Escape From the Harem


"Your husband," Mary said, suddenly concerned.

"Don't worry," said Amal. You'll enjoy him, and I'll be right there." She kissed Mary again.

Chapter 10.

Artemis hurried back to her room through the narrow halls of the harem. She had taken her shoes off and was careful not to make noise. She prayed that no one would catch her out of her room. Niyaz had proved insatiable. Artemis had stayed far too long. It had been wonderful, but the consequences for a lesbian tryst in the harem were severe. Even roaming the halls this late was cause for suspicion. The Valide Sultana hated perversions and would subject women caught in the act to degrading punishments.

Even so Artemis could not help but replay the encounter her mind. Niyaz had dressed in her finest, a sheer violet dress. She hadn't bothered with foundation garments, and Artemis could see the dark outline of her puffy nipples through the material. Niyaz had made coffee and served it in tiny white cups with gold filigree. The two women had chatted amicably for some time as though this had been a purely social visit. Niyaz drove the conversation towards racier subjects until Artemis began to feel warm. The stories of the Sultan's proclivities and the description of his organ made Artemis tingle in her nether regions. Niyaz began moving closer until they were touching and then she began to compliment Artemis. She stroked Artemis's hair and told her how wonderful she was, how beautiful and how she had thought of her all day.

Artemis was overwhelmed by the attention and before she quite realized what she was doing kissed Niyaz with open mouth. Her hands roamed across Niyaz's body and Artemis had reveled in the soft touch of her breasts; but what had seemed to excite Niyaz most was when Artemis ran her hands across the woman's taught, muscular ass.

In a moment their clothes lay on the floor in a heap. Niyaz's body was amazing. She was tall and athletic. Her breasts stood out proud and high. They were topped with nipples the color of chocolate and they jutted out in excitement. Like all the sultan's favorites she had depilated making her cunt plan and exposed.

Artemis was about to reach for that glistening prize but Niyaz had gently taken her hand and told her to wait. There was something Artemis must do first, and Niyaz produced short braided whip for a horse. She had smiled at Artemis as she handed to her and then knelt down on her hands and knees on the cold tile floor. Her shapely bottom was exposed, and she wiggled it in anticipation.

Artemis wasn't sure what to do next and she gave a few tentative strokes.

"Not like that," said Niyaz, "Hard, I need to be punished.

Artemis decided to play along and hit Niyaz as hard as she could.

"Yes," breathed Niyaz, Artemis continued to swat her bottom. "Oh," Niyaz moaned, "Tell me I'm a bad girl; tell me I'm a stupid whore."

Artemis was caught up in the moment, "You bitch, you stupid little slut, this is what you deserve."

"Yes, master," she cried out.

"I hope this teaches you a lesson you dumb whore."

"Master, please," she whined. She stood up and practically threw Artemis on the yellow silk divan then stuck her head between Artemis's legs and devoured her womanhood.

Artemis was overwhelmed by the assault and quickly rose in a delirious sea of orgasms. Niyaz had no intention of stopping but she did scoot around so that her own pussy was only inches from Artemis's face. Inspired by Niyaz, Artemis started to devour her as well, matching Niyaz's licks stroke for stroke until they were both riding wave upon wave of climax. They had gone on like this well into the night.

No one had caught her in the hall. She snuck back to her room, opened her door quickly and rushed in relieved to be safe. Her relief quickly turned to shock as she found a blonde woman lying on the second pallet. Artemis's cell was not luxurious; there was little more than two pallets a chest of drawer and a vanity. She had shared the room with another odalisque for years, but then a miracle had happened. That odalisque had gotten married to a man outside of the harem. Nothing like that had ever happened in the history of the harem. Since then Artemis had her own room as the Sultan's new wife had decreed no more concubines. Artemis realized the Sulatn must have snuck a new one in.

"Pardon me but are you Russian, miss?" asked Artemis.

The woman turned to face Artemis. Her hair was disheveled. It was obvious she had been crying; but she had wonderful blue eyes.

"English," she replied.

"I am so sorry, but with the blonde hair I thought..." Artemis stammered.

"It's okay," the woman reassured her, "I'm Jenny."

"My name is Artemis," she said and curtsied.

"You're Greek then;" said Jenny switching into Artemis's native language, "Are you from an island?"

"Yes, I am from Mykonos."

"I've been to Mykonos. Cecil and I passed by there once. I remembered the glistening white city. It was like a magical kingdom. I adored all the blue and white pottery."

Such a strange woman for this place, thought Artemis. Normally women new to the harem were quite young and inexperienced. "I am sorry, Miss, but who is Cecil?" asked Artemis.

"My fiancé," replied Jenny, "Or he was; he died trying to save me from pirates." She looked as though she was about to cry again.

"Please do not cry. If you are here then the Sultan must have designs for you," said Artemis hoping to cheer Jenny up, but that didn't seem to work.

"I bet he does," she said bitterly.

"Please, do not be harsh, the Sultan is very generous with his favorites," said Artemis. "He gives them jewels, clothing and apartments; much nicer than this one." She began to feel glum again looking at her small cell. Perhaps the new girl would become a concubine right away; for it was quite cramped. "I must admit that I am a bit jealous of you."

"Don't be. I don't want to be the Sultan's plaything."

Artemis sighed, "I do. I do more than anything in the world. What else there? If I went home all the women would call me a whore and I'd have to live as a prostitute. That is how things are in Greece. Tell me, are things different in England?"

"We cover up scandals and pretend they didn't happen. It's the English way."

"That sounds better, the English are a wiser race than we are," said Artemis. She paused for a second. "Excuse me miss, you are blonde."

"Yes, it's not unusual in my country. Many English women are. My mother was blonde and my father is quite fair."

"What I meant was that the Valide Sultana, she is the Sultan's mother, does not like blondes."

"I doubt I'll be the first concubine to have trouble with her master's mother."

"I should not doubt that either, but the Valide Sultana rules the harem," explained Artemis. "Whatever she says..."

As if from a cue the door flew open and a middle aged woman strode in. She was tall and proud with black hair streaked with grey peaking out of her black veil. Artemis Immediately fell to her knees. "Sultana," she said.

"Get up, Artemis," the Valide Sultana said sharply. "I heard that you were not in this room when this thing," she waved at Jenny, "Was delivered."

"I am sorry, Sultana, but I was tending to Niyaz," answered Artemis quickly, not daring to raise her eyes.

"Oh," the Sultana was momentarily flummoxed, but quickly recovered. "Well that shows initiative, but you," said the Sultana, "Are what I really came to see. What's your name girl"?"


"Jenny, well, I shall have you know this. You shall never lay a finger on my son; never ever. Do you hear me?"

"I'd rather you sent me away."

"Do you now? Well women cannot simply leave the harem. I have other plans for you. You will attend to me personally; do you understand?"

"Yes," Jenny replied with a sigh.

"Always address me as madam," the Sultana said sharply.

"Yes, Madam," said Jenny.

"Very well, you can be trained. Perhaps you're no more stupid than a monkey. Tomorrow come to me after the first call to prayer."

"Yes, madam," said Jenny.

The Valide Sultana turned and left, without bothering to shut the door. Artemis got up and closed it. She was going to say something to Jenny, but she saw that she was lying face down. Artemis lay on her own pallet and watched the blonde woman sob until she fell asleep. Artemis lay back and drifted off.

Chapter 11.

Cecil felt as though he was floating. Sunlight shone all around him. He wondered if he was dead. He opened his eyes and saw lovely young girl with eyes the color of coffee and thick black hair that spilled about in curls leaning before him. She wore a heavy white dress with red trim and silver jewelry. The girl became excited, turned around and began to shout in Greek. Her bottom was heavenly, Cecil decided, but the room he was in was far from paradise. It was a cramped room with a fireplace made of field stones. The walls were lined with dishes of pink and white and copper pots. Cecil saw that there were a number of blank spots in the wall. "Hocked," he realized, they must be very poor. Still he had been saved.

"Mother, he's awake," the girl was shouting.

"Oh," an older woman said as she walked over. She was larger with a rich, full bosom and the same dark curly hair. She wore the same sort of dress. Cecil thought that it must be the traditional dress of this place, though he wasn't sure where he was.

"I say, where am I?" Cecil asked, also in Greek.

The woman was clearly taken back to hear her language spoken by someone so fair. She replied, "In Greece on one of the islands. You are lucky to have made it here, for you have a nasty wound," she noted his shoulder.

"Oh that," Cecil tried to sound brave as he reached and felt the bandage; it was tender to the touch. There was only a faint trace of red on it. They must have changed his bandage. "The ball must have gone clean through me."

The woman nodded.

"It knocked me straight off my ship and I had to swim for it," Cecil continued.

"Could you chop some firewood, Anastasia?" the woman asked her daughter.

"I'd like to talk the man," said the girl as she ran her eyes down his body with obvious delight.

"Anastasia," she replied firmly.

"Yes, mother," she sighed and walked out.

"Long have I prayed for you," said the woman as she drew her fingers down Cecil's chest.

"Really? I say, have I been out long?" said Cecil with concern.

"Only a day," said the woman. "I meant that I had prayed you would arrive."

"Me, I say, have we ever met?"

"Not you specifically, though had I known such a man like you existed I might have. I prayed for a man," explained the older woman. "I visited every icon when I went to town and even prayed to Aphrodite that a man would arrive and here you are."

"Oh that, well you see..." Cecil stammered, she wasn't half bad looking but there was Jenny. "I have a fiancée," Cecil said firmly, but then thought for a second and considered Jenny's likely unhappy fate. "I mean I had one."

"I see; but the way you said that, do you mean that she is dead?" asked the older woman.

"I should like to think not, but..." his voice trailed off as if he was unable to give voice to his fears.

"You are very worried, but I know something that can help," said the older woman and she gently pulled back the covers of Cecil's bed. He was still nude.

"Wait, there's no need," said Cecil and he made to get up, but everything began to throb. He quickly fell back down.

Cecil felt her soft, warm lips kiss over the tip of his penis. It was a trick that Jenny had used many times before and despite himself he felt his manhood growing hard.

"My fiancée," Cecil objected feebly.

The woman ran her tongue up and down his shaft, sending shivers of delight through his body. She stopped as he spoke and replied. "This will make you strong, plus I doubt any young maid would be jealous of and old woman like me." So saying she engulfed her shaft easily with her mouth, even Jenny with all her practice couldn't do that. The woman words seemed true as he became lost in his bliss. Her rhythm started slowly but became faster. Cecil felt nothing else in the world mattered. He no longer felt his wound or the soreness of his muscles. There was nothing but his cock and the wonderful rapture brought about by the sweet gentle suction of the woman's mouth. He began to thrust his hips, though feebly, but as the woman noted that her ministrations were working and she became ferocious in her efforts. Cecil saw her thick brown curls of hair shake until they became a blur. With every last nerve in him he desired nothing more than to reach his climax, and suddenly he felt as stirring deep in his balls. He cried out and felt his penis shoot forth a torrent of semen bringing him to completeness than everything went dark.

He woke up to find the woman next to him. Cecil realized that he couldn't have been out for very long for there was still a small amount of semen at the corners of her mouth.

She smiled when she saw him open his eyes. She was quite pretty, Cecil thought, with her large dark eyes and her long black hair.

"I was worried that I hurt you."

"Quite the opposite" said Cecil. "But I shouldn't think that I can return the favor."

"I think there's life in you yet," she said and flashed a wicked smile. "On these islands all women wear three layers of cloth over their boom to prevent untoward thoughts of men. Do you think that works?" she asked as she removed her heavy silver jewelry.

"No, I should say not. I know men all too well," said Cecil, noting that the woman had a nice full figure.

"Ah, but it could serve another purpose," she said as she removed her outermost layer. Cecil could make out her breasts a little clearer now; they were large and round. She removed the second layer exposing their full voluptuous nature. They strained against the fabric of the material and Cecil could spot the stiff points of her nipples. Finally the woman pulled the shirt over her head and her massive tits bounced up and down.

"I knew there was life you still," said the woman as she gently grasped Cecil's rampant manhood. Her hands were much rougher than Jenny's, but they still felt wonderful on his manhood. Cecil was surprised and delighted to discover how stiff he had become and reached down to remove the covers.

"You are a virile man, but you're still too weak for that," the woman said and Cecil felt she was right. He knew he couldn't stand. "But Aphrodite will find a way," she said as she eased off her skirt, letting it spill to the floor and revealing her wide hips, her thick black bush and her naked sex in all its glory. Her lower lips were wide and heavy and glistened with desire. She carefully straddled him, lowering her wanton sex upon his raging erection. She lewdly squatted down upon him and with a soft sigh gently raised herself. This she repeated moving slowly at first but moving more quickly until Cecil felt himself deep into her womanly flesh. The sensations were wonderful and the woman seemed to be enjoying herself immensely too. She seemed focused right in the moment. She ran her hands along Cecil's chest and stared right into him. As she moved faster her breasts flopped wildly in every direction. The site, the sensation was to much for Cecil and he erupted in a second climax feeling that sense woman off as well; though she was silent and merely bit her lip and raised her head as she reached her peak of ecstasy.

She collapsed next to Cecil and lay against his shoulder. "I think the goddess has more than answered my prayers," she said.

"I don't even know your name," said Cecil.

She smiled, "Daphne."

"A charming name, I should say, I'm Cecil," he said and he felt himself again drift off to sleep.

Chapter 12.

Ahmed could tell that tonight would be special. His wife had dismissed the servants early. She had often done so when they were first married. In those days she had blushed whenever she saw his masculine organ; and dreaded that anyone, even servants, of suspecting she had carnal relations with her husband. In time she became a proper wife and she quit caring about the opinion of her servants. She even reveled in their gossip. She was a vocal lover and enjoyed the entire household hearing her and knowing of her delight. Now she gave the servants the night off only when she craved something exotic.

With no one to serve them the table had to be set with a full meal. It was well stocked with fruits, cheeses, nuts, olives and glasses of wine. It was a wondrous feast, but Ahmed's thoughts were hardly on food. They grew even less so as his wife walked in wearing nothing. Even after a year of marriage he had not grown tired of the site of her firm, perky breasts capped with dusky nipples and her smooth, shaven cunt. She sat across from him and smiled as though nothing were out of place.

"How was your day, my master?" She adopted the servile tone of a harem girl whenever she wanted him to ravish her.

"It was a day like many others, but now I must say that it is looking up," he replied and flashed a knowing smile.

"Many things are looking up," replied Amal. She could see Ahmed's member had grown hard already. "I had a wonderful day with my new little sister." She clapped twice and Mary walked in, also naked. Ahmed's member, though rigid before, now grew monstrously hard. The young girl was exquisite with thick black hair and large boobs which swayed when she walked topped with nipples the color of rose blossoms. Her mound was covered with a thick black pelt. She tried to cover it with her hand and she was crimson in embarrassment. She tried not to look at Ahmed all of which made her seem much more naked and vulnerable.

"You are the devil, herself," said Ahmed to Amal.

"Come sit beside me, sister," said Amal. She got up and took Mary by the hand and led her to the low green divan on the opposite side of the table from Ahmed. "Let's show my husband what you've learned."

"Oh, Amal, I just couldn't stand it in front of a man, I'd..."

Amal silenced her by leaning forward and placed her lips upon Mary's. All protests vanished and Mary kissed back. They began tenderly but soon became more passionate until they were exploring one another's mouth. In the midst of this Amal broke their kiss in order to begin running her mouth along Mary's throat and her breasts. Amal idly thumbed one nipple with her hand making it stiff and hard. The other breast she attacked with her mouth, flicking her tongue across the nipple, making it shiny as it grew erect. The bashful expression had long vanished from Mary's face and now she grew rosy. Unconscious of Ahmed's presence she reached down and ran her hand across the tips of Amal's nipples. She cupped her lover's firm, if smaller, breasts as she kissed the top of Amal's head. They continued for a few minutes until Amal sank to her knees and gently breathed a trail of kisses down the patch between her inner thighs. She placed light kisses about it before worming her tongue inside the moist center of Mary's womanhood. Mary began to squirm a bit, and thrust her hips gently. Amal continued to revel in Mary's cunt. She voraciously lapped at it until Mary began moaning uncontrollably. Her head tossed from side to side and her body convulsed in orgasm. She slid off the divan, onto her knees and kissed Amal.

Amal crawled towards Amed like a cat. Upon reaching him she began to take off his shirt. She asked, "Are you pleased, my husband?"

"I should hardly be a man if I were not," he replied, though Amal had all the answer she needed when she slipped off his pants.

"You must be gentle," she chided him as he stood up to walk towards his new concubine.

"Oh Amal, it's so big," said Mary fearfully as Ahmed positioned his rampant erection between her legs.

"I'll be here," Amal said, "But it will soon feel wonderful," she added. Amal gently stroked her hair as her husband entered Mary. Mary felt a momentary pang as his cock passed past the boundaries of her virginity. In a few moments the soreness was replaced by a compelling desire. This was further enhanced by seeing Amal and her husband staring at her with desire. She felt safe and secure in his embraced; and loved beneath her gaze. It was wonderful. Mary was fulfilled beyond her wildest expectations. He continued to pound into her, but Ahmed had wonderful control. Despite the wanton scene he had witnessed he was able to hold back until she had reached another climax before shooting his seed deep within her.

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