2 comments/ 14353 views/ 6 favorites Anitole's Arabian Nights By: Anitole ANITOLE'S 1001 ARABIAN NIGHTS THE CAVE OF WONDERS To find the cave of wonders One must wander far and wide, Until they know the world afar And foretell the winds and tide. In gaining knowledge of this art, A true love you'll acquire; And if purity of heart sustained you, Then your journey can transpire. Travel through the world you know Until the landmarks shift; Loose yourself in desert sands Until they form a rift, Beneath which lies the cave or wonders Where only sure shall tread, Where happiness and wealth abound Provided you're not dead. ***** "Come along, girl." They had been traveling for days on end through the desert sands and the girl, Rana, was growing tired of the Moor's attitude. As he rained his horse and turned it round to face her she dropped to her knees; immovable. "I must rest," she said. "Or perhaps you'll let me ride the horse for a few miles." The Moor set his jaw. He was not angered, that much she knew. He was never angered, never emotional in any way. Nothing he did seemed rash or uncalculated. It was one of the things she found most frightening about him now that she'd been walking along behind him at a steady clip for almost a week with no apparent destination in mind. The Moor nodded his head and dismounted, taking the water pouch from its hook on the saddle and uncapping it to drink. He then corked the sack and tossed it deftly to her. "Only two mouthfuls, it needs to last us another day's ride at least." "Where are we going?" "You've asked that before." "You didn't answer me then." "And from that you should have learned a lesson, girl." Rana set a scowl on her face as she opened the water jug and had a swallow of the cool fresh water. It was sweet mercy to her dry pink lips. The Moor fiddled with the straps of his saddle a moment and she watched him, still very much in the dark about him and his origins. It had been late, well past sunset when she'd first felt his boot graze her hip, jarring her from a dreamless sleep. His hand had gripped her arm and raised her up to rest her back against the outside wall of the brothel, the chain securing her to the foundations jingled slightly and tightened, causing the manacles to cut slightly into her wrists as his other large callused hand held her jaw firmly up to the light of the window. She had not bothered to open her eyes; she found it easier most of the time not to see the men she pleased. Instead she simply opened her mouth to the examination. "How much?" The voice was gruff and business-like. "Three for my mouth in the street, ten for my body in the house. You pay the man at the window." She was released then and weakly she fell back against the wall. She heard the traveler shout to the house as he walked to the main door. "Proprietor! I bring you business." Rana had leaned back against the wall trying to remember her dream as the men talked at the window. In a moment she heard the jingling of the large key-ring. The traveler must have paid the ten. The proprietor's keys opened the locks on her wrist and the brothel-keeper kicked her and commanded her to rise. She did so, keeping her head bowed as she began to walk toward the house. "Stupid!" the proprietor shouted, grabbing her by her wrist causing her to wince. "Where are you going? This man has bought you, ignorant bitch!" There was a crack and a small scream of pain from the brothel-keeper. The Moor's whip had appeared and done its work quickly. Rana stumbled back as the brothel-keeper fell to his knees, biting back curses. For the first time she took in the tall and imposing figure of the Moor as he recoiled the whip and walked quietly forward to grab the little balding proprietor by the remnant of his bleeding ear. "My property is not to be so maltreated, sir." And with that he released the brothel-keeper and walked to where a large grey Andalusian stood tied and waiting. "Come," he said, as he mounted and then prompted the horse onward down the dirt street. Rana looked at the brothel only a moment before running along after the horse and it's rider as quickly as her legs could carry her. She took her second mouthful of water and then obediently corked the pouch and, rising, returned it to its hook on the saddle of the Andalusian. "I'm rested now," she said, bowing her head as she spoke. The Moor was not listening but instead observing the horizon, quietly and thoughtfully. In a moment, he turned and looked at her, she was a pretty young girl, her long dark hair in a tangle, her clothes tattered to the point of immodesty, and had he been of a mind to do so, he would have wanted her body. "Rested, yes?" She nodded. "Good," he said. "You may have the horse for some miles. I feel a desire to walk." Rana smiled at the Moor. He did not return it, nor did he even seem to notice the show of gratitude as he was already setting out to walk; his long strides carrying him quickly over the dunes of the desert. She knew enough to not dawdle and quickly mounted the large horse and spurred him on after the strange Moor. Catching up, she slowed to keep pace beside him, silently keeping pace and casting brief thoughtful glances at him intermittently. Compared to her he was very tall, but then again, Rana was only just over five feet herself, so most men were tall by comparison. His face was not smooth but very furrowed and prematurely aged by the endless time she suspected he'd spent in the desert. He talked little, and looked at her even less. "Do you not find me attractive, Master?" The Moor did not look at her but considered the question. "It makes little difference, does it?" "You purchased me. For what purpose did you do that?" "For my own purpose," he cast a side-long glare at her, indicating that the line of questioning would not be fruitful. She nodded, to indicate she understood his want of silence and continued to enjoy the respite from walking, and the slow steady step of the large beautiful horse. "Your horse is very pretty," she said at length. "What is his name?" "Césaro," the Moor replied and kept on walking, keeping his eyes trained on the horizon. Rana reined up the horse then, causing the Moor to stop and turn and look at her questioningly. "Master," she said, tentatively, "What are you called?" The Moor looked down at his foot prints in the sand going back a mile or two. He did not look up for a long time, and then turning, he continued to walk, waving over his shoulder that she should follow. She did, quietly, not pressing for her answer, but at a length her silence was rewarded. He spoke. "Aaqil bin Jaaved, but it makes no difference." "Why is that?" "Because a slave calls a master one name, girl." "Yes, master." "Your next question, I am of a mind to answer them, now." "How much did you give the man for me?" "That I will not tell you, it will make you conceited. I do not like conceited women." "I am to be your woman then?" "No. But liking you will help the journey pass less tediously." "Where are we going?" "Hell in the end," he said, and for the first time he smiled. "But before then we shall both be rich. You will see when we arrive." "Arrive where?" "The cave of wonders, girl. That is our present destination. Where, sunk deep in the belly of the earth where only the pure may walk unafraid, treasures await in over-abundance." Rana nodded, thinking at last she had hit on the Moor's insanity. "You speak of the cave of the genie and the lamp?" The Moor stopped and looked up at the young girl mounted atop his horse. "Your tone suggests that you're ready to walk again, I see..." Rana steered the horse away from the Moor skillfully. "Tone, master? I was unaware of any tone." The Moor leered at her and then proceeded to walk onward. "Then you may ride a few miles more," he said, following his mysterious course as the wind picked up a sudden gust and blew the sand around about them. Rana set the horse once more in step beside her master, Aaqil bin Jaaved, and when they had gone a little farther she cleared her throat to signal her want to ask another question. "Yes?" The Moor replied. "When do you mean to... employ me?" The Moor stopped and looked up at the girl, had his expression lacked some of its control one might have thought him puzzled as to the intention of the question. As it was he simply waved his hand and jeered. "At the cave," and with that he held out his hand for the rains of his horse. "Now you'll get down so your master may rest his feet." ***** Rana and her master talked little as they traveled, but Rana soon noticed she was being given longer and longer turns on the horse, and her master was less and less inclined to speak roughly to her unless she deliberately showed disobedience. He had seen fit to provide her with her own mat for sleeping, and he gave her food in a bowl of her own, and when the desert nights grew especially cold he gave her a blanket. To pass the time he gave her riddles to solve and puzzles to work, for he apparently was very learned. He carried on his horse only two sacks other than the water pouch, one filled with provisions, the other carrying a few books from which he loved to read every night, sometimes aloud for her benefit. They were by no means great kindnesses-- ordinary, in fact-- but it was not long before Rana found herself looking at the strange Moor with something not unlike respect and fondness. He was older, perhaps old enough to have some grey in his beard should he ever allow himself to grow one. He wore black robes and a seminar on his left hip. The whip, with which he had taught her former master respect, stayed coiled on his right hip. Early on in the journey she had feared that whip and how he might use it on her. But as their trek wore on and it became more and more apparent that the Moor was not interested in her for the purpose of objectification, she relaxed and learned it was just another part of his clothes. In the mornings he refused to let her wash him or clothe him as was a slave's duty. All he asked was that she take care of herself and the horse, not wondering off or trying to leave him. She obeyed, enthralled in what was fast becoming the first adventure of her young life and knowing not at all where in the desert he was taking her or where, in fact, they were in the world. Ocassionally he would let her ask him questions, either on the trail or by the fire at night before they went to sleep on their separate mats. "How old are you, master?" "How old are you?" "19." "I would have guessed younger." "You would have guessed wrong. Now my question?" "Take your age and then add one, square the sum and then divide by ten. Finally subtract nine from the result." Rana calmly took a stick from the fire, extinguished the little flame with a puff of air from her lips and did the calculation in the sand. When she was done she looked up..."31?" She asked. "Correct. You're getting better. I'm much pleased by that. Nothing is so useless in this world as a person who can't think properly." Rana nodded at this statement, before looking across the fire at the Moor, taking in the features of his face. They locked eyes. She found could not help but stare into the depths of the fire reflected in the dark pools of his pupils. "I would have guessed you were much older," she said at length. The Moor laughed and rolled onto his back to look up at the stars above. "Go to sleep, girl. We should be there any day now." The Moor listened to the sound of the fire and beyond it the sound of the girl shifting on her mat making herself comfortable. Aaqil bin Jaaved listened intently until he heard her breathing become more regular and then, he rolled again on his side to watch her sleeping in the soft orange glow of the fire. Remarkable, he thought, so scrawny and small. ***** It was the first dream she could recall for a long while that she'd not had interrupted. Rana lay naked on a large bed of thick soft pillows in the center of the desolate dessert, the sun high in the sky was as bright and hot as it had ever been on her trek with the mysterious Moorish master, but the air was not the insufferable dry air that made her skin flake and fall away, but instead a moist and humid heat interrupted at intervals by breezes from a near though unseen sea. Relaxing on the comfortable bed, composed of the most expensive pillows lovingly sewn buy eastern hands, Rana felt suddenly the hands upon her, large and rough, moving up her abdomen to cup her small breasts and then the kisses on her neck, loving and unhurried. Rana had never known a loving touch, and so this sensation was strange and powerful, the soft sucking kisses on her skin seemed to emit energy of a warm sort deep within her. It was alien to her, and almost frighteningly so; she had been sold to the brothel in Agrabah long before she was old enough to have memories of any other life. She'd spent her youth moving through the rooms serving the patrons, changing the linens and avoiding the clutches of the more perverse customers. When she was finally of age the brothel-keeper had taken her violently forcing himself upon her in a fit of awkward thrusts, any resistance she had shown resulted in sound slaps across her face or backside, she had done all he demanded, crying hot tears through the whole ordeal until finally he had tired of her and taken her out into the street where the chains awaited. Foul memories of the countless men, who came up to her at the brothel's wall during all hours of the day and night, forcing her to pleasure them with her mouth and hands reared up in Rana's dream. She recalled the degrading manner in which they gripped her by the hair or, sometimes by the back of the neck, one after another pumping away at her until her jaw ached and her throat was raw and dry from so much abuse. The scents of their feted cocks, some of them unwashed after long journeys through the hot desert, caused her stomach to turn and she groaned in her sleep not wanting to give up the good sensations of the dream. She focused on the gentle feel of the gentle sea-breeze and the softness of everything; the pillows, the air, her skin, the lover's touch, moving over her frame, the kisses searching down her neck to her breasts, lovingly focusing on her nipples. She smiled in her sleep at the vividness of the dream, almost thinking she would awake from it to find her tall, dark, handsome master enjoying her at last. In the dream, she opened her eyes to find her wish fulfilled. He was there, his dark skin glistening in the strange light of the dream as he held himself up on his arms above her. She moved a hand over his chest, feeling the sinew of the muscles she knew were secreted under his long dark robes. She imagined the skin was rough, just like that of his hands, and as she pushed herself up to kiss his lips in the dream she imagined they tasted sweet and surprisingly soft by comparison, she imagined his tongue, too, exploring her mouth slowly before he lifted himself away and kissed his way slowly once more down, past her breast, to her small dark bush. Rana smiled in her sleep enjoying the sensations she imagined, the feel of her master's tongue, hands, and finally his manhood... She smiled in her sleep at the vividness of the dream, almost thinking she would awake from it to find her tall, dark, handsome master enjoying her at last. But when Rana opened her eyes to see the face of the man kissing her skin she found herself awake, slumped forward on the back of the Andalusian stallion, her master leading it through the arid desert night towards a light on the horizon. It had all been an illusion, none of it real. The air in the desert night was very cold, the rags she wore did little to warm her. Shivering, Rana straightened herself up on the back of the horse and watched the light as it grew bigger and closer, and bigger and closer until they were at the mouth of the huge cavern seemingly sprung open like a gaping maw in the untraveled heart of the desert. "How..." she began. Aaqil bin Jaaved stopped the horse and dropped to his knees on the floor of the desert, bowing his head and making a prayer before rising up and offering his hand to the girl to help her down from the mount. "It is a place only the most experienced nomad may find when he is completely lost," Bin Jaaved explained with a grin. "My part is done. I have gotten us lost for three days and the cave has found us. Now it's your turn. "My turn?" "Yes," the Moor waved his hand to the mouth of the cave. "You are of the brand of purity the cave demands. I am not." "Purity?" Rana scoffed. "I'm a whore?" "And Aaqil was a sneak-thief, girl. The cave takes only the most unfortunate retches, don't you know? Anyway, if you're right about your impurity the cave wont stomach you and I can always go back to Agrabah and pick someone else up off the street." "What happens if the cave doesn't 'stomach me' as you put it?" "Well, I assume you end up food for a three-headed dog or some other unforeseeable and rather exotic end will befall you. Don't worry, though, nobody's going to miss you. You've got nothing to loose and everything to gain." Rana looked at the Moor's face. Something about his words seemed to denote a sense of humor finding root in the perverse situation. The face however was somber and expressionless, the cool dark eyes locked on the entrance of the cavern. "Get going, I'll be waiting here to take you back." "I thought you said you were lost?" "I am." Rana almost said something more but the Moor looked at her impatiently and she knew better than to talk more at that moment. She walked towards the entrance of the cave and then as she reached the entrance she heard the Moor shout to her. "Rana!" She turned back. "What?" "Don't doubt yourself. The cave senses doubters." She nodded and then turned back, taking her first step into the cave. ***** Needless to say the cave did not collapse upon Rana's entry. She sighed relief and turned back to wave to her master to show she was alright. Bin Jaaved, however, was not watching after her, instead he was busying himself with the trappings of a fire, seemingly unconcerned with her. She jutted out her bottom lip, felling a sense of hurt, but after a moment she shrugged and continued down the carved stone steps of the cave, heading deep into a series of catacombs interlocking in a chaotic labyrinth. Wanting desperately to turn back and ask for Bin Jaaved to come and guide her, she felt a sudden shutter in the depths of the cave. She then realized that turning back was impossible, as it was an admission of doubt. She stilled herself and, looking at the numerous options, took the tributary cavern to her left. She continued on like this for some time until she came to a large open cavern, and in that instant she saw the piles and piles of wealth amassed in the cavern and fell to her knees in awe. There were not enough kings, sultans, rajahs, pashas, and emperors in the world to demand such a ransom. And, on a pedestal in the center of the lofty cavern, Rana saw a large ring with a ruby for its center stone and two small blue sapphires offsetting it. Of all the riches surrounding her, this ring was by far the most appealing object for inspection. So, Rana stepped forward, making sure to walk with an air of purpose in her step, and when she reached the ring she looked down on it's ornate beauty, satisfied that it would be hers. Reaching out, she took it from the pedestal brazenly and put it on her finger. She was surprised to find it fit her perfectly. She smiled at it, admiring how it caught the light on her admittedly dirty finger and then, suddenly a flash of fire erupted from the red ruby and filled the chamber with a deafening roar and an overpowering smell of sulfur. Rana screamed in surprise and tumbled backward over a pile of jewels as the smoke took its form in front of her. Anitole's Arabian Nights "Whooo-hooo! 'Bout bloody time!" The genie waved away the last strands of smoke and revieled herself to be as small and lithe as Rana, though her body was slightly fuller and was shaded an unnatural tone of red. Her breasts were full and her hips and backside curved softly in a splendid beauty that only magic could account for. Her hair was probably her most striking feature under other circumstances; like a bright orange flame, it flowed out of her head in long strands that seemed to float on an imperceptible magical wind. What was only slightly more striking about the magical female figure was her nakedness of which she did not seem ashamed. She prostrated herself very lowly before Rana. "I am the genie of the ring, obedient only to the one who wears my ornament by the command of providence." The genie looked up cautiously, "B.C. or A.D.?" Rana lifted herself up on her elbows looking at the strange creature in a wondrous stupor. "Huh?" She said. "Never mind, doesn't matter much anyway. Things don't change that much in the Middle East." And with that the genie turned on her heel and walked over to the nearest pile of riches. "Okay, we have a haystack full of needles and I'm sure you're in a hurry..." "Wait, wait... You're really a... a..." "Genie, yeah. Look, I'll answer all questions at the appropriate question and answer time but for now..." The genie pointed her fingers at one of the piles of riches and before Rana's very eyes the gold and jewels withered away and turned to sand. "What are you doing?!" "Oh, hush. It's the only way to find him." "What? Him? Him who?" "My husband, silly. Don't you know how it works? Genie of the ring, Genie of the lamp. We're a dynamic duo, like Batman and Robin, Burns and Allen... Oh, come on, where is it?" "Batman and who?" "Don't worry about it dear." The genie dematerialized yet another pile of loot and grunted in impatience. "Man, oh man, does 25,000 years go by at a snail's pace?" The genie pointed at two more piles of riches and they too disintegrated to dust. "That Aaqil, he never put things where he said he would. Not that I ever really got after him about that." The genie chuckled slyly at her own private joke and then set her brow in mock dissatisfaction. "I told him to leave it in the pile nearest to the..." The genie turned and looked at the pedestal, then at the small pile of jewels upon which Rana was seated. "Oh, no wonder. You're sitting on it." Rana had no time to react to this before she felt the mass of wealth on which she sat disappear beneath her and herself fall some two feet to the ground onto something hard and metallic. "Eureka! Okay, now pick it up, honey. That's it, good girl. You've done this before? No? Well; you hold it like this and now, give it a few good solid rubs." The genie jumped a little in excited anticipation as Rana, holding the lamp by its base, rubbed its tarnished metal side as instructed. There was a very strong rumbling as cool blue steam issued forth from the lamp and grew to an enormous cloud filling almost the entire cavern before taking the form of a very large, very handsome, very naked, and very blue man. He dwarfed both Rana and the genie of the ring, both of whom seemed to come no higher than his ankle. He looked down at them from his lofty heights and spoke to them in a booming voice that commanded attention and vibrated through the cavern walls. "I am the genie of the lamp, I am indebted to the one who has released me from my prison... I shall grant unto you, noble girl, three wis... wait a minute... Ruby?" The genie of the ring waved up at the giant blue man and shouted in an extraordinarily loud voice "Hey, hunky. Shrink down a bit, I want to kiss you!" A great poof of smoke and the genie of the lamp was scaled down to the point of being only a slightly less imposing seven feet tall, the female genie coming to about eye-level with his chest bone. His hair was chalk-white, as was his beard and the light matting of hair running down over his chest and abdomen to his pubis. Rana did her best not to stare at the large appendage nestled therein and instead watched as the genie of the ring jumped up enthusiastically and clutched her arms around her husband's neck kissing him lovingly as she wrapped her legs around him. "How you been?" "Oh, you know, no matter how much I scrub I can't seem to get the smell of oil out of that thing. You've been out long?" "About ten seconds. I told you, you'd be my first order of business." The genie of the ring snaked a hand down the broad muscled chest of her husband and caught one of his small purple nipples between her small red thumb and forefinger. "Any amount of time is a long time to be without you, honey." "Flatterer." The big blue genie of the lamp kissed the small pink genie of the ring on her forehead and cupped the soft pink flesh of her bottom in his large blue hands, enjoying the warmth of her buttocks as his large manhood began to twitch and grow in size and girth. "Who do I thank for this wonderful gift of freedom?" The genie of the ring giggled as she felt the firmness of her husband's member begin to press against the soft inner folds of her vulva. She let one of the hands come from around his neck so she could point to Rana standing slack jawed and staring at the two of them with an unintentional look of awe on her face. "Oh, hi," said the large, blue, fully erect genie. "Where was I, darling?" The genie of the ring, Ruby, whispered in his ear and he nodded letting her drop gently to her feet before exploding once again to his former gargantuan size. "...THREE WISHES! For letting me out of that tin can I'm going to give you three wishes, whatever you desire I will bestow upon you so that you may have the happiness and the blessings you deserve." His message done, the genie of the lamp shrank back down to his smaller size. "What is the name of our new master, or should I say mistress?" "That's a good question," Ruby said, turning to look once more at the small dirty-faced girl in tattered rags. "Good God, honey, first thing I'm giving you is a decent outfit..." at this Ruby looked down at herself and blushed a deeper shade of red. "While I'm at it..." The smoke cleared almost before Rana could even register that it had appeared and looking down at herself she found her body adorned in a soft white fabric sewn expertly with golden threat. Light pink and red stitching adorned the bodice of the gown and the skirts, which were light and flowing, had slits up the sides so that her legs were free to move without tearing the material. The genie was also clothed, though more modestly in sort of red skirt and matching bodice, her stomach left bare and in her belly button was planted a small red ruby. She shook her hips a little and rushed over to stand beside Rana. "How do we look, baby?" The genie of the lamp ran a hand through the thin white beard of his face and cocked his head. "I liked it better before. I could see more. But honey, you're misbehaving, we have to follow protocol, don't we?" Ruby sighed, "Oh, you and your rules..." the genie of the ring put a hand on Rana's shoulder. "He's very stern with me because I grant an unlimited number of wishes." "Small wishes," The genie of the lamp interjected. "Yes, small wishes... One could call them that if one were of a mindset to be a snob." "I'm not being a snob, I'm just giving our mistress...Uh, what was your name again, dear?" "R-r-r...." Rana was still a bit speechless. "Oh my. I think we've been pouring too much on too fast, dear. Perhaps I shouldn't have done the clothes without giving her a warning first." "Rana," Her voice came out as a squeak, but she stilled herself and added more confidence. "My name is Rana." "Oh, that's a nice name. Isn't that a nice name, dear?" "Ruby..." "Oh, yes." Ruby ran over to stand beside her husband and together they fell to their knees before Rana. "We serve you Rana, mistress of the ring and lamp. Command us, mistress..." And with that they both fell silent, their foreheads nearly grazing the sandy floor of the cavern as they waited. "I...I... honestly don't have any idea what to wish for. Um, do I have to do this right away, don't I get some... some time to... think?" The genii looked up, both of them puzzled by this statement. "You mean you didn't have your wishes in mind when you first setout to find this cave of wonders?" The genie of the lamp said. "Well, uh, it wasn't my idea to come here. I was... I was a whore at a brothel in Agrabah, and this... this man... Aaqil bin Jaaved, he uh, he..." The genie of the lamp jumped up then and held up his hand. "Save it, we get the picture. Okay, so you were a whore and this man bought you and sent you down here to get the ring and the lamp..." "Well, he didn't really send me down here for anything in particular..." "Trust me, it was for the ring and the lamp. They're the only two things down here of any value." "But what about..." Rana turned to indicate the piles and piles of riches only to see the room was empty of everything save large dark dunes of sand. "You see. Once you let us both out, all the other riches turn to sand, just as they would have done if you'd carried them out of the cave. It's kind of a security thing. We're very valuable, you know?" "Both individually as well as together." "We prefer to work together, though. Ruby's only half a genie without me." "And he's less than that without me. Are you going to put on clothes or what? I'm sure our mistress would have an easier time paying attention if you'd put that thing out of sight. I'd find it easier too. " "Sorry, a few thousand years, you want to let them breath a little..." With a poof the genie of the lamp was dressed in dark black robes of a strange cut, his feet clad in black leather boots devoid of laces, and his muscular chest bare and born proudly. "Better?" "Only from the stance of decorum, dear." "I need to sit down." Before she knew it, Rana had been pushed backwards by the genie of the ring, to land in a soft comfortable chair. "Ottoman, dear?" "I..." "Perhaps a back rub? I'm good at those." "She's good at all sorts of rubs really. I should know I'm a genie... bit of a rubbing expert." "Th-Thank you. Um, actually... I have a real wish. If that's alright?" "Big or small?" "Um, small, I suppose." Ruby bowed and smiled. "Sock it to me, baby." "I wish my master could set foot in this cave, though he is not pure of heart." With a flash, the cave was filled suddenly with light and at the center of it appeared the Moor, Aaqil bin Jaaved, with his grey Andalusian stallion in tow. As soon as the light was extinguished he and his steed stumbled in the darkness slightly looking about disoriented. "Where am I?" Rana ran to him and took his arm to steady him. "I've wished that you would be able to enter the cave of wonders." "I... Oh? Wished? You mean..." the Moor looked over to see the two genii observing him appreciatively. "Oh, damn it. You released them?" "I...I..." "Both of them? You couldn't have saved one for me to release?" "I'm sorry, master." "Don't call me that. You have the power of both the genii of the ring and lamp. You are no longer my slave. However, I'm very upset with you." The Moor sank down on the floor of the cave, running a hand up under the cloth atop his head and pulling it back so that he could scratch his bald head. His horse snorted and walked away to drink from a mineral spring further concealed within the cave's depths. Bin Jaaved looked up from the ground at the girl who had walked with him through the desert and noticed the new clothes she wore. He smiled to see her skin was clean and her hair brushed. "Couldn't have been bested by a prettier foe, though." "What does my master wish? I will have the genii grant you your heart's desire." "Why? They are your wishes. You should have them for yourself." "Eh-hem..." The genie of the lamp waved a hand. "No substitutions, extensions, or refunds. Offer void in Utah." Bin Jaaved looked at the large blue man, smirking slightly. "The stories don't lie. You do speak strangely." The genie of the ring walked over and crouched on the floor beside the dark skinned traveler. "He's just being stuffy. So long as you keep the wishes small and the girl loves you unconditionally, three wishes will be granted to you by my power..." Here the genie leaned in close to whisper. "...of course, a thank you for little old Ruby now and again might earn you extra credit." Bin Jaaved cocked his head as the genie of the ring stood once more, licking her bottom lip coyly. "What does the mistress's master wish for?" "Small, you say?" "On a cosmic level, yes." Ruby explained. "Don't go wishing for your own planet or anything. In fact, your own kingdom is a bit of a stretch as well..." Bin Jaaved looked over at Rana, her small frame made all the more sensuous by the lovely clothing that clung nicely to her shape. She didn't seem so puny now that she'd been cleaned up by the genii's magic. He stood and walked over to her, holding out his hand. Rana, to his surprise, took it warmly and held it tightly in her own. He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips. As she felt his lips graze hers, Rana heard a loud roaring boom from the other end of the cave, the voice of the genie of the lamps declaring "Granted!" Bin Jaaved rolled over on the very large bed of pillows through the wide open flaps of the large princely tent, looking out on to the sea, puzzled for a second as to how he had come to be so near the seashore in the blink of an eye. He inhaled the air and knew from the smell, for the first time in three days, where he was. "The Mediterranean," he said, making to stand up from the bed. He felt a hand pulling him back down into the bed and as he rolled over to face the person he smiled to find it was Rana, snuggling her nude form up against his own, her smooth cheek brushing over his shoulder as she moved herself on top of him, straddling his stomach. He could feel the heat of her, and the dampness against his stomach as she rubbed tender vulva against the rough and scarred flesh of his muscled abdomen. "Getting me to bed? That's your big wish?" A voice from outside the tent answered him. "Actually it was more connubial." The large blue genie walked through the doorway, bending low at the waist to allow himself room. "Congratulations on your marriage, Aaqil bin Jaaved." The little red genie of the ring strolled into the tent after her husband toting a string of freshly caught fish which she hung from the post. "Honeymoon present," she explained. "Just think of the way you like them cooked and then snap your fingers twice. A bride should never have too cook dinner her first night. More important things to do... Well, enjoy." The two genii vanished then in a small plume of purple smoke and Bin Jaaved looked up into the curious eyes of his young bride who was bighting her lower lip. "Bad wish?" She asked. Bin Jaaved sat up so that his face was only inches from his wife's, he let his arms embrace her and pull her firmly against his chest so that her small breasts squashed against him. "The cleverest answer I can think of is, 'why didn't you wish for it sooner?'" Rana smiled down at her husband and touched her forehead to his before hissing him soulfully. She ran her hands down his taught hairless back as she felt one of his fingers slide along her spine. She shivered a bit at the sensation and then pushed her husband back down on the bed. She kept her eyes locked with his as she leaned down to kiss along a scar over his ribs. "What happened here?" She asked as she tongued her way over the scar down to the top of his left hip. "A disagreement in a tavern." "Over a woman?" "Yes, I thought I was with one, imagine my surprise." Rana let out a small laugh before continuing her oral exploration of her husband's body. She kissed a small star shaped scar on the side of his right hip. "This?" "It was a storm at sea. I fell against a mooring cleat." Rana paused and looked at a nasty set of scars high up on the left shoulder. "It looks like an animal did that." Bin Jaaved opened his mouth to speak but as he did so he felt the sudden warmth and wetness of a small tongue touch the tip of his manhood lightly. "Bear," was all he managed to say as he felt his length devoured skillfully, the tongue moving along the vein on the underside of his girth. He felt amazed as his wife's nose touched his pubis and then, as she withdrew he felt the coolness of the sea breeze in sharp contrast. Rana inhaled deeply, and then smiled up at him. "Almost couldn't fit the whole thing," she said. "Maybe I should wish for a smaller one, master?" "All things considered a bigger mouth would be my suggestion." They shared a laugh and then Bin Jaaved ran a hand through his wife's dark hair, feeling it flow smoothly through his callused hands as she rested her head on his stomach, looking up at him. "You must never call me master again," he said. "I am Aaqil." "And I'm still Rana," she said, running her palm over her the hardened penis, admiring it, considering it. "I used to be so frightened of these things." She breathed a light sigh as she repositioned herself so that her head was nestled on her husband's shoulder. He felt her hand run over his chest and then he felt it move further down over his stomach to grip him firmly, so that her hand was an uncompleted circle around his shaft. He felt her begin the slow methodical motion and closed his eyes, savoring the sensation a few moments before stopping her hand. "I'd like to pleasure you first, if I might." Rolling her over onto her back, the dark skinned Moor lovingly kissed his way down over her breasts, taking special care to catch the nipples between his lips and suckle them gently before moving on over her abdomen. Rana breathed heavily as she felt his chin brush her downy soft bush. And when the pressure of his tongue was poised against her outer lips she could not help but let a small squeal escape her lips as it moved inward and upward to find her little golden bud sheltered within. He used only his tongue at first, slowly tracing light circles and suckling softly at the juiced which flowed forth, then as he felt the shuddering of her body and the quickening of her breath, he intensified his speed and began running the tip of his tongue up and over the small pearl before plunging it deep into the small opening. Rana bucked as he did this suddenly the first time, her breath catching, her back coming up from the bed only to be firmly pressed down again by the firm hand of her husband on her stomach. More pressure as his chin dug into her softly and moved with the ministrations of his mouth and she could feel his hands moving underneath her to cup her buttocks, tilting them slightly so that his angle seemed to shift while his head stayed stationary. "Oh...ooooh," Her own hands were running up over her breasts, pinching her small dark nipples before moving simultaneously up to her neck and down to brush the tops of her curly pubis just inches from where her husband diligently worked. One hand moving to support her from underneath while the other brought a long finger up to explore the inner lips of her vulva and then plunge slowly but deeply inside her three, four, five simple little strokes. "Ahh-ah-ah-ah-ah." And then more pressure from the long hot tongue. Suddenly she was overwhelmed by the orgasm, radiating from the little bud clasped firmly between her husbands lips, it bust out of her in a loud moan as she clenched his head with her thighs and held him firmly in place with her hand, grimacing in ecstasy and then letting her face relax, and her body fall limp onto the soft silken pillows. Anitole's Arabian Nights The two explored each other for hours, until the sun had set on the emerald green sea. Aaqil kissing every inch of the young woman with the bright innocent face he had found discarded in the gutter outside a brothel. Only when she had finally fallen asleep had he given up his labor of love, his own mouth dry and aching from all the pleasure, filled only with the taste of her flowing juices. As he had fit his body next to hers, he took in the simple curve of her hip under his hand and the chaotic arrangement of her hair on the bed of pillows. His hand had clutched hers in the eloquent silence of the night broken only intermittently buy the rolling of the waves against the sandy beach, As he drifted of to sleep, his eye came to rest upon the plane and simple lamp, nestled not far away on a large purple ottoman, he couldn't help as his eyes closed, imagining that it was glowing red hot and shaking slightly with a rocking motion.