Arabian Nights

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Former princess can’t help but give in to new Sultan.
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Content Warning: This story includes elements of mind control and dubiously consensual non-consent.



Enjoy your kink responsibly.

Far away in an isolated region between the sand-swept oasis of the desert and the raging seas of Neptune, the kingdom of Tag'raveel is under the rule of a new ruthless Sultan, admired for his passion for the land, but feared for his short temper and aggressive military tactics. He was an intimidating man with piercing eyes and a long black beard protruding like a rapier from his chin.

He addressed his subjects for the first time, his robe and turban ensemble a brilliant combination of reds, golds, and blacks. He turned for his wife to join him on the balcony, his cape billowing behind him like smoke. Janai stepped forward, emerging from the cherry-red glow created by the red-glassed lanterns filling the room behind her to join her new husband for the first time. She agreed to marry him out of self-preservation and to keep her father and younger brother safe.

Her hair was braided and loose at the base, while a gold head pendant with an emblem of the Tag'raveel Sultan held it all in place at her forehead. She wore a dark red tube type top bordered with elaborate gold trim and beads down the bodice that left the bottom of her tummy bare. Her soft harem pants cascaded down her legs in plush, spirited waves.

Tag'raveel looked beautiful from the palace balcony, Janai watched the last remnants of harbor workers chain up their ships before joining the rest of the city in the courtyard. The serenity of the sails blowing in the wind completely contrasting with the bustling life below. Traders, musicians, and street performers kept the people entertained and fed as they showed their loyalty to the throne.

A warm breeze blew, carrying with it the scent of fresh bouquets and pastries as Janai blew kisses of affection and waved to the people below. She closed her eyes, letting the wind caress her face as her subjects' shouts and praises peppered the air. The Sultan and his wife turned and disappeared into the red glow. Janai despised what Karim had done with the royal bedroom; the grotesque display of wealth seemed desperate.

Karim walked towards the bed, not at all concerned that he was giving the princess his back, and made himself comfortable on the yellow-silk cushions. He reclined back, situating himself along the edge of the bed, his signature sneer plastered across his face.

Janai approached the bed, her head instinctively lowered.

"Oh, no you don't," he chided, putting his finger under her chin and forcing her eyes to meet his. "You keep your eyes on me at all times."

The wince in her expression was blatant, and he held out his other hand. "Maybe you need some... persuasion..." he hissed as a golden snake staff materialised in his fingers. He raised his hand, his clutch so tight that Janai almost felt sorry for the inanimate snake that he strangled. But before she knew it she'd locked eyes with the ruby eyes of the golden snake, and she heard a humming sound.

It was initially quiet, building up slowly as her almond eyes spiralled under the sorcerer's magic. The humming continued, growing louder and louder. It anaesthetised first her speech, then her resistance until her body was awash with unfamiliar feelings --a gentle heat rising warm in her veins.

Her mind was not wholly gone; she knew that it was his magic, and still, she couldn't help but yield to the strange sensation. The humming went on, driving her crazy, egging her on. The next thing she knew, her face was hovering over Karim's, dangerously close to his soft lips.

Karim tilted his head, a wicked smile on his lips as she ran the back of her finger down his cheek.  He focused on her ruby lips as they parted but could still see her chest heaving up and down as they kissed. He expected the gentle caress of a lover's kiss, but was greeted by the hunger of a young woman in the throes of uncontrollable passion. The wetness of her silky tongue slid in to meet his, flicking and sucking as she cradled his face and clawed at the skin behind his ears.

She rained a flurry of kisses across his face. Her boundless desire grew with every peck, until she was pulling at his clothes and whispering, almost in sobs between the kisses, "Take me, Karim. Now, do it now. Fuck me."

This wasn't the innocent princess that the townspeople knew of before. This insatiable mistress was unrecognisable as she pushed him back onto the bed and stepped back. Peeling off her clothing with the smooth fluidity of a dancer, her earrings clinking as she swayed her generous hips. Her clothes fell to her feet, one by one revealing another curve to be exposed to his lustful eyes.

Her smooth brown skin had no flaws, and he stiffened more as he watched the soft flesh of her breasts filling out into the rippled contours of her stomach and, finally, her sex. His staff clattered to the floor at the sight of her beautiful flower. The honeyed petals peeking out called to him, but before he could even make a move to answer, she had his pants on the floor and straddled his groin.

Their bodies slapped together as she took him excitedly, grinding with increasingly more speed and depth. She tipped her head back to the gold-bronze ceiling above her and bit her lip hard enough to cause slight cuts, blood rushing to the surface.

She was like a woman possessed, digging and digging, demanding harder, and faster. Her nails pierced the skin on his chest as the swell of pleasure doubled, tripled, quadrupled, threatening to burst. It felt like love's first sex as she rode her dear Sultan to the edge of oblivion, ecstasy sizzled through her and she faded to black, collapsing from the pleasure. 

A while later, Janai lay draped over Karim's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"You're not as scary as I thought you'd be," she murmured, tracing a finger through the curls down the middle of his chest. Karim couldn't hide his gleeful smile as he as but waved her defiance goodbye as it ebbed into the distance on a sea of obedient lust.

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