Submitting to the Sultan Ch. 02

Note: This story includes M/F, M/M, piss play, dominance & submission, and incest, and all characters are at least 18 years of age. Also please note that this story is set in a historical fantasy world that, though it shares many similarities with our own, isn't intended to literally represent a specific area.

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Out of instinct or self-preservation, Tamas remained on his knees on the mosaic-tile of the hall until he heard the Sultan's guards in their tight formation sweep out of the house and into the courtyard.

It was only after he was sure he heard the sounds of horses being saddled that he dared to stand again. He drew shuddering breaths, and realized that he'd broken into a sweat. Tamas pressed his forehead against the cool tile of the hallway wall. Whether this heat that boiled his blood drew from the fever of humiliation or the burning of desire, he dared not contemplate.

Tamas' cock still throbbed with that mixture of revulsion and desire that had plagued him since the moment the Sultan commanded his little sister to open her mouth and drink the entirety of his piss. Tamas unthinkingly reached to give his cock a stroke, but generations of tradition delegating that a man must not spill his seed before marriage stilled his hand just short of reaching down his trousers.

Besides, he realized suddenly, he now felt the strong urge to relieve himself.

With a sudden realization, Tamas' mind went scarlet with rage. He'd been forced to drink the Sultan's piss, there in the hallway in front of his sniggering guards, and now he'd be forced to pass those same "sacred waters" into the nearby chamber pot.

Or not.

Perhaps it was the shock of his sudden humiliation, or the anger that had coiled in his belly since last night when he'd witnessed both his sister and mother subjected to the most foul degradation, but Tamas suddenly seized upon an idea.

Instead of relieving himself in the chamber pot in his room, he began walking through the house with purpose.

He would visit the Harem.

As the only son of the household, he had inherited his father's Harem after his death a year ago. In their Sultanate, one of many ways a man proved his worth was by taking a number of wives, and Tamas' father had been the most powerful man among the Sultan's plethora of subordinates.

As first wife, his mother was - literally - the keeper of the keys to the household. But the other wives - ranging from respected long-time wives nearly his own mother's age to newcomers barely older than himself - lived in the Harem. When Tamas was young his mother would visit to gossip and allow him to play with his younger sisters, but it was always understood that himself, his mother and Zehra ranked above anyone who lived locked away.

He remembered the day, after he turned twelve, when he walked into the Harem in search of one of his playmates, only to hear shrieks as the women rushed to veil themselves. Just by celebrating another birthday, he'd crossed some invisible line and was no longer allowed to wander into the forbidden sanctum.

It had felt strange to him, to suddenly see mysterious veiled shadows where once his father's wives had pinched his cheeks and played with his hair. He'd never gone back after that day, though he'd mourned when both his father's second and third wives had died of an illness that spread through the Harem. He felt pangs of sadness whenever he thought about hos His last memory of them had been them hastening to cover their faces in his presence.

It was customary for the heir to allow his father's wives to live out their lives in the Harem. When he began to fill the Harem with his own wives they would school the newcomers in the ways of pleasing him. It was yet another tradition, in a culture so wrapped in tradition that it dragged at Tamas like the anchor chain of one of the Sultan's many ships. He was a student of modern ideas. A free thinker. What did he care of tradition?

As Tamas entered the Harem, the Sultan's words niggled in his mind. He was planning to send for Tamas. Tamas had not been respectful enough. Tamas was to serve him. He had no idea what "serve him" entailed in this context, though he had the sneaking suspicion that this morning would not be the last time he found himself kneeling before the Sultan with this mouth open wide and tears brushing his cheeks as he swallowed a stream of surprisingly-sweet piss.

A single eunuch guarded the Harem. He stood at attention upon seeing Tamas. Tamas noticed he looked startled. After all, his father had been gone an entire year and this was the first time Tamas was showing any interest in the Harem. After all, these were not his wives and as an unmarried man it would be highly taboo to take them in that way. Tamas blushed at the thought.

"How may I serve you, sir?" the eunuch had quickly collected himself enough to say.

"I would view the Harem," Tamas ordered. "Instruct them to kneel for an inspection."

The eunuch nodded and turned smartly on his heel to follow orders.

"And tell them no veils," Tamas added curtly. His bladder ached for release after the long walk across the household.

The eunuch returned quickly.

"The Harem awaits your orders, sir."

Tamas bit his lip to hold back his stream as he walked boldly past the eunuch and entered the Harem for the first time in ten years. As he passed through the curtains, the courtyard sounds hushed and he immediately noticed the intoxicating scent he only associated with the mysteries of women. It was the same heady scent that had made him trembled yesterday as he knelt next to Zehra and tried not to notice how she'd become a woman now.

He brushed through another set of silk curtains into the common area where his father's - no his - women knelt.

They numbered five now. Mature Lakia - at least 10 years his senior - knelt obediently. At birth, she'd ranked higher than even his own mother, but her father's fall from grace relegated her to her spot as fourth wife. She knelt before him as the others did, but he saw haughtiness in the line of her shoulders.

Next came Khadija and Rajeeyah, the twins born to an unlucky house who his father had rescued with their double bride price. The mole on Rajeeyah's cheek was the only way to tell the two of them apart. As he proceeded by them, they looked at one another before looking down at the ground.

Due to hidebound tradition, this moment was the first time he was ever seeing the faces of his father's last two wives.

The first of these was Sufia, the mysterious wife whose name was only ever said in hushed whispers. Her unusual green eyes flicked up to his before lowering to their customary spot on the ground. Impudent. She'd be first. His cock throbbed again at the thought and he nearly let loose a jet of piss right then and there in his trousers.

And last in the line of kneeling women was the ravishingly beautiful Nadia. She looked a bit like Zehra, with delicate features and liquid brown eyes. Just a year older than Tamas, rumor had it that his father had taken her to wife as a point of vanity in his old age. Of course, the men in the coffee shops only dared to gossip when they didn't realize that Tamas was in earshot. After all, he'd earned his reputation for wrestling prowess after hearing much less serious slights against his family's honor.

Now he imagined what it would be like to have Nadia's lips wrapped around his cock.

Tamas swept his eyes over the five women again.

"Have you all been trained for the Sultan?" he asked coldly. He wasn't sure why he was taking his rage out against these innocent women, but he couldn't seem to stop himself.

He saw a ripple go through the kneeling women.

Lakia, as their eldest, answered for all of them. "Yes, Tama—" She caught herself. "Yes, sir."

"I would hear it from each of your lips. Khadija and Rajeeyah?"

"Yes, sir," the twins answered in unison.

"Yes, sir," Sufia purred, after a pause that lasted just a fraction too long to be entirely respectful.

"Yes, sir," Nadia said last, and her clear voice was like a bell chiming.

Emotions roiled inside Tamas, but overarching everything was the increasingly urgent need to relieve himself right then and there.

"Good," he ground out. "Then we shall practice." He was gratified to see another ripple of - what was it? fear? confusion? anticipation? - fly around the room like the sizzling aftermath of a lighting strike.

Each of the five women opened their mouths obediently, though he saw again that Sufia dared to look up at him. With a wicked thought, he stepped in front of her, reached into his trousers and took out his aching cock. He felt a burst of gratitude that he was finally going to relieve his need.

He looked down at her, holding himself for another exquisite second before proceeding. But instead of aiming at Sufia's impudent mouth, he aimed the first gushes of his piss at the light dusting of freckles on her exotic face. Sighing in relief, much as the Sultan had while standing over him this morning, Tamas watched as his golden stream splashed across her cheeks. He was astonished when she dared to meet his eyes again and stuck her tongue out to take his stream in mid-air. His cock jolted at the sight and he accidentally sent a jet across her uncovered brown hair.

But he wasn't finished yet. Still reeling from Sufia's boldness, and wanting to save the lovely Nadia for last, he transferred his attention to the twins. They were kneeling very close together, and had both opened their mouths obediently, so he directed his stream into first Khadija and then Rajeeyah's mouth, then back again and again. They both swallowed obediently as he pissed into their open mouths.

He turned to Laika next, but by this time he was able to hold his stream for a moment. He considered allowing her an out from this "practice," she was the elder of his father's remaining lesser wives, after all, but he again saw the haughtiness in the line of her shoulders. She was merely enduring this.

At the sight, Tamas gripped his cock again and aimed it at her face. He sent a spray of his piss down one of her still-unlined cheeks and then the other, and then pissed across her forehead and downward onto her pert breasts. His piss darkened the peach-colored silk there and made her hard nipples stand out against her garments.

Tamas was loving this. He suddenly realized that he now knew a modicum of the power the Sultan must feel every time he commanded one of his subjects to kneel. Though his bladder still strained, his cock suddenly felt as hard as a steel rod. So this was how manhood felt. This was power.

Stepping away from the women he'd already desecrated, he finally stood before the lovely Nadia. If he squinted, he could almost believe she was his little sister Zehra, kneeling there before him. Something about pissing all over the other women of the Harem had focused Tamas's mind. He thought again of Zehra, so sweet and obedient kneeling and taking the Sultan's massive cock in her mouth yesterday. Of Zehra wrapping her lips around him and drinking down his piss as if it were the greatest pleasure of her life.

He stood before Nadia, his cock in his hand and his bladder still in need of relief.

"Look at me," he ordered.

Nadia bit her lip slightly as she turned her doe-eyes, framed by impossibly long lashes, up to him. Her lips were only slightly parted. He nudged his cock between them to urge them open wide.

Thomas had to take a startled breath at the sight of this beautiful woman with his cock in her mouth. He gripped himself hard at the root, because the sensation - the feeling of her tongue on his head, the sight of her so like Zehra looking up at him in adoration - was almost too much. True he didn't care much for the traditions, but that didn't mean he could bring himself to break the ultimate sin of spilling his seed before marriage. He had to grip himself tightly and allow his cock to throb once, twice, three times before he could calm his frenzy enough to allow himself to let go.

But once he did, he knew what the mercies of heaven must feel like. With a shudder, he let the last of his piss spray into Nadia's waiting mouth. He wished the waves of pleasure would never end as he let himself go deep into her pale throat. He watched her gulp and drink him down as obediently as Zehra must have been with the Sultan. The last drops left him all too soon, and it was all he could do not to thread his fingers through her thick dark hair and shove his cock as far down her throat as it could possibly go. He stood very still for a moment, watching Nadia's mouth around him until he almost...

Tamas stepped back abruptly, and returned his cock to his trousers quickly as if it were a red-hot coal that would burn him if he touched it more than necessary.

Khadija and Rajeeyah, still kneeling side by side, remained looking down obediently. Laika slumped, the haughtiness in her posture gone. Sufia's eyes were partially closed, but he saw the glitter of green between her lashes and perceived the tiniest of smirks on her exotic face.

Nadia continued to look at him with liquid dove's eyes. He'd done to her what the Sultan had done to him. And it had been glorious.

But now a thread of shame started at the back of his neck and sent goose bumps down his arms. Was he no better than the Sultan, who used people for his own pleasure? Tamas turned on his heel and hurried out of the women's inner sanctum.

"That will be all," he said to the eunuch at the Harem gate.

Zehra, as always being watched over by her old nurse, played her harp in the courtyard. Perhaps seeing something on Tamas' face, she stopped in the middle of her strumming and stood up.

"Brother, are you well?"

"I- I- I must go," he croaked, and headed for his room. On second thought, he made a beeline for the outer courtyard. All this time among women, he would instead find sanctuary in the company of men. Maybe then he could forget the humiliations that had been visited upon him - and the ones that he'd visited upon the women of the Harem.

Perhaps he could challenge one of the other students to a wrestling match.