominent concubines. The walls have ears and absorb everything, but how do they interpret what they hear? I know that Lady Shireen is a Safavid spy, but how do I prove it? I need to build up a network of loyal informers and build it up fast. Time is of the essence, moreover, she has challenged, insulted and harmed me and I want my pound of flesh. 

The weeks that follow, finds me turning to every peep hole and witnessing every sex act being performed. Shame and dirty secrets are the best kind to turn people. The trouble is Shireen has the same idea as me and it's hard to know who she has already turned. Watching every sex act performed. Girls with faces illuminated with white cream and colored by golden showers. Virginities and innocence's lost , expanding holes and erect manhoods all in the name of carnal pleasure. What animals are these? The smell is thick, cum's in the air, but unfortunately for these girls the smell of cum carries far and the pretence of virginity depends of my co-operation. It's true what they say, everything is about sex, except for sex. Sex is about power.

More weeks have passed and our noble lady has turned much of the harem against me. Her agents poison the air with their wicked lies. Careless whispers uttered between the sheets and pillows, indiscretions reported during cloak and dagger liaisons. I hear rumours of a secret committee being formed to investigate acts of treason, which, unsurprisingly my name has come up. Through enough dirt at someone and some of it will stick. I also hear plans for possible war with Safavid Persia, if this be so; this makes the Lady Shireen case more acute. I must hit her before it's too late. 

Few more days pass and my luck may be in. I've noticed the odd behaviour of a Christian concubine known to be on Shireen's books. She is favoured by a senior official and will wed him, but she behaves strangely in front of a black servant. If this be, what I think it is, I may have an important opening. I see this girl heading off to a room and I discreetly follow her, I notice the room she enters and I take to the walls and use the peep hole to pear through. Low and behold, the black servant and the girl are alone and I watch with anticipation for what will follow. 

The two exchange sweet nothings, then he lays his hand on her cheek and pushes back the hair. Delighted with this physical contact she raises her head and her eyes widen. He inserts his thumb into her mouth sideways and she kisses it. I love watching people fuck, I'm looking forward to this show, after all he looks quite hunky. Let the show begin. 

Their lips meet one another is a fiery passion, tongue in tongue, cheek against cheek and distinguishing one from the other is difficult. It's amazing how in a moment of lustful passion, we all become one. I hear slurping, licking, biting, waling and nashing, using his firm grip and large biceps the servant strips the concubine down until her naked breast is exposed. Shortly followed by her ass and pussy, she is completely exposed and on a hot night like this, she must feel the air pushing against her naked flesh to be a relief. 

Kissing down her neck while she kisses upwards, I find myself excited by what I am witnessing. I start to touch my own breasts, I gently rub and cress my nipples turned on, not only by the spectacle before me, but also by the fact they do not know I am watching. The concubine undresses the servant and starts to work her tongue across his big chest. Licking and biting away at his nipples, this servant is getting the treatment. She moves down and starts tonguing his belly button, but he becomes impatient and pulls her up-right and starts licking her back. He seems to take sustenance from her moist breast.

He moves downwards and starts licking her pussy, he's a good boy, showing his respect to womanhood before she serves it. She cries with ecstasy, transformative groaning, she entering into a new state. He really licks and slobbers over her pussy, he makes such a mess and a lot of noise. Taking huge gulps and swallowing, he's a dream partner, a man who doesn't mind getting down and dirty. She eventually takes pity on him and kisses down his body until he reaches his manhood. She kisses the tip, starts licking down the tip and playing with different parts of the penis. 

Using her tongue like a good whore, she spits and rubs the spit in. She obviously been well-trained. I am now furiously rubbing my nipples, but this is not enough, so I place my hand on my womanhood and gently tease. Oh the feeling is indescribable right now, watching this girl drooling and slurping away on a large piece of meat is very exciting. She now swallows him whole and takes deposits of precum down in droves. She even pauses to burp. Such a naughty girl. Who said revenge cannot be fun? 

She bites him a little, real uses her teeth. I am really rubbing myself and I don't care who sees it, in fact, I hope someone is watching. The girl stops sucking his dick and takes a seat and opens her legs, I think its penetration time. He inserts and grunts loudly as he does so, within moments he is pounding away, with his balls clipping her pussy. I am a little surprised she is allowing entry into her inner sanctum, but each to their own. They are screaming like wild animals, the scene can only be described as animalistic. Two hot bodies swaying back and forth all in the hope of achieving orgasm. 

The smell of sex rises upwards and enters my nostrils and is processed by my brain. Meanwhile, my pussy is becoming incredibly moist. It's really soft down there, I mean really really soft. They pound away for over twenty minutes and then they are both ready, the servant withdraws his manhood and she gets' on her knees and stares up at him with her mouth wide open. He starts to squirt and she closes her eyes briefly and then re-opens. He starts hitting every spot on her face, hair and mouth. She wipes away the cum with her finger and dangles it in the air until it drops into her mouth for swallowing. The air is thick with the smell of cum, watching this makes me cum too. I feel a huge sense of relief overcome my body.

"So, this is where you are? Being a little pervert and in the hope of catching me out." I turn and Lady Shireen is standing there. "Good girls do not watch other people have sex and masturbate, it looks as though, I have enough evidence to finally end you."

Shit she knows, I turn to face her, but have forgotten that my pussy is still exposed. She starts laughing, "Look at that little hole of yours, trying to show off. I'm afraid this will really be the end of you. Shame I was beginning to enjoy this rivalry, but the guards will be here any moment and you will be detained. There is a war coming, a war with Persia and I will cripple the Ottomans from within. Now you're out of the way, it will be much easier, I have everyone in my pocket and you are my last obstacle."

I burst into anger and I run at Shireen and jump on here, pushing her to the ground and trying to wrestle and hit her. "You bitch, you won't get away with this." I cry. I lean in to bite her on the neck, she screams, but then punches me across the face and I fly off her and land on the floor. She jumps on top of me and starts slapping me across the face and spitting on me. I struggle with her, but she places her hand on my mouth, I bite it and she removes it screaming. Ottoman politics can be so dirty. I push her off me and attempt to get away, she grabs me and pulls me towards her, I see a large stick on my side. I grab it and strike her across the head. She falls backwards, I strike her a second time and she goes down to the floor. I then beat her across the head numerous times, until she stops moving, it's only then I realize what I have done.

I quickly exist and seal the door into the peep hole room and escape. I quickly head back to my quarters and change clothes. The guards don't fine her straight away, she obvious didn't specify where we would be. But I am living on borrowed time and with a few hours the guards of the harem mount a massive search for her. I can't leave right away and I go straight to the court, where the Sultan is. While there the crier bursts in and I know the game is up. Sexual politics is a murky and cut throat road and so it has turned out to be for me.



Historical Erotica Ch. 03



Note to Reader: This story centers on mother and daughter, the daughter name is Asya and the mother name is Funda. The story is told primarily after the First World War during the collapse of the Ottoman Empire and rise of the Turkish Republic. Both women are beautiful in their own right, Funda with her blonde hair and hazel eyes and Asya with her black hair and blue eyes. Theirs is a time of change and this story tries to capture this change. Enjoy!! 

*****

A running man cries through the streets of Istanbul, "The allies are here, disaster, terror and horror will stalk the land. Oh Sultan, lead us to victory! Oh Sultan, expel these foreign invaders! Oh Sultan, won't you hear our cries? Oh Sultan, these Greek soldiers are rapists, pure and faithful woman are being violated. Turkish virgins are losing their honor, because we do not fight back, oh Sultan."

Funda looks upon the crier and feels a sense of relief, for starvation and blockade have besieged the streets of Istanbul and now with the allied take-over the sense of siege is over. But Funda is also worried about what this invasion means for her country. It's been thirty years since she was a Harem girl, but even now, she can recall the splendour of palace life. More importantly, she believed in the Ottoman Empire and its system of government, which had not only allowed her to raise a family, but also protected her family from the 19th century massacres of Muslims in Europe. Funda's grandfather was born in Salonika-Greece, 1-year before the Greek anti-Ottoman Nationalist revolutionary war (1821-1830) broke out. 

Although Muslim, her grandfather was ethnically and culturally Greek and spoke Greek as his first language. At age 8 his family moved to Athens and then two-years later, Greece had become independent of Ottoman rule and the massacres of expulsions of Muslims increased. Aged-10 he was forced to flee Athens for Istanbul with his uncle as his parents had been murdered by Greek revolutionaries. The horrors of the war have been passed down the generations to Funda and from Funda to her daughter Asya. Funda's husband, Mehmet, a tall strong man, who was an ethnic Laz and had roots in Georgia and whose family fled Russian expansionism, fell in service to the Ottoman Empire in Baghdad fighting the British in 1917. 

On top of this, the victorious allies are now carving up the Ottoman Empire for themselves. New States are being created, it's not clear whether there will be a Turkish State, but British Prime Minister David Lloyd-George has talked about re-creating the Greek Empire and encouraged the Greeks to take Istanbul and set-up Constantinople again. Rumours of large territories in Anatolia being awarded to an Armenian State, stories of European soldiers pulling the veil of women in the streets, and of rapes. Over 3 million Turks were killed during the Great War (First World War), but despite this, they are being humiliated long after defeat. Passed down trauma, traumatic experiences and sense of fear of what might happen are shaping Funda's thinking. 

Asya is sitting in a hotel bar where some Greek military officers have gathered, her Euro-Turkish looks and European dress style make her a figure of intrigue to the drinking officers. Unbeknown to the officers, is that she is deliberately trying to attract their attention, albeit in a subtle and lady like way. Asya is unlike her mother, she does not believe in the old ideas of the Ottomans, since she was a teenager, she has been an enthusiastic supporter of the Young Turks Movement. She wanted nationalistic reforms of the Ottoman Empire, constitutional monarchy and representative democracy. She has always believed that the Ottomans should stop reacting to other peoples' nationalism and assert muscular Turkishness. 

Sick of passed down trauma and defeatism of the late Ottoman age, she is eager to assert post-Ottoman Turkey. If the Ottomans are unable to create a strong nation, than the Ottomans have to go and a modern nationalist Turkish State should replace it. Although, Asya knows of her family origins, she has rejected it and instead adheres to the new nationalist thesis of the Turks being one people, who originate from nomadic hordes of Central Asia. These hordes are strong and tough and not a defeated people, they will guide the new Turkey. Her belief in this is so strong; she has joined an underground movement called the Grey Wolves, who seek to resist allied-occupation. She is their agent and her mission includes having affairs with European officers and getting information out of them. 

Delicately holding her glass and sipping her beer, while sitting at the bar with the Greek officers sitting in both behind her. Checking out her backside and her occasional glances at them, when she turns her head side-ways. Finally, one officer cannot take it anymore and get's up and approaches the young lady. He smiles at her and she glance into her eyes and pretends to be uninterested and looks away from him again. 

"Hello, how are you?" He asks.

She glances over at him again in an uninterested way and responds in a uninterested tone, "I'm fine." She doesn't even have the courtesy to ask how he is back. 

"My name is Captain Andreadis, what's your name, if I may ask?"

"Asya," she equips. 

"Wow, beautiful name for a beautiful lady. May I buy you a drink?"

"You control our country; you may do, as you please." 

Captain Andreadis orders Asya another beer, he tries to continue the discussion, despite Asya barely looking at him or answering his questions. Not very talkative, but this does not deter the Capitan, in fact it makes him want more. This girl with her classy and yet sultry look is giving him a hard-on. Asya can tell her strategy is working, she knows how to work men. This is her strength that she uses in the serves of her country, she cannot ride and attack on horseback like her recently discovered Central Asian ancestors, but she does have a sharp sword of her own. She gets him talking and gradually allows him to see the positive effects of his charm. By now the other three officers have joined the fray. 

There's Lieutenant Elias, Major Kaya and Lieutenant Lekas, they all hold some important positions within different divisions within the occupying Greek army. All four men seem mesmerised by Asya, her charm and beauty, make them incredibly horny. After an hour of following conversation, it becomes clear to Asya, that they are useful contacts to have. The men are clearly excited and Asya decides to drop hints about her sexual interest. The officers are ecstatic, Asya has just agreed to come with them to their hotel room for an orgy. 

She follows the men to the elevator and up they go. The soon arrive at the room, Asya enters and heads straight for the bathroom to 'freshen up' while the men prepare themselves. Asya stares in the mirror and pours water onto her face. She must remain composed and steady, she must dishonor herself so that future generations of Turkish women do not. This is for her country's survival. Failure is not an option, the stakes are too high. She eventually finds the strength and puts on her aroused face. Deception is awfully erotic. 

She walks out, "Right boys, whose first?" Capitan Andreadis rushes forward and stands in-front of her, he's followed by Major Kaya, while the other two sit on the edge of the bed and looked amazed and aroused. Asya leans in and kisses the Capitan on the lips, while the Major moves his head towards Asya's neck and begins sniffing her perfume. Slowly the Major starts to kiss Asya's neck and when the Captain pauses kissing Asya, she turns her head to face the Major, who kisses her on the lips too. The kisses are a mere brushing of lips, but soon, tongues exchange mouths and dancing between the tongues commences. 

Like a Latin rhythm, there is much tossing, turning, teasing, biting and sweat involved. The Major holds Asya's head and with her mouth wide open, he spit into her mouth, which she swallows. "Mmmm...the Major has such a refined salvia taste." Asya says in a teasing tone. To the Capitan, Asya is utterly delectable, very delicious looking and when the Major is assaulting her lips, he is licking her cheeks and neck. His hand is fondling and groping her. Above Asya's dress, both the Major and the Captain are molesting her breasts. The two Lieutenants cannot watch any longer, they both get off the bed and head towards Asya. 

Lieutenant Elias encircles the lovers and stops behind Asya, he's unsure of what to do, so he extends his hand and places it on Asya's voluptuous behind. Gently rubbing her butt above her dress, but already he is groaning and crying out yes. He's becoming very aroused, meanwhile Lieutenant Lekas, looks as though all his presents have come at once. He has a look over being over-stimulated, the visual is too sexy and the reality to good to be true. He feels he will cum many times today. He reaches out and touches her upper back, but he does so with such reverence and a possessed look on his face, like Asya's body has some holy relevance for him, as if he was a pilgrim trying to touch a saint's tomb. He runs his hand through Asya's dark hair. 

Lieutenant Elias gets onto his knees to kiss Asya's behind, like he is showing respect for the Greek Goddess in-front of him, at least she would be, if she weren't Turkish. His lips make contact with her dress which separates her naked ass flesh from his lips. He tries to lift her dress up after a barrage of kisses, slowly moving upwards, he encounters another obstacle, Asya's panties. Asya moves her hand behind her and pushes her dress back down. She then moves her hand and places on both the Major and Capitan's crotches. She kisses down both the Major and Captain and ends up on her knees. 

Arrive on her knees, all four men get into formation and encircle her. Asya looks up at them with her big blue eyes, while all four men unzip their pants and pull down their underwear, unveiling four hard throbbing uncut cocks. The four cocks stand over Asya like they are her imperial overlord and she looks at them with a reverence for power. These weren't four dick, these dicks represented the power the allies had over the Turkish nation. Asya takes a moment and then begins to stroke the top half of the Major's dick and then the Capitan's dick. She then moves around and strokes the two lieutenants. 

She tries to salivate her mouth and produces thick, white, drool and allows the drool to dangle of her mouth until it naturally falls onto one of the four. She repeats this process for all four. Each drool is followed by intense rubbing in of the drool, Asya pays particular attention to the foreskin area and works the early drool in. Massaging foreskins, while all men look upwards and downwards, barely able to control their excitement. Asya stops the long-drawn out drooling and starts an aggressive form of spitting and gentle rubs are replaced with aggressive rubbing and jerking off. She works the spitting and rubbing in down the tip to the base, she takes a brief pause to massage each men's balls.

All four men and grunting, groaning, screaming and crying with joy, some of the officers are married, but their wives are not as good as this. They begin to wonder if it's a Turkish thing or just Asya? Asya starts to lick, suck and even bite underneath their balls, she likes to leave her calling card and love bites are the best way. Licking one dick at a time, while jerking off another, it's fair to say that Asya has her hands and mouth full. Finally, she starts to suck dick, she takes Lieutenant Lekas in first. Sliding his cock in gently, inch by inch, before dejecting and re-inserting taking in more inches. She takes her time and breathes heavily on his dick. 

She moves away from him and onto Lieutenant Elias, and then Capitan Andreadis and then Major Kaya. She would blow hot air onto their dicks before inserting, she would let them enter her mouth further and further. She would go around each dick and take it down her mouth further and further, until it reached the entry to her throat. While sucking either the Major or the Capitan off, the two Lieutenants would stroke Asya's back and hair. From time to time they would pull on her hair. When Asya came around to Lieutenant Elias again, he pushed his dick down her throat, while placing his hand on the back of her head and placing pressure on it. A large lump appeared in Asya's throat and it looked like an Adam's apple, but of course it was cock.

More lumps were appearing in Asya's throat, but these lumps would appear suddenly and disappear again. They were deposits of juicy precum, which Asya was lapping up and taking in her stride. She coughs and makes noises indicating choking, but continues and eventually Elias let's go and Asya moves to the other three men and repeats the pattern. The intensity of what is happening makes Asya's eyes watery and her mascara and make-up run down her face. 

She keeps going around and around until all four cocks have received extensive oral attention from Asya the swallower with minimal gagging. The four men now want to move on and the Capitan grabs the sucker by the neck and pulls her upwards. Leaving red marks around her neck, he kisses her on the mouth and then dethrones her taking off her dress and underwear. He pulls her over to the bed and opens her legs and slides his cock into her pussy, meanwhile the Major jumps onto the bed and gropes her newly liberated ass and then open her cheeks and inserts. Both men hump away, while the two lieutenants line up with large erections and jerk off while Asya's pounded. Balls clipping her butt cheeks turning them red and stretching her anus and colon. 

Cries and screams will not help her, she must injure like a warrior she is. Her pussy is also stretching, but she's prepared. Both men fuck her brains out and when they get tired, the Lieutenants replace them and take her on. They take her in turns, but despite some of the pain, Asya is enjoying herself and even cums during one of the bangings. The cum runs out of her pussy and down her leg in typical liquid fashion. The smell of cum is thick and intense. Eventually, all four men are ready to cum and Asya jumps off the bed and back onto her knees with her mouth and eyes wide open. Four cocks encircle and jerk off in-front of her. 

Not know which direction the first load will come, she anticipates everything, eventually Elias squirts across her face and then the Major drops a load. Within seconds all four men are cumming and cumming heavy, thick white cream places itself on Asya's face, mouth, hair and even hits her in the eyes turning them red. Some even hit her breasts and down her chest. She is completely covered, if you called her snow white, it would make sense even without the seven dwarfs based on the way she now looks. Looks like the Greeks got a white Christmas after all. Asya takes every drop of cum and swallows it, she doesn't waste a drop, even the spill on the floor is not spared. 

Asya is now in the good books of all four officers. She goes to the bathroom and cleans herself off, but, unbeknown to the officers they have revealed some of their important secrets before they came up to the room. Which Asya can now take to the Grey Wolves. These men are full of important insights. 

Funda waits up late for Asya to return, she has managed to secure some meat at great expense, but nonetheless has secured. Preparing meat, oh how different her world is now, from the world she left. In 1888 she entered the Harem as a non-courtesan serving girl. She knew all the great and famous courtesans and being close to power made her privy to a lot of court gossip. Her's was the world of Abdul Hamid II the 34 Sultan of the Ottoman Empire, who was rather perversely labelled the 'Red Sultan' by European commentators or so Funda thought. 

The Ottomans were perceived to be backwards and in-decline by the Europeans, which was capitulated by the phrase, coined by Tsar Nicholas I of Russia when he labelled the Ottoman Empire, 'The Sick Man of Europe.' The Ottomans had lost most of its land empire in Europe by the end of the 19th century and European powers controlled Ottoman State debt and interfered with internal matters of the Ottoman Empire in its remaining territories, including in Istanbul itself. They want the Empire for themselves, it's no secret that Russia and Greece dream on taking-over Istanbul and re-establishing the Byzantine Empire and Constantinople. Orthodox Christian Russia still mourns the loss of Istanbul, which is the centre of their religious world. 

But for Funda, her memorises of Abdul Hamid's reign are different from the European perceptions. She remembers the same period as being a time of reform and modernization, when she was a child, she remember the first constitutional reforms carried out by the Young Ottomans movement. It was the first major attempt to create a modern state and constitutional monarchy, it sought to define and limit the powers of the Sultan and create equal citizenships for all Ottoman citizens regardless of religion or ethnicity. Many forget, but the constitutional movement met considerable hostility from Ottoman Christians, who because of European influence were largely above Ottoman Muslims and practically above the law, because if they broke the law the Europeans would interfere to prevent them from being charged. Equality would mean the loss of rights for them.

She remembers modern scientific schools being set-up, European style of dress being introduced into Ottoman fashion including the fez hat. No it was a time of great elegance, not decline. Abdul Hamid also promoted Islam and Pan-Islamic politics to create a sense of brotherhood with Muslims in non-Ottoman domains and to counter largely Christian nationalism. As the granddaughter of someone who fled European Christian Nationalism and a believing Muslim woman, the ideas of shared Islamic solidarity and brotherhood appealed to Funda. She wanted modernity not Christianity, which is what nationalism came to mean to her. The Nation must be countered with spiritual nations, which respects the traditions of the forefathers and is modern. 

Funda is not blind to the suffering caused by the Ottoman State, she heard stories about massacres and deportations of Armenians, but blames both the Europeans and the 1908 Young Turks movement. The Europeans meddled in Ottoman affairs, imposed the First World War upon her and tried to invade the Empire and encourage the Armenians to rise up. The Young Turks were to blame, because they tried to reverse the ideals of the Young Ottomans and tried to import and create Turkish nationalism along European lines, which created a strong nationalistic chauvinism within the new Ottoman government. It also abandoned the ideals of Islam for the ideals of German and French philosophers or so Funda thought. 

Working and living in Dolmabahce Palace, she became a woman within its walls. She met Mehmet there, he was a big shy boy, but obviously liked Funda despite taking two-years to express his feelings for her. They met in 1890, Funda was 20 and Mehmet was 24, in the palace. Mehmet was in army officer school being educated in European sciences and warfare; he was convinced that the Ottoman army was going to become a modern fighting force. Two years after they first met, he finally got around to proposing to Funda and they were married within weeks. 

Funda remembers the first time Mehmet dropped his pants and a large hard object was pointing at her. It makes her wet just to think about it. It was 9 inches long, at first Funda couldn't take it, but luckily for her, Mehmet was understanding as well as horny. She would slowly get use to his big manhood. Everyday Mehmet would drop his pants and Funda would try and get use to it, by stroking and touching it. She eventually found the courage to suck on his delicious cock and she loved it. She loved the taste and use to say, my husband tastes great. 




Historical Erotica Ch. 03



Funda's friends would gather around her and they would always talk about sex and their husbands penises. When Funda would tell her girlfriends about how well-endowed Mehemt was, they would become jealous. Funda's beautiful face always looked good covered in cum, it would illuminate her elegant features and bring out her blondeness. The first time she was deflowered by Mehmet was admittedly a little painful, but after much practise both her and Mehmet were much better lovers and both developed a sensitivity for each other's sexual tastes. When stressed, Funda knew what Mehmet needed was a good hard hand-job, which helped him relieve stress. 

Asya was born in 1894, which slowed down Funda's daily sexual activities, but she managed to get it twice a week when Mehmet was on leave. A very sexual woman, she enjoyed being fulfilled, but despite her sexual awareness and beauty, Fuda kept many of her old Ottoman superstitions. She washed three times a day, to push back her dirty thoughts and sexual activities. She always had the mirrors in her house turned around or covered, unless she needed to use it, because she believes vanity is a sin that's self-destructive and mirror encourage it. She would visit fortune tellers, talisman and female witch doctors for alignments that doctors seemed unable to treat. She even went to the witch doctor if she felt unable to perform sexually and needed some charms to get going. 

Her political and traditional beliefs drove Asya up the wall. Asya was a modern woman, who wanted to leave superstitious and religious beliefs behind, in-favour of European ideas, sciences and philosophies. She believed her mother's ideas held progress back. For Asya being Muslim was a cultural identity and religious beliefs an intensely private affair. She did believe, but only on the margins of belief. The First World War and its suffering, made her want to leave these beliefs behind and work towards a new society. Yet for her love of Europe, she also feared it and believed it was behind attempts to destabilise and destroy Turkey. A schizophrenic schism emerged within her, one part was love of Europe and the other was a loathing of Europe. 

Asya arrives home and Funda puts the dinner on the table, Asya is visibly limping and trying to hide the fact she's limping. Funda tries to confront her about it, but Asya fight her concern off. Asya's strong fight back concerns Funda about the state of modern women in Turkey and a fear sets in about her daughter's possible immorality. For Asya, Funda's notion of morality is a relic of bygone times, modern women cannot be held back by morality. The Turkish nation could no longer afford to hold women back. An intense and heated debate follows and ends with Asya storming out of the house. 

Funda thinks to herself, "We've become different people and yet we share the same lineage and you came from me. Without me, there's no you and without you, I am nothing. I gave you life, but cannot survive without you. I am old and you are young, I am the kingdom and you are the republic, I am an Ottoman and you are Turkish. Your world is unrecognizable to me and my world is a figment of a distant past to you. We share the same house as mother and daughter, but under my roof, we've become strangers. Indeed my house has become inhibited by strangers, the keys to the door have fall into the hands of strangers."

Time passes and Asya has been a very busy girl. Despite European plans to remain conquers of the Ottoman Land, the nationalist Turks have launched a war of independence. Asya continues to sleep with European officers and diplomats. Her tongue and mouth are very famous in diplomatic circles. But while sleeping with them, she's gathering vital information. The Turkish rebels are being lead by a charismatic and noble Macedonian war-hero, who goes by the name Mustafa Kemal. 

Asya's daring do's included assassinating Greek officers. Major Kaya was due to lead allied forces into battle with the Turkish rebels, a few days before the assault was due to begin, Asya sucked him off and allowed him to cum in her mouth. Asya spat the cum out and pulled a revolver on Major Kaya and shot him through the head and screamed, "For freedom, for Turkey and for the republic, I sentence you to death for crimes against the Turkish people." Asya was fucking and killing at an exacerbating rate. Sex and revolution was the same thing to her. 

In-between her sexual and politically violent antics, she began publishing pamphlets about politics, Turkishness and Republicanism. She even wrote eroticism and sexual guide books, which were condemned by secretly read. Finally, in 1923 the Turks expelled the allies, abolished the Sultanate and established a republic. The Ottoman prince and princesses were sent into exile and then a year later the Caliphate was abolished and Turkey became a secular republic. Asya was at the forefront of these changes and set-up a women's advancement and rights group. Her sexual exploits became legendary, even celebrated, despite cultural conservatism towards female sexuality. 

Asya married Kemal, who was half-Kurdish and half-Turkish, but like Asya accepted only Turkishness as his ethnic identity. He was a member of the Turkish parliament and respected reformist. Both wanted a progressive country and ensured to create one. They would go on to have four children together. But despite this, Asya's sexual exploits remained hot-topic of discussion. Rumour has it that Asya only picked Kemal after she held a competition, in-which he had to compete with four other guys. Each guy had to lick her pussy and whoever gave her the most oral pleasure, she married. This story never went away despite official denials from the couple.

The new radicalness of Turkey and Asya forced Funda to question her own values and created a mini-personal crisis. She swore she would never marry after Mehmet, so she did the next best thing. She began a string of sexual affairs with young men, these affairs were a result of a crisis of identity and being lost rather than a new woman yearning for modernity. Her favourite fuck buddy was her Kurdish friend's son, Ali. Ali was a virgin when they met, but at 20, lost his virginity to her. 

The story is fairly typical of Funda's new sexual exploits, she invited Ali into her home and gave him tea. He would ask him question about his life and whether there was any special girl in his life. She would then become playful and teasing, implying sexually explicit things, eventually she threaten to tell his mum that he made advances on her if he did not do as she pleased. Blackmail was how Ali lost his virginity, not that he minded, Funda was still a beautiful and sexy woman, a Milif in later language. 

She would place her hand on his crotch and squeeze his manhood above his pants to see if he was hard. When it was confirmed she got him to drop his pants and she would stand there inspecting the fine specimen and complementing him on his virility. She assured him of his woman-pleasing abilities and began poking his cock. She would drop to her knees and suck him off good, slurping, biting and drooling away. She would wait until he was ready and then she commanded him to fuck her. He wasn't allowed to leave or cum, until he had hit her g-spot and made her cum, which took hours. She turned him into a man and offered him anal as a reward. 

Ali told others and his friends would come over to play. For Funda this was her attempt to be modern and understand her daughter. But in engaging in such actions, she found herself not understanding the essence of her daughter or what it meant to be modern. She was playing catch-up, but didn't know what she was catching up too. She lost the sense of herself in trying to reform herself and become modern, to the point where nothing made sense anymore. The excessive orgies proved too much for her and she ended up alienating every one of her friends. Like the Ottoman Empire, this Ottoman woman was unable to understand the change and resulted in fruitless attempts at the wrong kind of reform. This proved self-destructive.



Historical Erotica Ch. 04



Note to Reader: The story takes place in an insane asylum in French Colonial Algeria, during the Algerian War of Independence (1954-1962). Dr Pierre Marques is a white French doctor, psychologists and therapist, who believes strongly in the French Empire and the civilising mission. Entrenched within him, is his belief, that Algerians and Muslims are inherently insane and backwards and that French colonization is humane and necessary to help Algerians. Dr Pierre specialises in psychological illness of the female mind from hysteria to nymphomania, Algeria represents a chance for him to carry out advance research and to test out theories, which he would be unable to test out in France and so the asylum is also a lab. Enjoy!!




A crowd of young French students follow Dr Marques through the asylum, "As you can see we have two sides to this asylum. One side is reserved for Europeans and the other is for Africans, Arabs and other non-Europeans. The separation is a practical thing, you see, the European mind is structured differently from the non-European mind. Europeans have obtained a high status of living due to their scientific inquiry and rational mind. The dark races of the world have an inability to form coherent and rational thoughts on par with Europeans. They are more prone to mental malaises, which, some doctors attribute to the warm tropical climates they come from. Heat reacts with blood, which influences the brain."

Dr Marques pauses for a moment and looks at his fresh young crop of students. "European illnesses are by enlarged caused by traumatic events, in other words, there is a reason for their mental malaise. Some are born with it, but the bulk of our European patients are not. There's no cultural madness for Europeans. The Algerians on the other hand are born into a culture of madness, backwardness and parts of the brain that should be responsible for scientific thought, instead produce superstition. You have to understand the Arab and African mind, because of this, we have to keep them separate from Europeans. But French civilisations has taught us to be humane and kind to our fellow man, thus, we take it upon ourselves to help them and to rationalise them. What we do in necessary and for the benefit of humanity."

Dr Marques takes the students through to a medical examination room. A dentist like chair with a beautiful, olive-skinned, slim, dark hair and eyed Algerian woman was strapped down to the chair and her legs forcefully separated. She is trying to scream, but her mouth has a wooden plate in it, which is tied around her mouth and allows her to breathe. "This is patient 32467, her name is Fatima and comes from the countryside. She's prone to hysteria and violent outbursts. She believes spirits have possessed her body and they commanded her violent actions. She was brought to our attention when she attacked a French Policeman in Algiers, she was ranting and raving about the evil of the French, when she was brought into the police station. Classic sign of madness, because the sane mind is a rational one and rationally we can see how France has benefited and helped the Algerian."

The students look at this exotic creature, the Algerian woman, who is like a wild animal and has been brought into captivity for her own good. The spectacle could have been improved, if they had put her in a cage and had a sheet over the cage, only unveiling it when everyone had gathered. Still this is not a circus, but the asylum does feel like a zoo from time to time. The trouble is the Algerian woman is hard to tame and only the strictest treatments can bring such a warm-blooded creature into line. 

Dr Marques lets his students stare wide-eyed at the specimen in-front of them, "Now, with Fatima most forms of conventional treatment have failed. On other patience, we'd use electronic shocks therapy, the idea being the shock of electricity would awaken the patient out of their delirium. But Fatima is no ordinary patient and shocks may not work on her. She is now acting up again, we must apply, another kind of treatment. Female restlessness and deliriums can be cured through orgasm, the chemicals released in the brain due to orgasm, has a calming and even numbing effect of the female mind."

Dr Marques puts the dentist like chair into place, until it's almost like a bed, "I'm going to demonstrate one effects method of this vast treatment." He puts on white rubber gloves and using the mental straps on Fatima's ankles, which form a arm like structure and is attached to the chair, pushes them back, which widens and opens Fatima's legs. Her white gown is pushed up and her naked vagina is revealed, "You may notice that the patience is without a bush. That's because I shaved it off the other day, the bush makes it hard to navigate, when administering this treatment and because the treatment comes first- shaving is a necessity."

There's a sigh in the crowd, Dr Marques continues, he takes his smallest finger and pokes into Fatima's female genitalia. The patient jumps up, Dr Marques turns and faces his students and smiles, "She's ready." Taking two fingers, Dr Marques, inserts them into Fatima and goes deep pushing pass the clitoris and deep into the inner sanctum. He looks upwards and looks like he is struggling to stuff a Turkey. He pushes in and out and in and out, he speeds up and pushes in hard. His face goes red from the intensity, while Fatima is screaming and crying and struggling to say anything. 

"It's important to be culturally sensitive, while doing this work. You see Muslim, Arab and African societies are male dominated and the women are nothing more than slaves to men's desires. One reason why this treatment is important is because in these cultures, there is a denial of female pleasure, women are not allowed to enjoy sex. This helps create female delirium. The values of the enlightenment have taught us about the importance of sexual fulfilment on psychological stability, which is why this treatment is cruel but necessary. What we do is no different and is indeed a vital part of French rule in the Third World, we help bring stability, civilisation, because the values of the enlightenment have made us love humanity so much, that its incumbent upon us to save it from itself."

Dr Marques violently and aggressively pounds his finger into Fatima's inner sanctum, "Empire is dirty work, but necessary work." Fatima's pussy begins to leak, white liquid can be observed coming out, but in trickles. It's oozing out and Dr Marques knows that he must intensify the pressure. He goes in harder and faster than ever before, more trickle out, and more and then some more. An exodus occurs and then a flood. She has cum and stops screaming, "We have calmed her down. And this is the modern miracle of science, it relives one of pain, restore sight to the blind and health to the sick. This is the meaning of French rule, its scientific progress. We have beaten the enemy, but they will return and this is your mission as doctors." 

There is a round of applause and the nurse enters the room to clean Fatima up. 

Dr Marques experiments with different techniques and tests various theories. He had a theory that all women were secretly bisexual, he would take a patient who was supposedly heterosexual and try and see if he could detect signs of lesbianism. He took one Algerian female patient who was a lesbian and had a non-lesbian one tied down and forced the lesbian to lick the non-Lesbian out to see if she would cum. Some of his non-Sexual treatments on Algerian patients were equally as bizarre, he wanted to understand the Algerian mind and want motivated them towards violence. He tried to develop machinery that could read brain waves and chemical reactions. He wanted to understand female sexuality, he did an experiment on female's reaction to cum and would cum on different parts of his Algerian patients bodies. From bellybuttons/stomachs to legs, face, eyes, mouths and hair, everything was considered.

Some of his colleagues wondered whether Dr Marques harboured secret sexual desires for the Algerian woman and in the guise of scientific research, would carry out his dark sado-maschonistic fantasies. He would always reply, "Such accusations are logically absurd, what I do and all I do is in service to humanity and has nothing to do with personal pleasure. I am a civilised man who is able to separate personal and professional worlds, I'm scientific and purely rational and this sets me and my colleagues apart from the Algerian. It's also known, thanks to Darwinism, that European man is the most highly evolved and would never think to devolve by going native. It's well known that the darker races are naturally attracted to the fairer races, but not the other way round."

But Dr Marques did enjoy his work and did have a thing for the colonized woman. Most of the women in the asylum would today be judged as sane, but this was not how French colonizers saw them. Algeria in-particular was a special place- for the French- Algeria wasn't just another colony; it was part of France itself. White French settlers had lived in Algeria for 100 years; it was a settler colonial society, which made their anxiety about the Algerian even more acute. Like many settlers, Dr Marques feared the sexuality of the Algerian, what if the Algerian man took the Frenchman's pride and slept with the Frenchwoman? What if the Algerian man corrupted the Frenchman and turned him into a homosexual? Some Frenchwomen believe the colored man is a wild animal with only a sexual dimension and so they sleep with them. 

Colored men have been sexualised and even feminised, seen as lesser men and the women are invisible most of the time, except as givers of pleasure. The Algerian woman was a route to control the Algerian man and Algerian society. Besides, with all the civilizing advantages the Frenchman had given Algeria, why couldn't the indigenous natives be grateful and allow the Frenchman to let loose and enjoy their women? Sexuality can't be stopped, but I can be controlled and Dr Marques aims to make sure the Frenchman controls the Algerian's sexuality. There's also a culture of shame around sexuality in Algerian society and to subject your patients to sexual demining practises, would humiliate them and make them understand the Frenchman's superiority over the Algerian and make them less likely to revolt or resist French rule. The patient must be completely demoralised.

But Dr Marques was about to be challenged. The Algerian revolt had turned into the Algerian War for Independence, but the greatest challenge would be posed by a young Algerian woman. Aisha Aziz, modern, beautiful, cultured and a female leader in the National Liberation Front or FLN. Aisha is Algeria's most wanted woman. Here she is at a rally.

Aisha takes the stand, "Brothers and Sisters, comrades and fellow Algerians, I greet you with the ancient Arabic words for peace, Asaylum-a-Alikum (Peace be upon you). We are gathered here today, because our nation is beautiful and because we are beautiful. But our beauty is struggling to breathe, our beauty is being held down, our beauty is being ravages and pillages. For the European saw it and felt jealousy at our fertile lands and envious of our old culture and wanted to rob it naked. The French have abused us, broken our bodies, bones and our minds. We've been bowing down, laying down and sitting down for a century and I think it's time to stand up. We are no lesser human beings, we are not children and we are a laboratory. We don't need the French, we need our nation back and armed struggle is the path to freedom for our nation."

The crowd goes wild. From the day onwards Aisha became a marked person for the French authorities. Fighting between Algerian revolutionaries and French police and troops broke out and was intense for many months. Aisha is believed to have been directly involved in the fighting, she also wrote pamphlets, proclamations and letters, which were distributed to revolutionaries and potential revolutionaries. The French tried various propaganda efforts to destroy her reputation and following, but nothing worked. It took the French two-years before they finally caught her, but when they did, they feared a criminal trial would only martyr her and make her a bigger threat. So they decided to send her to the asylum and Dr Marques to assess her sanity, it was hoped she could be classed as mad. 

Dr Marques had reviewed all his notes and awaited the first meeting with Aisha Aziz. The first step involves him questioning her. Sitting in a padded room when Aisha is brought in, she's wearing a stray jacket and has feet restraints on, she is guided to the chair by two guards and forced to sit. Dr Marques notices Aisha's uncompromising beauty, her elegant facial features and alluring eyes. 

"Lady Aisha Aziz, I've been going through your notes and I must say you are a very intelligent and educated woman, how does an educated woman get herself involved in irrational violence? You're not like my other patients, they are uneducated, backward, superstitious and uncivilised women from either the Urban poor or rural areas."

Aisha snaps back, "Do not speak of my Sisters who you have cruelly chained and locked up for no reason other than your Imperial arrogance. Jean-Jacques Rousseau once wrote that, it is a sort of folly to remain wise in the midst of those who are mad. The French colonization and settle colonial project is insane, but to justify your own madness, you had to convince yourself of the madness of others. You turned Algeria into one large asylum and criminalised indigenous cultural practises, these women are not insane, they are perfectly sane and rational people who hold some spiritual beliefs that are alien to you and thus are wrong in your eyes. You built these asylums not only to imprison free-thinkers and cultural practises, but also to make yourselves feel better." 

Dr Marques is silently taken aback by Aisha's articulate response, "If that is so, why do so many Algerians hand their brothers, sisters, daughters, wives, husbands, and sons and so on, over? And it doesn't explain your irrational violence."

"Violence is neither rational nor irrational nor even inherently ideological; violence is a means, a tool and a tactic. The reason for violence is because of what I have just described and what you have just said about the Algerians who hand their loved ones over. Our minds have been colonized, we've accepted a mental malaise that we are inferior and the French are superior because they are power and thus right. They beat us because we need to be beaten. The French exercises brutal violence against us and not only physical violence. They build their neighbourhoods, streets, shops and clubs to violate our local culture and to make sure we know how inferior we are. They make our laws and separate themselves from us. This is violence, this is psychological violence, but nobody would call French violence irrational."

Aisha stares blankly into Dr Marques's shocked eyes, "Our violence is natural response to these impossible conditions. Our violence is therapeutic, it's not to dissimilar to your electronic shock therapy. The violence is not only aimed at removing the French from our sovereign soil, it's a psychological awakening for the Algerians, and it's our electronic shock therapy. It makes us realize the power we hold in our hands and how vulnerable our captives are. We are no longer the slave, but the master and the expression of violence is an articulation of this idea."

Dr Marques is deeply shocked by Aisha and troubled by what she's saying. Aisha notices and says, "You look troubled! Is it because my ideas sound, in your words, rational? Is it because I had a good French education and thus should be semi-civilised? Or is it you recognize home truths in what I am saying?"

Dr Marques ends the interview there and has Aisha taken away. He is truly disturbed, because the implications of what she has said, means that he is a kind of abuser and not the doctor who aims to end abuse. A power, intelligent and fiery woman is everything Dr Marques fantasies about, but he never really found one that struck him in the way, Aisha just did. He wanted Aisha to himself. The weeks and months would pass, Dr Marques would interview, question and interrogate Aisha repeatedly, but something was happening to him. He was trying to break Aisha's spirit and make her see her own irrationality, but instead Dr Marques was starting to break down. He was having doubt about the system he serves and its mission, while Aisha remains steadfast and unbreakable. He was also starting to have romantic feelings for her.

Aisha was moved to a room with limited security, but one which, would allow Dr Marques with both unfettered and discreet access to Aisha 24/7. One day, Dr Marques enters Aisha's room and starts talking at length about everything and nothing, Aisha senses something is going on and demands to know what he wants.

"I'm a very lonely man and I've become lonelier still after first meeting you. I have been unable to reconcile my work with my conscious, in-short, I am having doubts and I feel crippled by it. I no longer believe in all of this. I feel like a criminal and cannot see why I could see no wrong in what I am doing here. I'm a good man, when I was younger, I would help old ladies cross the street and I was always willing to help people. That's why I became a therapist, I wanted to help people and serve mankind. How did I go from that to this? Do you know the English hymn Amazing Grace?"

Aisha shakes her head and Dr Marques continues, "It's a hymn written by a slave boat captain, who after years of working in the transatlantic slave trade has a deep crisis of conscious and turns against the trade. The words are I once was blind, but now I see and I feel like I am in that position now."

Aisha responds, "Colonization is not only oppressive to the colonized, but also the colonizer. The colonizer is forced to compromise their morals, ethnic and humanity in order to colonize. It oppresses both groups and enforces roles upon both sides, which individuals struggle to break out off. You are as trapped as we are, the system sustains itself through fear, suspicion and hate and these three things consume both the colonized and the colonizer. Thus liberation from this means liberation for both groups, what the French don't realize is our liberation is their liberation too. We free you of these bedevilling things and allow you to go back to an honest life."

Dr Marques looks at Aisha, "There's something else Aisha, I'm falling in love with you and I yearn and desire to be with you. But this system and situation makes that impossible."

Aisha senses an opportunity, she gently takes Dr Marques's hand and slides it up her white gown and down her panties. "Go on, I know you want too," Aisha says. Dr Marques starts to place his hand on Aisha's pussy and gently rubs and strokes the outer lips. Aisha looks at him encouragingly, Dr Marques, rubs ferociously and increases the intensity of the rubbing. He gradually penetrates her inner sanctum and Aisha begins to groan wildly. She closes her eyes and places her hand onto Dr Marques's face-at first onto his cheek and then his forehead. Sticking two fingers and finger fucking, Dr Marques becomes a wild beast. After 30-minutes Aisha produces thick cum and Dr Marques swallows the cum that has assembled on his two fingers. 

Following that evening secret liaisons begin between the two, both write love and erotic letters to one another. Aisha pens, "Oh doctor, I feel a fever and a sadness emerging. Won't you come with all your medicines and bed-side-manner to me and relieve me of these ailments. I am unfulfilled and require your undivided attention. Touch me, hold me and take me away, only you can save me." 




Historical Erotica Ch. 04



These teasing letter and the increasing love of Dr Marques for Aisha led to Dr Marques to make a fateful decision. He decided to help Aisha escape and run away with her. One evening the opportunity presented itself and Dr Marques disguised Aisha as a nurse and lead her out of the asylum. They both get into Dr Marques car and head for a safe haven, they speed away for hours until they reach the Sahara desert and entered into a medium size town. Dr Marques and Aisha head for a local hotel and check into a room. 

Dr Marques looked at Aisha, this gorgeous creature before him and knew she was all his. He sat on the bed and Aisha came towards him, dressed in a simple night outfit, she crawls onto the bed and sits on Dr Marques's lap. She holds his hands and smiles before moving forward, she passes his mouth and kisses his neck and then pauses and places both her hands around his head and presses her head into his eye. She pauses and then breathes heavily into his ear and whispers, "Tonight we are free, tonight is our night. Tonight is what could be and I will do things tonight that will blow your mind."

She opens her mouth and extends her tongue into his ear, makes brief contact and withdraws. She does it a few more times and then starts nibbling on his earlobe. Dr Marques works his kisses onto Aisha's shoulder and works down. He pulls down her arms straps and her night dress begins to fall off and her olive-skin is revealed. He kisses away at her breasts, and starts licking and sucking on her nipples. Her nipples are ripe and life-giving, they have converted Dr Marques from a skeptic into a believer. Female nipples sustain life and now they are sustaining Dr Marques. The succulent tit has an overwhelming effect on him. He love's it and can't get enough.

Aisha stops kissing and says, "Go down on me." Dr Marques pauses, takes his head out of her breasts and looks her in the eye and then nods. He kisses down her naked body and starts licking out her bellybutton. He then moves further down and kisses around her outer lips, ten on them, finally placing his tongue on her entry. The room temperature is sweltering, sweat consumes the lustful couples flesh, but both are so deeply engaged with one another that neither particularly notices. Dr Marques starts to penetrate the ever groaning louder Aisha's- inner sanctum. His tongue feels the inside of her and wants more. Aisha closes her eyes and tilts her head back, ecstatic cries leave her lips and the promise of farther sexual indiscretions make the orgasmic atmosphere electrifying. No woman or manhood will be left undry on this evening. 

Aisha's amazing body produces internal juices, which Dr Marques slurp up and takes in heavy loads, ever eager for more. A vaginal juice moustache appears on Dr Marques's upper lip and he wipes this off and swallows. Aisha smiles at the development and kisses Dr Marques on the lips, inserting her salivated tongue and exchanges bodily fluids. She kisses down his body and drops to her knees and pulls down his pants and underwear, both her lays his manhood, which is ever hardening with fresh air and Aisha's heavy breath, which make contact with it. Aisha looks up and then down again. She licks, bites and swallows away. She really works away at his cock, pushing skin back and forth and licking underneath his balls. 

Finally she sucks and swallows his cock whole and a large lump emerge in her throat. She sucks and swallows hard. Nothing is left unjuiced, the contents of Dr Marques's manhood are empted down Aisha's throat in large gulps. She loves to suck cock. Her breath smells of cum and the air is thick with the smell of cum. Dr Marques withdraws his manhood from Aisha's mouth, he pulls her up onto the bed and throws her onto it. He jumps on top of her and slides his penis into her vagina. 

Like two wild animals savagely going for one another, the couple rock back and forth and the bed springs shake violently. Fucking has never been so intense, sweat falls off Dr Marques's body and onto Aisha's body. Constant fluid exchanges on every level make this dialogue a very wet affair indeed. Aisha feels like her pussy is going to be ripped open and Marques feels his cock is going to burst. But both solider on, revolutions are messy affairs and a sexual one more so. Looking down at his lover, Dr Marques feels any trace of supremacist ideology he had left has gone and a new interracial fait accompli would replace the old order. Marques feels Aisha becoming very moist and leaky, she runs down her leg and his. Dr Marques does not stop and pushes harder. 

Suddenly, he feels climax coming and closes his eyes and rests his head on Aisha's shoulders, it's coming out. He screams and cries and more cum comes out. Within moments his barren cock becomes fertile and cannot stop producing thick cum. He fills Aisha up. The couple rest for the rest of that evening. They spend a few days on the run, but are eventually caught and taken away by the French authorities. They deem him to be a criminal and all of his psychological treatments are exposed during tribunal. He's disgraced and held in a cell, before going mad and committed. The therapist who had him sectioned concluded in a report, "His mental malaise was a result of his misunderstanding and abuse of French civilising values. This forced him to go native and led to this condition."