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The Harem's Lessons Ch. 01

By: Littlest_Terror



Ariya had not always been a slave. Her bronze skin and long dark hair marked her as one of the tribal desert people, and she had been their princess back when the gods were kind. Times had changed, her father was dead and that would have made her queen. Instead, she walked like a commoner, among the rest of her defeated people.The signs of her new place in life were beginning to show. Her tiny feet, with her perfect toes, were growing hard and callused from days of walking and her thick, shapely lips were chapped from the cruel desert winds. Her hair sat in a ponytail high on her head, the way warriors and peasants wore it to keep the heat off their necks. She was loathe to do it, but after the march had begun the warm, sticky sweat in her hair had been suffocating.

The mountains that appeared on the horizon three days passed had been a welcome sight, despite the fact that Ariya knew not what awaited her when the caravan reached the border keep. Now relief was quickly giving way to unease as her feet touched the sandstone steps that led to the keep's enormous wooden doors. She hesitated for a moment, and was reprimanded by the sharp crack of the slaver's whip at her heels. The tall, brutish man barked at her in the slaver's language, of which she did not speak a word, but it was easy enough to grasp the meaning, and she continued up the steps. At the head of the caravan, the head slaver, Roj, spoke with the gate guards. After a brief exchange, the doors opened and the long line of slaves was led into the keep.

As Ariya walked through the doors, the breath caught in her throat. Outside, the keep appeared modest at best, but inside it was a palace. Flowers and hanging vines hung from endless stories of balconies, walkways, and bridges in a dizzying spiderweb that seems to almost touch the clouds. The stone walkways danced around wide sections of soft grass, tiny pools and waterfalls. Sunlight that had seemed so harsh just moments ago rained pleasantly down on the open palace grounds and seeped into the tall archways that gave entrance to the interior of the keep. Ariya frowned. Beautiful it may be, but it was a prison just the same.

The gawking slaves were ushered forward through the gardens and under the highest archway in the square. Inside the palace was even more impressive. The walls were smooth sandstone, the height of at least three men by Ariya's measurement, and the halls seemed to continue forever. At last they reached a set of doors ornately carved in smooth white wood and inlaid with gold. Another set of guards opened the doors and Ariya and her people were led into a grand throne room that could have held every building in her village back home. They were lined up in front of a dais and the two thrones upon it. The thrones sat empty, however, and the man who greeted the slavers stood from a smaller chair to the right of them.

"Master Thalian." Roj said in the common tongue as he embraced the man, "I am honored to be greeted by his lordship's chief advisor."

Master Thalian was a short man, dressed in sheer fabric and a gold belt over which hanged a massive gut. He greeted the slaver warmly, "Roj, we have not seen you in these walls in many months. We had begun to fear that the desert winds had blown you away."

Roj shook with polite laughter, "War came to the desert, but we profited from the civil disputes of the tribes. Three hundred fresh slaves, and his lordship gets first pick before I make my way into the Green Lands." He led Master Thalian down the line of slaves. "They are from the defeated tribes, most of them are strong and youthful. They will make good guards, servants, or any other use Border Keep would see fit to give them."

Master Thalian inspected each slave slowly. "I have been instructed that we need no more than thirty this time, some new serving girls, since his grace lost his temper with two of our old ones and sent them to clean the stables. Some new guards, and... What's this here?" Master Thalian stopped in front of Ariya. She looked down, but Roj grabbed her by the chin and yanked her face back up so that Master Thalian could inspect it.

"You have a fine eye, sir. This one here was a princess before I acquired her." Roj grabbed the cloth of Ariya's thin linen dress and ripped it. Ariya tried to pull away, but one of the slavers had come behind her to hold her still. Her full, perky breasts fell out as the fabric dropped to her waist. Roj gave one of her soft round nipples a harsh pinch, "She is a rare beauty, and untouched. My healer says she is still a maiden, and I did not let any of my men have her. But I warn you, she is willful and spirited."

Ariya cringed as Master Thalian caressed one of her breasts and cursed under her breath as her nipples hardened at the touch. "A rare desert flower. It just so happens that my lord collects rare things."

Roj seemed taken aback, but Ariya knew it was all part of the game. "I would curse myself a thousand times before I would let one such as this become a mere serving girl." He grabbed Ariya's hands and showed them to Master Thalian, "To have these perfect hands grow rough with kitchen work would be a shame. Besides, I was thinking of taking her for myself."

Master Thalian frowned thoughtfully, "A princess turned serving girl would be a tragedy indeed. But my lord will want her for a different purpose, I think, and will pay well to add such a thing to his collection. I am sure we could find a way to coax you into parting with her." Though his frown remained, Roj's eyes smiled, and Ariya knew he had won.

After much bargaining, Roj consulted with the other slaver's in their secret language, before selling Ariya and thirty-five others. "This many fine slaves at such a modest price. I hope his lordship will remember the sacrifices I have made on his behalf the next time my men need fresh horses." Roj said with a grin.

Master Thalian smiled, "The Border Keep has long been fast friends with your people, sir. We look forward to your next visit." With that, the guards showed the slavers, and all that remained of Ariya's tribe, back out the doors and out of her life forever.

Master Thalian turned to face those remaining. He began to bark orders at the guards, who took slaves with them off to their respective duties until only Ariya remained. She hugged her breasts with her hands and shivered, the cold shackles around her wrists chilling her soft flesh. She met Master Thalian's hungry gaze with her fierce golden eyes. How easy it would be to kill this man... if only there were not so many armed men in this cursed room. Master Thalian smiled at her, then gave what remained of her clothing a yank and it tumbled to the ground. His eyes went straight to the mound of coarse hair between her legs. He reached forward and grabbed her shoulder with one arm, and her hip with the other, pulling her close to him. "So lovely... A pity you are a maiden or I could have you myself before sending you to him and he would be none the wiser."

Ariya gave him a violent shove and backhanded him with a shackled hand. He cursed loudly, stumbling, and two guards ran forward and grabbed her by the arms. "You stupid wench!" Master Thalian exclaimed as he stepped forward, returning her backhand with one of his own. Ariya felt the sharp sting across her face. "Hold her arms up!" Master Thalian said. The guard who stepped forward was two heads taller than Ariya, and she was helpless to stop him as he pulled up on the chain joining her wrists. Ariya's breasts bounced freely. Master Thalian grabbed one of them, twisting the nipple cruelly between his fat fingers. His other hand slid down her flat stomach and in between her legs. "You had best get used to this, because you will be feeling it any time his lordship wishes, and he will not suffer your disobedience as well as I." Her frustrated growl turned into a gasp as he felt the man spread her lips, sliding one thick finger along her entrance. He lowered his head to her breast and wrapped his fat lips around her other nipple. "Oh, our lord is going to enjoy you, little princess. Perhaps when he is bored with you he will send you to me." He pulled his finger out of her and ran it along her lips, still wet with her juices, "How I would love to feel these ruby lips around my cock." Ariya made to bite his finger, but he snatched it away too quickly. He looked up at the guard. "Take her to her chambers with the others. If she tries to resist you, chain her there."

The guard dragged her roughly through the halls, until Ariya was so lost she feared she would never find her way out again. People in the hallways stared at her naked form, though most of their garb was made of the same sheer fabric which left very little to imagination. At last they reached another set of doors, these not quite as ornate as the throne room, but made of the same light wood. Yet more guards stood watch at the entrance, but they opened the doors immediately as Ariya and the guard approached. The guard shoved her into the room and she tumbled forward, bracing for the sting of hard stone floors...But to her surprise, it was a soft, springy moss that broke her fall. The cool green felt amazing on her bare flesh, and smelled sweet and earthy. Ariya looked up and blinked in surprise.

The room was an exquisite grotto with a dome ceiling. The high, tall windows were open to the sky (although the smooth walls beneath them would be impossible to climb, she noticed). Colorful birds perched and sang from the windows, and flew down to perch on a grove of miniature willows which framed the side of a five-tiered water fountain that dominated the center of the room. All around the edges of the room were steps leading to small landings covered in pillows and bedding. Incense smoke filled the room with a light haze and a thick, sweet smell. And there were women! The enormous room was covered in women of more colors and shapes than Ariya knew existed among men. Hair the color of the sun, the color of fire, even hair the color of the sky, and shades of skin in every hue of cream, tan, and ebony. They lounged comfortably on pillows, or in the pools, most of them sky clad, but some of them wrapped in colorful sarongs. They all turned to look at the door, and stared curiously at Ariya. They watched as the guard picked her up and took her up some steps before dumping her, unceremoniously, onto a featherbed mattress that sat on the floor. She struggled, and tried to fight her way back to the door, and in the end she wound up chained to the wall behind the bed. The guard left, and she was alone with her new cell mates.

Ariya checked her surroundings again, and studied the new chains. They afforded her some freedom, at least, being long enough to take her to any edge of the circular landing, or the top of the stairs. She looked down at the ground six feet or so below her and saw a couple of the women staring up at her. They giggled and ran toward the fountain, chattering. The rest of the women had returned to their conversations, paying Ariya no more notice. Ariya sat down on the mattress. It was soft and comfortable, and she had misjudged how tired the long journey had made her. Before she knew it she was asleep.

Ariya's eyes fluttered open to the sounds of a man's voice nearby. It was night, and a soft light emanated from elegant torches along the walls, illuminating the enormous room in a magical glow. She stood from her bed and walked slowly to the edge of the landing, peering down toward the source of the sounds. What she saw made her sink to her knees, afraid she had been seen. She crawled to the edge again and peered over once more. A young woman, perhaps Ariya's own age of one-and-twenty, was sprawled out on a large rock. Between her legs and gripping her hips tightly was the most handsome man Ariya had ever seen. Sweat added a sheen to his evenly-muscled body and dripped from the wild brown hair that concealed his face. His skin would have been fair in another climate, he had the leathery look that came when fair skin spent time in the sun. The woman was pale as moonlight with thick blonde curls bouncing in time with her small, pert breasts as he slammed his thick rod savagely into her. Both sets of her pink lips were parted and glistened, only one emitted gasps and moans while the other made soft wet sounds that brought goosebumps to Ariya's flesh.

"My lord, she is awake." Ariya spun around to find a short, pale woman with short, dark blue hair standing at the top of the landing. The woman was wrapped in a silvery fabric that clung to her thin body. Ariya glanced back down at the two on the rock, only to see the man pull himself from the blonde woman's body. She uttered a soft cry of dismay, and followed him as he made his way to Ariya's steps.

"At last, my newest pet awakens." He said in Common as he reached the top. His sharp green eyes that pierced her gaze with a bold confidence.

"I am no mans pet. I am Ariya, Queen of the Ilmani tribe." The man chuckled, revealing stark white teeth behind his firm, dark lips.

"Master Thalian spoke truly to me, you are spirited. But with all due respect, my lady, you are chained, sky clad, to a wall of Lord Bael of Border Keep. Many of the others you see here began to serve me in the same way. Shiv, here, for one, was kept in chains for two weeks." He gestured to the blue haired woman who had alerted him when Ariya awoke, "Now she bends to my will, as the others do. Shiv, come here." The woman stepped in front of Lord Bale and kneeled.

"My lord." She said, bowing her head.

"Pleasure me," He ordered. Ariya blinked in disbelief as Shiv reached up and eased Lord Bael's softening manhood, still shiny with the blonde's juices, into her mouth. He hardened again quickly as she glided slowly along it's length. She moaned as he seized a handful of her short blue hair in each hand and guided her head along his shaft forcefully. Lord Bale's eyes were locked on Ariya. Ariya blushed at the woman's humiliation, and turned her head. She turned it back, though, as she heard a louder moan coming from the kneeling woman. The blonde had come around behind. She slid her hands underneath the silver fabric and began slowly kneading Shiv's breasts, her own pair pressed hard into Shiv's back. More women had gathered now, at the base of the steps to watch, but no one seemed horrified or embarrassed except Ariya. Shiv was pumping harder on him now, and Lord Bael was emitting low grunts of pleasure. After a few minutes he yanked back on Shiv's hair, just as a stream of hot, white cum shot from his head, showering the faces of both women. It was only then that he released the blue hair. "You two are messy. Clean up." He said to them. Without missing a beat, Shiv turned to face the blonde woman and they began tonguing the thick liquid from each others' faces eagerly. Sometimes, their tongues twirled together or their lips locked passionately as they slowly licked each other clean. One of the women came up the stairs with a towel, and wiped the sweat from her lord's forehead as he watched for a moment. Then he stepped around the two women and toward Ariya.

"Melee, Santha." He called. Two more women came up the landing. One was a thick, fiery, middle-aged red head with plump lips and large breasts, the other a young wiry blonde with short pixie hair and long, thin legs. Both were as naked as Ariya.

"My lord?" The red-head spoke in a low, sensuous voice.

"I would see what my new pet has to offer me. Have her presentable tomorrow." With that, he walked back to the steps, took the towel and wrapped it around his waist. The women parted for him as he made his way down the stairs and out the door.

The women at the base of the stairs scattered, leaving Ariya alone with Shiv, the two blondes, and the red-head. The red-head approached her and smiled. "I am Melee. Welcome to Border Keep Harem."

Ariya frowned at her, "I had mistaken this for the stables." She had meant it to be an insult, but the four women laughed.

"If only all horses lived in such comfort." Said the blonde who could only be Santha.

"Border Keep is famous for it's horses, but we are far more treasured to it's master." Said Melee.

"And far more satisfying too." Giggled the curly blonde.

"You would know, Eri." Commented the red-head.

"Slut!" The blonde gave her a resounding slap on the ass, but if she was truly offended you could not tell for her giggling. "I was born a peasant, true, but the prettiest peasant in the Green Lands, which is why his lordship finds warmth between my thighs so much more than yours. Besides, my family are bakers, not horsemasters."

"His lordship does not prefer my thighs because I serve him better in other ways. He knows I prefer softer flesh than his, and enjoys indulging me. Speaking of which, ladies, let us get to work." Melee turned to face Ariya once more. Her eyes scanned Ariya's still-naked body with great scrutiny, she felt self conscious under her gaze. "Mmm, magnificent. You won't take much work to look presentable," Melee said finally, "We will need to trim that bush between your legs, though, I think. Eri, ask the guard for a dagger, will you?" The blonde turned and rushed down the steps.

"You look frightened." Commented Santha gently.

"A queen is never frightened."

"Well, you look frightened to me." She reached out to touch Ariya's arm, but Ariya pulled away.

"Don't touch me!"

Santha stepped closer, speaking in soft, dulcet tones, "No one here will hurt you. We are like a family, and we look after one another." She reached out again and placed her hand on Ariya's shoulder. Her touch was gentle and warm, and Ariya felt goosebumps run down her arms, but did not pull away as Santha continued to soothe her with her kind voice. "You must get used to being touched, caressed. You must learn to be pleasured and to give pleasure back. We will teach you." She ran her hand across Ariya's shoulder and up her neck. Ariya felt herself shudder, and wrenched herself away, disturbed by her body's betrayal. Melee walked up behind Santha.

"She will fight us, won't she?" By her voice she didn't sound like she would mind, and there was a suspicious predatory look in her eyes that made Ariya nervous. Eri returned quickly with the dagger, and when Ariya saw it she backed away until she ran into the wall, eyes wide. Melee walked after her, the slow, stalking movements of a jungle cat.

"Santha, Shiv, spread her legs." Both women stepped forward, and Ariya made as if to resist, "It can be us, or the guards. Your choice." Ariya glanced at Santha, eyes full of uncertainty.

"She does not mean to harm you." Santha said, moving closer to her.

Shiv giggled, "Melee shaves most of us, she never cuts anyone. On accident, anyway."

Melee glared at her, but a smile crept across her face, "Quiet, you."

Eri looked at their charge. "Your name is Ariya, right?"

"Yes..." Ariya said. There was no harm in them knowing her name, she reasoned, most of them seemed nice enough. Better than the slavers or the guards, or the man that was to be her master. Still, the red-head made her awfully nervous...

"Ariya. I am Eri. It's nice to meet you. You really should let Melee do her work, my lord will not be pleased if you are not trimmed nicely for him, and he can be awfully rough when he is unhappy. Besides, the more you cooperate, the sooner you can get those chains off. You could come and bathe and eat at the tables with the other girls. Wouldn't that be nice?"

Ariya brightened. That's right! The chains. None of the others were wearing chains. If she could get her chains off, maybe she could find a way to escape... return to the desert and rebuild her tribe. It was resolved, then. She would try to cooperate. For now. But she vowed that she would not let that man touch her. She sank to the floor.


The Harem's Lessons Ch. 02



Lord Bael sat amidst a large pile of paperwork. It invaded the large oak desk of his study and covered the floor in disorganized piles. He sighed, a mix of exhaustion and annoyance. The reports were all the same. The Gadenites were cutting through Shadorian troops like a knife through butter. Villages were being sacked, castles and forts were falling all along the Eastern border. He would have to push even further into the desert to make homes for refugees. It bothered him less that he would be pushing more tribes from lands they had held for centuries, and more that he was being forced to fund two wars. The desert tribes were disorganized, but fierce. And half of his grain and food was being sent up the supply lines to feed troops in the East, while a steady stream of refugees that he could not afford to feed were pouring in. What to do...

He penned a quick letter to Captain Greynon, hoping his dear friend would still be alive to receive the orders. Another letter was sent to the leader of a nearby village authorizing more fields to be used for farming. It would stretch the land too thin, and farming wouldn't be as good next year, Lord Bael knew, and yet he had no choice. He picked up the thick wooden goblet taking up the only clear spot on his desk and eyed it for a moment. His riches were evident in the amount of wood in his castle. And yet he could not feed his people with all the wood in the world. Or the riches, for that matter, for food was in short supply all over Shadoria. He took a long draw from the goblet, having intended for it to be only a sip. The bitter wine nipped sharply at his tongue, and a warm relief slid down his throat. 

He stood reluctantly from his desk, knocking a few stray papers to the floor. He ignored them. Enough paperwork for one day, he thought, my people will starve with or without my signature. He handed the letters to a servant waiting outside his door and started down one of the cool sandstone hallways of Border Keep. 

Inside the keep, there was no sign of the hardship weighing on the country. Servants bustled about the hallways carrying fruits, goblets, fans, and a number of other ridiculous luxuries. It was their job to make the people of the keep comfortable, for Highborn people should never have to worry about food or comfort. Lord Bael pondered how they could allow themselves to be fooled by the illusion. He had watched the soups get thinner and thinner, tasted the watered down wine. The servants were doing their best, it was unnecessary to bring to their attention that he knew these things. But he wondered how long even they could keep up appearances. Things must improve, and soon.

Normally a brisk afternoon walk would have cheered the lord, but today he felt immune to the stunning beauty of his home. Hummingbirds flew merrily along flowering vines in sunny courtyards. The children of Highborn played with those of the servants in quiet fountains, or ran along the cloisters at some game with bright smiles on their small round faces. Servant girls fetched water from the fountains, splashes gluing the thin material to their curvy figures. 

Lord Bael found himself eying one of the girls, fabric clinging to her budding breasts, her pert nipples poking outward as if begging for freedom. If she was of childbearing age, it was just barely. Her face was plain and freckled, and her soft childish features had just begun to fade into the graceful curves of womanhood. She had the bright brown eyes of a doe. And though her hair could not seem to choose between blond or brown, it looked thick and soft, and hung to her waist. She wore a simple brown linen dress, a sign that she worked in the kitchens or somewhere where she was away from important guests. Such a simple little peasant girl, and yet Lord Bael found himself hardening as he watched her. 

She pulled a heavy water gourd from the fountain, balancing it easily on one shoulder, and started off toward the kitchens. Lord Bael thought for a moment, and then started down another hallway at a fast-paced walk. Before he knew it, he was dashing. Servants dove to get out of his way, and a few Highborn gave hasty bows as he passed. He almost laughed out loud, but he let the excitement carry him to the kitchens as though he floated on clouds.

The kitchens were usually full, but dinner was still a few hours off, so most of the servants were out fetching ingredients or cleaning up from the mid-day meal. A couple of cooks scrubbed with ardor at deep iron pots, and a boy was gathering up chickens for the slaughter. Two servants sat eating at a thick wooden table, chattering in a foreign tongue. The room froze as Lord Bael entered. 

"All of you, get out." He ordered. There was no questioning him. Within moments the room was empty. The silence of the usually bustling kitchen was eerie. Cookware sat lifeless on the counters, and the cook fires started to dwindle with no one tending them. The floor was littered in hay and flour, although lines through the dust told the story of many futile sweepings. Lord Bael walked to the large wooden table were the servants ate their meals. In their haste to leave, the two that had been eating had left their meal on the table- some hard bread and a few spoonfuls of jam. Lord Bael sat on one of the benches that lined the table, and waited.

The paths the servants walked to avoid the eyes of those above them in stature were long and inconvenient, but Lord Bael did not wait long. The gourd entered the room first, followed by the servant girl from the fountain, pushing the heavy door open with her shoulders and back. She hurried to one of the cook stoves and poured the water into a pot that was waiting. A frustrated sigh escaped her lips as she noticed the fire underneath going out, and she rushed to get wood from a nearby pile.

"My lady." Lord Bael watched her until he could no longer resist speaking. The whirled around with a short scream, wood flying everywhere. Her already large eyes widened in disbelief when she saw him, and she dropped to the floor.

"My... my lord, I'm so sorry, I didn't see you there." Lord Bael walked to her side, and put a hand on her back. She tried to shy away, but was already pressed to the floor. Lord Bael caressed her hair as he moved his hand to her head, and around to her chin. Her hair was as soft as he had hoped.

"What is your name?" He asked, pulling up on her chin to see her face.

"My name?" The terrified look on her face wasn't going anywhere.

"Do you see anyone else that I might be addressing?"

"No, no, my lord... Wren, Sir. Your servant's name is Wren."

"Wren... A lovely name. How old are you Wren?"

"I... I don't know, my lord. I was found wandering around my village, which had been burned by Gadenites when I was only a child." 

"A child? You look to be still a child now."

"No, I mean, yes, my Lord, I look it, but I am a woman, fully flowered. The cook says I am old enough to take a husband now, if one will have me."

"I see." He watched her face closely, watched as his silence made her uncomfortable.

"My lord, it is a pleasure to see you, but surely you are not here to talk with me. Please tell me how I may be of service."

"It would please me very much if you would sit with me." Lord Bael moved back to the bench at the table. Wren stood shyly, and stepped toward him slowly, cautiously. Her linen frock was still wet from the fountain, but now it was covered in the hay and flour from the floor. 

"I don't think the head cook would be pleased to see that you have made your clothing dirty." He said. She looked down, and let go of an adorable gasp, bringing a hand up to brush off the debris. Lord Bael stepped and intercepted the movement, his large hand wrapping easily around her thin wrist. She froze with fear as he slowly brought his other hand up and began to remove pieces of hay from the linen She shuddered at his touch.

"My lord..." He put a finger to her mouth.

"Shh," and went back to brushing hay off her shoulders, working his way down. He traced her collarbone, noticing that it was about the same thickness as his pointer finger. What a tiny creature she was, he thought that she might break under his touch. His hands slid down slowly until it rested on one of her tiny breasts. She gasped again, and tried to pull away, but his strength was far greater. With one hand he reached up and grabbed a handful of her straw-colored hair, firmly, but gently. His other hand wrapped around her waist, and in one fluid motion he lifted her up and set her on the table. 

"Please..." She said, "My lord, I am frightened..." He ignored her pleas, leaving his hand firmly gripped in her hair, he dipped a finger in the jelly on the table. He traced her lips with his finger, coating them in a thin layer. Then he stuck his finger into her mouth. She struggled, and nearly choked herself, so he pulled his finger out and grabbed her forcibly by the chin. 

"Shh," He coaxed again, bending down to lick some of the jelly from her lips, "You taste as sweet as you look..." He whispered, more to himself than to her. He brought his lips to hers again, this time kissing her gently. Her struggles ceased a little, but tears formed in her eyes. He wiped them away. "You have nothing to fear, if you do well I may send you to my harem, or give you to one of my men for a wife. But you must show me that you can be more than a kitchen girl. Do you understand?" Another tear dripped down her cheek, but she nodded. Lord Bael kissed her again, and this time she kissed him back. She was so young, so pure, and her inexperience excited the Lord of Border Keep even more. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and explored, then invited her tongue into his own mouth. He kissed her fiercely, with increasing passion, until uncontrollable need had built up inside him. 

The cloth that covered her tore easily, her smooth flesh freed at last from the confines of the linen prison. Her nipples were tiny, and a soft inviting brown. He pushed her down onto her back and moved his mouth over one of her pointy breasts. He cupped it it one hand, massaging it gently, feeling her squirm underneath him. His tongue flickered over her nipple like a snake's before his lips finally closed over it. Her back arched and she drew in a long breath. His other hand reach down to part her wiry legs and feel the soft hair between them.

But Lord Bael had no patience that day. He found wetness between her legs and the throbbing between his own became unbearable. He pulled her to the edge of the table, and unlaced his trousers. His manhood all but leapt from his pants, reaching for the pink folds before it. His hands locked around her waist and in one swift movement he thrust himself deep inside her. He felt the flesh tear and she cried out in pain. But the urge to move inside her was more than he could take, and he had no forbearance to wait for her to get used to him. His strokes were long, and powerful, and her cries continued. He pulled her body onto his shaft, buried as deep as it would go, feeling the exquisite tightness of her, the untouched perfection. Tears streamed down her face, but her cries had turned to moans and he no longer knew if they were from pain or pleasure. His motions were shorter now, fast and furious, his pelvis pounding on the soft flesh of her thighs. Then in an instant, Wren's face was hers... It was the Desert Queen beneath him, crying out, eyes begging him not to stop. He felt the pressure building up inside of him, but held back. He withdrew himself. He felt anger well up inside of him.

Wren looked curiously at him, fear had almost completely gone from her face, but now it returned. He forced her over onto her side, and then face-down on the table. He climbed onto the table behind her and lifted her hips until she was on her knees. He could see the sides of her hips where his fingers had dug into her flesh, and he grasped her again, driving himself into her from behind. She cried out again, although this time the sound of pleasure was unmistakable. Fervor renewed by her cry, and by his frustration, he pounded her even harder than before, watching with greedy hunger as he disappeared inside her, only to reappear again. Inside, she squeezed around him, making her already tight hole even tighter. This time, as the pressure built up he knew there would be no controlling it. As his pleasure sailed to it's peak and his seed poured out inside her, she moaned loudly with intense passion, prolonging the sensation along his spasming rod.

Slowly, his heart beat returned to normal. He withdrew from her, strings of the thick sticky liquid trailing from his softening cock. He laced his trousers and started to the door. Then he turned to look at his conquest. She was gathering the rags that were her clothing up from the floor.

"I will send for you." He said, and with that, he left.





The Harem's Lessons Ch. 03



The heat was searing, even in the shady courtyard. Ariya pulled her wide-brimmed hat over her face to keep the sun off, but it provided little relief. When Lord Bael had first told her of her mission, she had relished the idea of returning to her homelands, but now she found herself delaying her departure from the protective confines of Border Keep.



"My people need you, and so do yours," He had begun, "I cannot continue to fight a war on two fronts. Refugees are an unrelenting plague on my coffers, but also on your people. When the war ends, they can all return home, but who knows when that will be. A few weeks ago, I sent word to three tribal leaders that an emissary would meet with them to negotiate a treaty." She could not hide the shock.

"You desire peace?"

"Truth is, fighting the tribes is more expensive than fighting the Gadenites. We would wipe them out in time, make no mistake, but their guerrilla tactics and ability to survive in the harsh climate make them difficult enemies despite their dwindling numbers. I offer them peace in return for temporarily sharing their lands with the Shadorian refugees."

"Surely you do not think they will agree to that."

"No, surely I do not. Not if you are any example of the spirit of your people. But it is what is best for them. Please don't misunderstand, I do not expect you to succeed in convincing them to enter into a peace agreement with me, but you are the only one with any hope."

"Me... You want me to go?"

"Who else would I send?" Ariya's eyes drifted to the stranger next to Lord Bael. Lord Bael caught her gaze and smiled, "Captain Greynon here deals in a different type of persuasion. I am sending him as your escort and protector. No, Ariya, you are one of their kind, once a Queen of a tribe yourself. If anyone has a chance, it is you."

"He is to see that I don't run off."

Lord Bael smiled, "Don't presume that I need to send my best man with you to keep you from escaping.  My greenest guards would serve that purpose well enough. If you truly care for the lives of your people, you will not try to run."

He had her. It was true. Because it was in her nature, she refused him that day. He did not seem surprised. Three days later, however, she changed her mind. 

Two weeks was all the time they had to prepare. Not that preparations would have been difficult, except that the rest of the keep was in a state of chaos over the impending arrival of the famous Shadorian General Tsogai. Ariya was grateful that she would be missing his visit. The women of the harem had been fitted for dresses and a dancing instructor had arrived from the Shadorian capital to prepare an awful flashy welcoming dance. They had been practicing four hours a day for a week. Ridiculous. 

Saying farewell to her sisters had been difficult, far more so than Ariya could ever have imagined. Lord Bael had allowed her to pick only one to take on her journey. "To attend you," he had told her, although she knew it was to keep her from getting lonely and secretly she was grateful. Against her every wish, and after deep consideration, she chose Santha. She would miss her friendship with Shiv, and the touch of Eri, but she would need Santha's patient wisdom in the weeks to come. Even as delicate as she was, Ariya still believed she would fare better in the desert than her more fragile sisters.

Currently, Santha was directing several of the luggage servants and helping to make sure everything was safely packed aboard the slods. Standing nearly eight feet tall, and twenty feet in length, slods were enormous flat slug-like creatures native to the desert. Probably the only docile creatures in the region, they rippled gracefully across the sand with surprising speed. They were gentle, extremely intelligent, required little in the way of food (they could go months without it, and weeks without water), and they had the strength of six horses combined. There were only two detractions from their perfection as pack animals and mounts, their two greatest defensive tools against their harsh native climate. The first was that they burrowed underground every day at dusk, to avoid freezing during the cold desert night. This limited travel to the daytime only. The other, was that to keep from drying out, they excreted a thick gooey fluid from large pores, and it smelled. Badly. Santha had looked positively green the first time she had seen the slods that would be their transportation, but Ariya assured her that she would adjust to the smell. Already her harem sister had her mind on the practical, and was climbing up the side of one of the slods to give the tie downs one last tug. 

"My lady, it is time to go." The man who spoke to her was Kir, Captain Greynon's right-hand man, a large graying soldier in his fifties who had seen many battles in many nations. Ariya had grown quite fond of him in the past weeks, he served as messenger for Captain Greynon himself, who had been too busy to help much with preparations. His face was wrinkled and leathery, but his teeth were white as pearls and used for frequent gentle smiles. Though his hair was silver, he had a full head of it. Conversations with him came easily, and Ariya would have chosen for him to stay by her side the entire trip. Unfortunately that job went to a man that she was much less comfortable with. Captain Greynon himself was a man of few words, his eyes looked right through everything they saw, calculating and intelligent. He made Ariya very nervous. Kir would run the operations of the camp and lead the convoy, Ariya had a feeling she would miss him during the long days of travel. 

"Very well." Kir escorted her to the slod that would be her mount. Santha was fortunate enough to have a baby slod for a mount, they were much smaller and rode more like horses. Ariya had to ride in state on the back of one of the giant adults. Seems they have simply reduced the size of my prison Ariya climbed the rope ladder and into the large wicker palanquin on the slod's back. Inside the dome was a circular couch and lots of pillows. The top was covered to provide shade, but the rest of the dome was open and gave a nice 360 degree view of the surroundings. Ariya made herself comfortable on the couch. It would be a bumpy ride. 

She opened her small pack. Inside was her days rations, so that she could eat at her leisure, a scroll and parchment for the treaty, and several books- gifts from Merrin, the beloved old librarian. The books were easy, and if she read them slowly she could figure out what they said. It would take her months to get through all of them, and she hoped she would not be away long enough to do so. 

The train of slods began it's departure, twenty adult slods to carry tents, food, and of course the envoy herself, and almost fifty baby slods who followed their parents obediently, carrying guards and servants. Ariya looked for Captain Greynon, but didn't see him. Santha rode a slod behind her, and waved cheerily when their eyes met.

They reached the gates to Border Keep when she spotted him. He was speaking with Lord Bael on a tall platform. He turned to face the slod train and pulled out a small shiny object. It was a whistle. It's noise was shrill, and loud for such a tiny object.

With a start, Ariya felt the slod pick up pace beneath her and almost fell off the couch. Her slod raced up to the platform, and Lord Bael reached out to help Ariya up next to him. 

"We are ready to make way." Captain Greynon said. Lord Bael clasped his forearm.

"Be safe, my friend, and may the Gods aide you in your quest." Then Lord Bael turned to Ariya, "My lady, I hope you find your travel arrangements as comfortable as possible. I am sorry to put you in this danger."

"You are mistaken, my lord, I am going home, there is no danger there."

"I pray you are right. Until we meet again." 

Captain Greynon helped Ariya back onto the slod before climbing into the dome after her. Another sound from his whistle and the slod returned to it's place in line. 

Ariya could hear shouts from the front of the train and the slods began to move again. Before she knew it, they were out of the gates and into the vast expanse of desert, Border Keep a tiny speck on the horizon behind them.

***



Lord Bael watched the convoy as it vanished into the distance. He felt strangely uneasy, but hoped that it was just paranoia. He ordered the gates closed and returned to the inner keep. He had other things to worry about, that was why he had sent Cayn Greynon. Ariya had accepted the mission, so Lord Bael had to believe the hardest part of the mission was already a success. He grinned and shook his head. Those tribal leaders didn't know what they were in for.

No doubt the uneasiness Lord Bael was feeling was due to General Tsogai's visit. Only a couple of days left to prepare. The General was touring the Shadorian provinces to raise morale. That was what the letter had said anyway, it didn't take a brilliant tactician to realize that he was checking to see who was still loyal to Shadoria. Rumor had it, however, that the General was rewarding loyalty with wagons of food. It was worth putting forth the effort to impress. The last thing Lord Bael needed was to be considered luke-warm in his affections for the crown, and General Tsogai was a direct representation of the royal family.

The Great Hall was filled with the women from his harem. They were dressed in vibrant colors, thin and revealing, but not too revealing. Designed to tease, to hint, to tempt. The dance they practiced was fast-paced and energetic, and by the sweat dripping from their bodies, Lord Bael guessed that the instructor had been drilling them for quite some time. 

Laneeah would have been an ideal addition to Lord Bael's harem were she not a married woman. It had cost a small fortune to bring her from the capital to help with the welcoming ceremonies, but it was well worth it. The girls had spent the first couple of days tripping over their feet, but now they were dancing as though they had been doing it all of their lives. Laneeah saw him enter and waved at the girls to continue the dance. She approached him, giving a formal bow.

"I hope that my Lord is pleased with their progress."

"I am indeed, Laneeah. You expertise is evident in their skill."

"You are kind to praise me. What brings you here, my lord? Do I need to excuse one of these women?"

Lord Bael laughed, "I am content to watch them dance for now, just don't wear them out too much."
"Their energy is low today."

"They are sad, two of their sisters left this morning, and it may be a long time before they come back."

"They are a very close group. I fear for my life every time I give criticism to one of them, the red-head looks as though she might tear me apart." Lord Bael smiled and looked at Melee. She wasn't much of a dancer, she seemed to have an awkward time moving about quickly with her large tits. No man who watched her would care, though. 

Lord Bael excused himself and moved to watch the dance from a large couch facing the make-shift stage. He hoped that everything would go well.

***

The sun was setting Ariya stared out into the vast nothingness of her homelands. The sky lit up in brilliant reds and oranges, making it look as though the desert was on fire. Yet a blanket of deep purple was spreading from the East that would soon cover the sands in a cool embrace. There was a peace here, a quiet that did not exist back at the Keep. They had reached the oasis by late afternoon with plenty of time to have the slods cleared by nightfall. Once the various tents had been pitched, the servants began to prepare fires for dinner. Now that the sun was setting they could light them, and food would be along shortly. Even the noise of the camp could not compete with the stillness of the desert. It was as if the land itself did not wish to exist in a moment, but instead a painting that would last forever. The time lingered here, lazy, making this one day of travel seem like a week, yet as you were caught up in the spirit of the desert you did not feel troubled by this. There was no hurry, no rush, time simply did it's best to stand still. 

Santha wrapped a cloak around Ariya's shoulders, startling her from her deep thought. "I'm sorry, Ariya. I didn't want you to get cold when the sun sets," she said with a smile before disappearing back into the large tent that the two women shared with a handful of their servants. 

The temperature was indeed dropping, and the slods had burrowed into the sand for the night. Most people gathered around the fires, chatting comfortably as they waited for dinner to be served. The soldiers drank wine and laughed, exchanging tales of women and war. As much as they sounded like they had enjoyed the war, Ariya did not sense a bitterness in them for being taken away from it. Kir said that Captain Greynon's men were fiercely loyal and would obey his commands happily whether they were to fight glorious battles, or clean stables.

Captain Greynon had not said two words to her the entire day of traveling. He had simply sat on the edge of their dome, legs hanging over the side of the slod, careless of the slod sweat that would no doubt stick to his pants for days. Ariya had spent most of the day reading or napping, but did her best to keep busy. Then as soon as they had reached their first campsite, he had disappeared. Perhaps tomorrow she would ask Santha to ride with her so she could have some real company. 

She decided to wander the oasis for a bit, happy to be able to stretch her legs. She followed the stream that ran through camp. Her instincts told her that it probably gathered nearby in a pool. The heat of the day would have heated the water and now that the sun had set it would be pleasant for soaking. She ran her her hands on the rough bark of a palm tree, one of many that lined the stream. When she was a child, she was always amazed that trees could survive in such great numbers with so little water to support them. They must share it with each other, or they would all die and there would be no more palm trees left to continue their line. Her grandmother had always told her that the tribes were like palm trees around an oasis. They provided each other with shade, shared water, and because of their cooperation their kind could flourish.

Her feet were bare, and she squished the sand beneath her toes as she walked. The sand was wet from the stream, and she loved the feel of it beneath her feet. It was getting dark quickly, but the stars and the moon shone brightly enough to light her way. She looked at the camp behind her, but she didn't see anyone following her. It was nice to taste freedom for the first time in many months... The entire desert opened up before her with it's infinite possibilities. 

You are fooling yourself, Ariya she thought to herself, you know you must return to the camp eventually. Your days of wandering and freedom are over. The tribes roamed the desert with the wind, traveling wherever they pleased. But I am no longer one of them. I am the envoy of Lord Bael of Border Keep sent to deliver a message of peace to the tribal leaders. Once she might have been among the ones she was going to meet, but then that was the very reason why Lord Bael had asked her to go.

The stream led her down a rocky dune, and she could hear that she was nearing the pond where that was it's end. She made her way down between the rocks. SNAP! Ariya froze as she heard the reed snap. Something was moving around in the pool. There was a soft splashing noise. Raiders from one of the tribes...? No, too close to the keep. There was little danger of running into them for several days. An animal, perhaps? Some creature wandered down from the mountains? Or perhaps it was a servant or soldier, here for a bath.

As a woman of the Ilmani tribe, Ariya was one with the desert, and knew how to move silently on her own lands. She crept slowly around the corner until she could see the source of the noise. 

In the center of the pool was a man, naked, body glistening in the moonlight. His muscles tensed as he washed himself, each movement as fine-tuned as a bird of prey's. His entire body was as ravaged as his face by battle scars, but there was strength and virility in his obvious ability to survive. His hair, which had been in his face all day, was slicked back and wet, allowing her to see the sharp lines of his profile against the night sky. She had to be, perhaps, seven paces from Captain Cayn Greynon.

She felt that, given her luck, what she saw should not have surprised her, but she stumbled backward and tripped. She felt sharp rocks bite into her soft skin and heard several reeds snap beneath her feet. She did not dare to move, but waited for him to come around the corner and to investigate the noise. When he did not come she stood up and peaked around the corner of the rock. Captain Greynon was gone. 

Ariya was very disconcerted. She turned to return to camp. Suddenly there was a rough hand around her neck and one of her wrists. She grunted as she was slammed forcefully into a large rock and held there, feet dangling, by her throat. Her hands went for her attacker, preparing to fight for her life. She felt her knuckles connect with skin and looked to see what she had hit.  

He met her gaze with eyes of blue fire that seemed to blaze even in the darkness. Then, in a moment of recognition, his eyes softened a little. He lowered her slowly to the ground. Once again she found herself captured by his stare, she could not pull her eyes away.  

"F-forgive me... I..." Ariya stuttered helplessly. Captain Greynon lifted his hand from her throat to her chin and moved his face in close to hers. Ariya's breath caught in her throat.

He turned her head with his hand and examined her neck, "Are you hurt, my lady?"

"No..." He released her.

"I will return you to camp." He turned back to the spring and found his clothing in a pile. Ariya waited for him to get dressed and then followed him back to camp, thankful that in the darkness he could not see the flush in her face.



They were the last words he spoke to her for many days. 

***  



"General Tsogai, it is my honor to welcome you to Border Keep." Lord Bael bowed before the General, who returned his bow, equally low. He was an imposing figure, although not quite so large as Cayn, he stood proud and tall with a long gray beard, bald head, and harsh wrinkled features. His stomach showed that he had not fought a battle in some time, for he was starting to become quite pudgy. 

"Thank you, Lord Bael, for allowing my troops to find shelter in the shade of your great keep, and for being such a gracious host. The crown is pleased to have such good friends."

"We are pleased to have such brilliant rulers. May Shadoria prosper under their reign." Ugh, the formalities stuck in Lord Bael's throat like a rotten fruit. It was all he could do to spit them out, "but please, come out of the sun. We have prepared festivities in honor of your visit. Won't you share our wine and break bread with us?"

"My lord is very kind, it would be our great honor to do so." 

Whew, that's done, Lord Bael left the servants to attend to the General's affairs, and led the man and several of his high ranking officers into the Great Hall.

The Hall was decorated in colorful flowers, and littered with the Highborn people of the keep. They were like leeches, all too hungry for the attention of powerful men like the General. Lord Bael didn't envy Tsogai once they got a hold of him. He led the General to a row of chairs seated in front of the make-shift stage. 

"Perhaps the General would enjoy some entertainment? The women of my harem are waiting to dance for you."

"My lord's harem is legendary, rumored to have all of the most beautiful women in the kingdom. You are a lucky man. I am lucky too, that they would want to dance for me."




The Harem's Lessons Ch. 04



The fever had lasted two days. The wounds on the harem woman's back had turned bright red with infection, and Cayn had been forced to use much of their limited water supply to clean them. Having spent so much of his life in the field, bandaging her wounds with the tattered remains of her clothing was second nature to him. His own tunic was all he had to clothe her, which would have made him grateful for the warmth of his cloak had he not needed it to keep her from freezing to death during the cold desert nights. Still, he was an officer of the Desert Lord's army, and he had braved worse conditions than this. 

Cayn found himself silently thanking the raiders on more than one occasion, as the supplies in the shelter, no doubt stolen, were all that had kept them alive. There was food, water, and a few nights supply of firewood. The small cave held the warmth of a fire fairly well, and protected them from the wind. None the less, he had to wonder how many Shadorian soldiers in how many supply lines had died so that this hideout could be so well-stocked. The words of the old sword master who had taught him as a child echoed through his brain, It is a soldier's place to die so that others may live.

It was the third day when the sandstorm began, and the horse had to join them inside the cave. The beast required such upkeep that, had Cayn been by himself, he would have slaughtered it for it's meat. However, traveling the desert would have been slow, even if the lady had not been wounded. Under present circumstances Cayn dared not give up their mount. Ah well, at least the sandstorm will take care of what the vultures did not, Cayn thought of the three corpses he had stacked several hundred yards outside of the cave. Cayn had seen people do terrible things in the war, but he had never been so happy to dispose of human remains.

The wind howled outside the cave and Cayn surmised by the diminishing light from the entrance of their shelter and the rapidly dropping temperature that night was approaching. He threw another log onto smoldering embers and breathed some life back into the fire. Then he sat back, allowing the warmth to penetrate his bare chest, and thought. 

The woman's fever had long-since broken, but still she did not wake. Cayn had more than enough time to think. Sometimes, he planned how they would leave, other times his thoughts drifted to the past. 

Ariya... If Cayn was good at one thing, it was listening. And her name had been in his ears so often lately that he could scarcely get it out. Her refusal of Bael was something of a legend around the kingdom. The harem had always generated rumor and controversy that delighted the Highborn and common people alike. Never before had such a story excited them so, for no woman had ever been able to resist Lord Bael's charms. Not Princesses, barmaids, or anyone in between. 

"Brother, this woman is driving me mad." Cayn had listened the day that Bael had propositioned his harem woman to journey across the desert. His lord had been flawlessly calm in his request, but the moment she had left the room, he fell to pieces, "She is beautiful beyond words, fierce as the desert sun, and yet I cannot make her want me."

"She is a woman of your harem, what she wants does not matter." Cayn had answered flatly.

"You don't understand, brother, I cannot take her that way... I almost did once... and how I wanted to... I could have, and yet, now I know that to simply have her would not be enough. I want her to desire me, as I desire her." Bael growled in frustration, "But she cannot stand me, Cayn, and her refusal only makes me want her more. No woman has ever made me feel this way before. So angry, so tormented, and yet so excited."

Cayn had not known what to say, so he he did what he felt best in such situations and said nothing. His brother had continued on lamenting until he fell hoarse and went to find some wine, and most likely some unfortunate servant girl to serve it to him.

The sound of Ariya stirring brought Cayn out of his head. She was whimpering and tossing restlessly. He knelt by her, is she having a nightmare? I don't know what to do... 

His mind went to all of the men he had seen die during the war. He thought of the tears that streamed down their faces, mixing with blood and sweat, and he thought of the way each one had gripped his hand, as if trying to cling to this world. Or perhaps they just needed human contact. A light in the darkness, to guide their way to the next place. Cayn found her hand, and gave it a light squeeze. To his surprise, she quieted, and fell into a calm and peaceful sleep once more. He brushed a stray strand of hair from her face and studied her for a moment. 

He had never seen Bael so torn up over a pair of breasts before. But then, no woman had ever refused to spread her legs for him. We seem to desire most that which we cannot have, he mused. 

If his brother had been the only one talking about her, he would not have been irritated, but soon Cayn's men were speaking of her as well. "I'll bet I could bed her," he heard as he walked through the tents of soldiers, "She would take one look at my dick and beg for me to stick it in her."

"The problem with that is that she would have to be able to find it first. Now, me, on the other hand, I'd show her who is in charge. Can't let a woman have too much freedom, that's his lordship's problem. I'd bend her right over and take what I wanted."

It did not stop with the soldiers. It seemed every man in Border Keep wanted between her thighs, and every woman wanted to be her. Cayn had hoped that he could avoid her by sending Kir in his stead to help her with preparations for their journey, but to no avail. 

Still, his duty was foremost in his mind as they set off into the desert. He had promised Lord Bael that he would keep her safe, and that he would do everything he could to ensure the success of their mission. Someone would have to stay on the slod to guard her, and Cayn did not trust anyone else not to be tempted by her.

Cayn found that once in her presence, irritation had quickly given way to curiosity. What was it about her that seemed to attract so much attention? Her beauty was undeniable, but then there were many beautiful women in the world. So Cayn did what he did best, he listened, and he watched. 

At first observation seemed to confirm his suspicions, that this woman was nothing particularly special. The first time he doubted this was the night she had happened upon him bathing at the oasis. When he grabbed her, her first instinct had been to fight. There was something wild about the look in her eyes that night, something that Cayn had only seen in spirited horses and the caged beasts he'd seen at festivals. Their eyes said that they would never be tamed, and that they would fight for freedom as long as their was breath in their bodies. This woman was more than a wild animal, though, for she had a mind that did not stop working. She was disciplined and dedicated to her studies, something that Cayn could appreciate. When she was not reading she seemed deep in thought, her eyes were never blank or empty. Her depth of feeling was fascinating, she could go from being completely frustrated to smiling in a matter of seconds without being superficial about either, and with complete commitment to each. 

As they began to speak, Cayn discovered that she was not so different from him. She felt a strong loyalty to her people, and thought only of freeing them from the binds of war and oppression. He had grown fond of her these past few weeks. When he saw the raiders riding off with her, all sense of duty had fled him. That which drove him to kill an unlucky raider and take his horse, to track her captors to this cave and slay them, to tend her wounds and care for her... was not duty to his brother, but concern for her. It frightened him.

Cayn shook his head to wake himself. He had been so lost in his thoughts that he had not seen the light of dawn creeping into the cave. The wind had died down some, and Cayn thought he saw horizon in the distance. I must have fallen asleep, he thought. The horse whinnied from where it stood in the corner of the cave. "Very well, breakfast for all of us." Cayn said, and moved to stand. It was only then that he noticed that his hand still held hers.