I don’t remember of any law forbidding sexual intercourse with infidels; and if the children of infidels would have to be an infidel, no one could ever become a believer. But anyway, it is just a fantasy... I didn’t change anything of the following, except modifying a bit the typography.
Flight of the Kestrel
My forces quickly overwhelmed the poorly led and disorganized bandits. We took their chief and about twenty of the younger, stronger ones prisoner, put the rest to the sword and burned their camp. All that was left was to visit Jamal, the Sheik who ruled this land. He had petitioned my help and I wanted to deliver the prisoners to him as a courtesy. Good slaves were at a premium and I knew he would be pleased to receive these as a gift. We rode for three days, finally reaching his walled city at sunset.
Jamal made me welcome to his home and invited me to share a late meal in his quarters. His servant, Maeve attended us. I tried not to stare at her but her beauty was so great I was powerless. She was as lovely as a sunset. Her sky blue eyes were large, intelligent and wide set, dominating a heart shaped face with high cheek bones and small nose and chin. Jamal acknowledged my ill-concealed interest in her.
“It is obvious that she has attracted your eye, so I’ll tell you about her. I’ve owned her since her birth about twenty years ago. We took her mother from a great ship far off the coast. She might have been of royal blood because there were many warriors to defend her and the ship carried a great deal of gold. We killed most of her defenders and burned the ship. Her mother was pregnant when we captured her. She died giving birth to Maeve, whom I named after her.”
When she left to get more food, I said “an Infidel as beautiful as she might test the faith of even one of such legendary purity as yourself.”
“Yes, she might well,” he agreed “if I had not made it easier to resist temptation.”
Purity forbids the Faithful to have congress with Infidels, who are ritually impure. Intercourse with them is a mortal sin, punishable by death. The females are impure because they do not acknowledge the Prophet and because they are uncircumcised. Intercourse with an uncircumcised woman is an abomination. A follower of the Prophet has her clitoris and inner lips removed and is sewn up around her tenth year. Her husband opens her with a double edged dagger on their wedding night. Her blood is proof of her purity.
After the meal, Jamal asked if I wished to inspect Maeve, as he might have asked if I wanted to look at one of his prized horses. He knew the answer without my speaking it and ordered her to disrobe. She turned away and removed her gown. I had heard stories of a cold, distant land where the people had pink-white skin, eyes the color of the sky and golden hair but I never believed them until now. Her skin was as pale as the finest linen and her golden hair fell below her waist. She was very tiny and slender, almost like a child, but the delicate flare of her hips and graceful taper of her legs proved her maturity. She turned toward us, shyly concealing her breasts and mound with dainty hands. The slenderness of her ankles was accentuated by heavy gold shackles . As is customary with female slaves, they were joined by a chain long enough to allow her to walk but short enough to remind her constantly of her lot in life and of the fact that, as her master’s property, she could not take a man without his permission. Maeve’s fettered ankles and the sleek curves of her body reminded me of a kestrel, jesses on her feet, perched on a falconer’s hand, longing to be set free to fly for a few moments. He touched her silken hair with the back of his hand.
“I must admit that I felt lust for her when she began to mature,” he said softly. “I did things to her to prevent myself from sinning with her.” Jamal pushed her hands gently away from her body. Gold chains protruded from the centers of her pale, pointed nipples and disappeared into the lower curves of her breasts.
“Her breasts are beautiful,” I blurted. “It seems a waste that no man will ever taste their sweetness or feel her nipples come alive against his tongue.” Maeve blushed but did not lower her eyes from mine.
“The Evil One tempts us with sweet fruit,” Jamal warned. He ordered her to lie with her hips on a cushion and spread her knees. The hair of her mound was the same color as that of her head. She was uncircumcised but closed by two thick rings through her outer lips. Jamal spread the pink folds above the first ring to reveal the scar where her clitoris had been.
“I had that done when she began to mature. I thought it would to stop her from feeling desire,” he said wistfully “but it did no good.” The wetness glistening on his finger tips showed plainly that her fire still burned. “ She is small and narrow hipped like her mother and would probably die trying to give birth. I closed her so she cannot know a man. “
That explained the rings but not the chains in her breasts. I wondered about them but said nothing since he did not mention them. I forced my eyes away from her and bid Jamal goodnight. The sight of the beautiful creature lying on the cushion was more than I could bear.
The memory of Maeve, impure and rendered celibate though she was, filled my mind. I tortured myself imagining how tight she would be around me if we could have one another and how her small, firm breasts and pointed nipples would feel against my chest if they were not held captive by the chains. Sleep eluded me. I walked out into the central courtyard to enjoy the cool night air. A lamp still burned in Jamal’s quarters. I decided to speak with him for a while if he were still awake. The interior of the room was visible through the thin veil hung across the window. Maeve and Jamal stood in the center of the room with their backs toward me. She was nude, suspended by ropes on her wrists and knotted in her hair such that the tips of her toes barely touched the floor. Jamal kissed her shoulder, stepped away and brought a many-thonged whip down on her back. It made a sharp crack when it struck her, instantly summoning up angry red welts. I wondered what she could have done to deserve such punishment. He used the whip methodically and rhythmically, bringing forth fiery lines wherever it touched, turning her white skin scarlet. Jamal continued until her back, buttocks and thighs were aflame. She bore her pain in silence except for a soft moan and exhalation at each blow.
He prodded her shoulder with the whip. She turned on tiptoes to face him, chest heaving with each breath. Her nipples jutted out like pale rose buds, the chains shimmering like streams of golden milk running from their centers. Her body glistened with sweat. Maeve closed her eyes and raised her face to his. She fought against the chain to raise one of her legs, spread her thighs and rubbed herself against him while they kissed.
They remained thus until she tore her face away from his and pleaded “Finish what you have started! I can bear to wait no longer!” Jamal stepped back and renewed her punishment with terrible force. I should have been repulsed but I was fascinated instead. The sight was unlike anything I had ever witnessed. Her face betrayed no suffering even as the whip bruised her stomach and thighs. He saved her breasts for last, lashing them savagely. Her slender body swayed with each cruel stroke, recoiling from the force but her movements were not those of one fighting against restraints or attempting to avoid a blow. Rather, her hips moved like those of a woman in union with a man. Maeve moaned louder and whispered a few words between gasping breaths. She spread her legs as far as she could and tensed her muscles. He brought the whip up between her thighs in a terrible blow. She screamed, a thin, keening cry like an eagle in flight. He lowered the whip and watched her with one hand inside his robe until she stopped writhing and moaning. When she was still, he freed her and led her to a large pillow. She pressed herself against him, raised her lips to his and reached between the folds of his robe.
Jamal suddenly pushed her away and slapped her cheek, exclaiming “No! I will not sin with you!”
“Would it be such a terrible sin for me drink of your manhood?” she asked, reaching for him again.
“You know it is forbidden for a Believer to spill his seed in the mouth or hand of an Infidel!” he groaned. “Give me your wrists!” She reluctantly turned away and held her wrists behind her back. He tied them tightly. She lay on her side on the pillow, her face raised to his.
“Do not go to one of your wives tonight,” she pleaded. “I have not seen or tasted the fruit of a man’s passion since the night you took away my womanhood! If you will not let me touch or taste your white honey, bring it forth for me to see!”
Jamal sighed, opened his robe and stroked himself. Her face blazed with lust as she watched him. He exhaled loudly and splashed his seed on her face and chest and the pillow beneath her head. She licked up all the droplets she could reach.
Jamal and I breakfasted together the next morning. I was amazed that Maeve was able to attend us after what she had suffered the night before. Purple welts showed through her thin garments and her wrists were circled by bruises yet she was cheerful and relaxed. She actually looked radiant.
“Do you still plan to leave today?” he asked.
“Yes, before the sun is too high,” I replied. Jamal shrugged his shoulders.
“Please honor me by accepting a few humble gifts.”
“It is unnecessary,” I replied. “It was an honor to serve you. My father spoke often of your bravery and religious zeal.” Jamal smiled and looked into the past.
“We were formidable riding together against the Infidels to glorify Allah,” he said softly” but that was very long ago. Now I’m prepared to go to my reward. My gifts are the bandit chief, a slave named Achmed who is young and strong and this girl.” I tried to protest but he held up his hand.
“You are wise and have the reputation of being merciful. Maeve is special to me. I want to know that she serves someone who will use her well and not sell her into a life of hardship.” He nodded to her. She prostrated herself before me, palms upward, then rose to stand by my side. This fantastic creature was mine!
The journey back to my palace was long and dusty and took many days. Maeve could not mount a horse with her ankles chained so I let her ride in a cart. The bandit chief and the slave, Achmed, walked beside it with their necks roped to it and hands bound behind them. Maeve ignored the bandit though he spoke to her but she and Achmed often stared at one another. More than once I saw her moving her hand inside her gown. He was young and handsome enough that any girl would be attracted to him.
We camped by a river on the last night. The heat was intense even after sunset. I had my tent pitched on a little bluff a few feet from the water, hoping it would catch the night breeze. My men and I bathed and swam to cool off, then I gave the prisoners permission to do so under guard. Maeve served my food, then sat at my feet, waiting for me for finish. They disrobed and entered the water a few paces away. She watched them furtively, trying unsuccessfully to hide her interest in their naked bodies. I thought again of the kestrel. The bird was luckier than Maeve for it knew the joy of soaring, if only for a few moments at a time. She fidgeted and spilled some fruit.
I granted her unspoken request and told her she could bathe if she wished but to keep herself covered. I didn’t want the guards to see her and become preoccupied with thoughts of things other than their duties. She walked quickly to the river and entered it near the prisoners who stood thigh deep, splashing water on themselves. They turned to face her. The bandit chief was not young but his large cock jutted out proudly. Achmed had something on his which I could see but indistinctly in the fading light. She greeted Achmed and they spoke in low tones. I strained my ears but I couldn’t hear their words. She moved closer to him and raised her hand as though she were going to touch his cock but thought better of it and backed away. The old bandit laughed, took his cock between his bound hands and stroked it. Maeve looked at him like a starving lioness watching her prey. He soon grunted and sprayed his seed onto the water between them. She cupped her hand and scooped some of it up, touched the tip of her tongue to it, then licked her palm clean. Achmed watched her with an expression of terrible longing.
“It is better drawn fresh from the spout,” the old bandit said “and better still tasted with other lips! This boy may be pretty but he’s worthless to a woman! Ask your master to let you come to me tonight! I’ll make you happy and sore at the same time!”
I called her back to me. She returned slowly, looking back over her shoulder at them. I asked her how she came to enjoy tasting a man’s seed. Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment, passion or perhaps both. I admired her slender body through her wet gown and hardened, silently cursing her great beauty and the hotness of my blood. She lowered her eyes.
“When I was a girl, I used to sneak into my master’s dungeon to look at the prisoners. They told me what men and women do together and let me watch them rub themselves. Achmed was young and very handsome. We kissed and touched each other through the bars. He told me my breasts were beautiful and that they would grow larger if I let him suck them. I felt a wonderful sensation inside my stomach when he did it. He told me there would be even more wondrous pleasure if he could put himself inside me. I held myself tight against the bars and we tried for a long time but he could not reach. He sucked my nipples and moved his finger inside me until I felt the pleasure. He said I could give it to him by taking him in my mouth. He put my hand on him and taught me how to bring forth his seed so I could drink it. We did that as often as I dared to go to him until Master Jamal found us. He summoned the guards and had them hold Achmed down on a bench in the forge. Master Jamal held my face so that I could not turn away and commanded me to watch. The smith formed a thing of metal, then he made a hole in the head of Achmed’s manhood...” She began to cry and could not go on. I waited until her composure returned and told her to continue.
“After they had finished with him, Master Jamal took me to his chambers, tied and whipped me until I could no longer scream, then he had his physician do this,” she pressed her finger tips to her nipples “and closed me so I would not be tempted to try know the pleasure again with another man. I never returned to the dungeon but the memories of what I had seen there and done with Achmed gave me no peace. Master Jamal had his physician cut off my clitoris later that year when he found me pleasuring myself.”
Now I understood the cruel chains in her breasts and her mutilation. The devout Jamal had been driven as much by jealousy as fear of sin. I ordered the guards to bind Achmed’s hands behind him and bring him to my tent. He stared at Maeve who stood behind me, still dressed in her sheer, wet gown. I had to prod him with my sword to get his attention.
“You were punished for tampering with the Sheik’s servant, Maeve?”
“Yes, Excellency,” he replied, finally looking at me. “He had the iron put on me so I could not lie with a woman or cool my fires with my hand.”
I beckoned him closer to see how he had been rendered celibate. The head of his cock was impaled side to side by a half circle of metal. It was soldered to a heavy band the span of four fingers which surrounded his sack very tightly, forcing his balls into the bottom. They hung just beneath it like hen’s eggs. His cock was almost bent back on itself but that did not prevent it from hardening further when I touched him. He stared at Maeve while I examined him. Her closeness must have brought forth memories of her hands and lips. His tortured cock thickened and strained against its ring and the purple head swelled and grew darker. I let go of him. He grunted and moved his hips back and forth. A few thick, white drops oozed out to hang in a thread beneath his cock. I wondered if it were her presence and the memory of Maeve’s soft touch which excited him so greatly or my hand exploring his tortured manhood. Maeve asked permission to speak. I granted it.
“I plead with you to show us mercy, Excellency. Free our bodies from this harsh punishment.” The thought of him sweating and straining to fill her belly with a child whose birth might take her life filled me with rage.
“So that you can lie together?” I demanded all too loudly, sudden anger blazing like a flame in my chest. I was as surprised as Maeve at the sound of my voice.
“Only if you wish it, Excellency!” she replied quickly. “Forgive me for asking it of you!”
“I will change nothing. He will remain as he is forever as a warning to others against disobedience,” I proclaimed, though I pitied him. Castration would probably have been easier for him to bear but I would leave him thus since Jamal’s punishment was just and it would not lessen his value as a worker. I sent Maeve to stand where she slept. One of the guards pushed a long iron rod through a link in her ankle chain and drove it deep into the earth as he had done each night before, then I dismissed them. Achmed and Maeve looked longingly at one other until the guards led him from my tent. I was sorry that I had let them see one another.
The night was hot. Maeve removed her wet robe and lay on her blanket without covering herself. I asked if she loved Achmed.
“I love what we did together and how it made me feel,” she replied. “I wish I had been able to take him inside me. I long to know the feeling of a man. I burn day and night from my need. Since I cannot have Achmed, I would be grateful to have any man you choose for me, so long as he can soothe me.”
“I have many slaves who produce children,” I said, avoiding her pleading eyes. “I have no need to breed you, so there is no reason to allow it.” In my heart, I knew the real reason I would not remove her rings; I would never allow a lowly slave to know her delights when I could not.
That night was long for both of us. I had hardly fallen asleep when I was awakened by the sound of her panting and the tinkling of her ankle chain. I thought at first that she was trying to free herself from the rod but it was soon obvious that she sought escape of a different kind. She lay only a few paces away. Her silhouette was visible against the tent wall made light by the full moon. Her knees were drawn up and her body undulated rhythmically. She continued to pleasure herself for a long time but to no avail; she could not gain release. Maeve sobbed and called out to me softly several times but I feigned sleep. Watching her struggle and smelling her sweet musk had aroused me tremendously such that a few quick strokes of my hand brought me relief. She knew that I was doing it, for she moaned and implored me to help her until my seed filled my hand and I stopped. I gained release but no satisfaction. We lay sleepless and miserable in the dark, separated by a short distance but one impossible to bridge.
We arrived at my palace late the next night. I summoned Jasmin, my youngest and prettiest wife to break the spell Maeve had cast over me. She bathed me and rubbed sweet oil into my skin, massaging the fatigue from my tired muscles with sturdy fingers. I had been gone for over a month and Jasmin was needy. Unlike my other wives, her desire had been dulled only a little by circumcision. She sometimes even experienced the special pleasure men feel when they empty themselves.
“I hope you are not too tired from your journey to lie with me tonight,” she whispered as she ran her fingers over my skin. “I have dreamed every night about your return.” She placed my hand on her breast. Her dark nipple was hard with passion. She was already wet when I touched her between her legs. She rubbed oil on my cock to make it easier for me to penetrate her and lay down on her back to receive me.
Men benefit from women’s circumcision beyond controlling their sexuality. Her opening was so tight from scarring that I had difficulty entering her. She held her breath and trembled while I forced myself slowly inside her. Jasmine exhaled and relaxed when I sank into her depths.
“You feel even better than in my dreams!” she purred. “Vanquish my longing with your sword of flesh as you defeat your enemies with your sword of steel!”
We had just begun to move together when I heard the sound of Maeve’s ankle chain against the floor. She stood in the doorway, gazing at us with the same hungry lioness expression with which she had watched the slave in the river. She put her hand to her mouth and bit down on it. Her unfastened silk gown fell open, exposing her golden-fleeced mound. She held my eyes with hers. I imagined it was she who moved under me, demanding my seed to come forth. I spent myself in a sudden torrent. Perhaps she saw into my soul, for at the exact moment that my seed splashed against Jasmin’s womb, Maeve bit down so hard that blood welled up from her knuckles and ran into the valley between her breasts. Jasmin stopped moving when I did. She could not see the doorway and asked what I was staring at that was more interesting than she. I looked down at her and lied “nothing.” She raised her face to mine, kissed me hungrily and pulled me against her with her legs, begging me to continue.
“I’m at the gateway to paradise. Take me inside,” Jasmine pleaded. I could not. I softened and slipped out of her. Her dark beauty was as nothing next to Maeve’s pale radiance. I looked up again but Maeve was gone. Jasmine tried for a long time to restore me to hardness but neither her efforts nor tearful pleading had any effect. I dismissed her to return unsatisfied and angry to the harem.
I summoned Maeve the next evening to tell her of her duties. She came to me wearing a sheer white gown and smelling of sandalwood and sweet musk. I tried to instruct her but I was distracted by her beauty and intoxicating scent. I was sorry that I had accepted her from Jamal. Her closeness was torture. She listened impatiently to my ramblings while boldly looking at my body, then asked if the whip were the punishment for stealing. Her pupils grew so large they almost hid the blue of her eyes when I answered that it was.
She reached into a bag and produced a whip made of many thin strips of knotted leather and held together by a brass handle. She held it up, asked if it were a suitable whip with which to punish a thief and placed the handle in my hand.
“It is crueler than it needs to be but it would suffice,” I replied.
She smiled and removed her gown, then she opened my robe and seized my cock. Her cool, soft hand instantly lit a fire inside me. I was powerless to push her away. She stroked me to complete erection, pulled my face down and kissed me, probing my mouth with her pointed tongue until my breath was gone and I was dizzy with desire. I had to put my hands behind my back to keep from touching her body. Maeve sank to her knees and smiled up at me, her huge eyes aflame with lust.
“I’m going to steal something to eat and drink, Excellency. You must punish me most severely!” Her soft, warm mouth enveloped me.
“This is but a small sin!” I screamed in my head. “I have not touched her! This is nothing in the eyes of Allah!” I struck her back with the whip. Each blow excited her more. Maeve rubbed my sack and sucked like a hungry calf at its mother’s teat. The harder I struck her, the more hungrily she sucked. I soon dropped the whip, took her soft cheeks in my hands and emptied myself in her mouth. She smiled up at me, licked the remnants of my seed from her lips and said “Now it is my turn.”
She lay on her stomach, raised her rump and urged “Whip me, Excellency! Punish me as cruelly as you can!” I whipped her until her pale skin was blistered and red and both of us were breathless. When I stopped, she rolled onto her back, spread her legs until the chain was straight between them and rubbed the wet, swollen place around the rings. Her hips moved as though she were with a man. The chain between her ankles scraped against the floor in rhythm with her little gasps.
“If I could only open myself to you...” she whispered. She dug at her cleft with her sharp nails, tearing at the shiny scar where her clitoris had been and at the soft flesh held captive by the rings. Her eyes burned into mine like the sun. “If I could but feel you inside me as you were with her!”
She wrapped her slender fingers around the chains in her breasts and pulled them outward so hard I thought she would tear them from her body. “Now, Excellency,” she pleaded “do with your whip what you cannot with your manhood!” She arched her body so that only her shoulders and heels touched the floor and tensed herself.
“Please!” she moaned when I hesitated. “Grant me what I crave!” I struck her as hard as I could between her legs. Maeve screamed the same thin, high scream she had made with Jamal, collapsed to the floor and pressed her hands against herself. Her hips jerked frantically as though she were impaled by a lover. When her passion subsided, I carried her to my bed and placed her gently upon it.
“Master Jamal always tied my hands behind my back at night for he feared what I might do,” she said in a soft voice. “I hope you are more courageous...” I lay down beside her. She wrapped her arms around me and pressed herself against me.
I awoke to the feeling of her soft hand gently stroking my cock. I tried halfheartedly to push it away but she squeezed harder and whispered “we both need this, Excellency. Do not deny us a pleasure so great.”
I lay back and let her take me between her lips to suck and stroke me gently until I trembled with readiness to empty myself. She wet her belly and hands with sweet oil, lay on her back and pulled me on top of her.
“I can give you as much pleasure as she did even if I cannot take you inside me,” she said and pressed my cock against the silken smoothness of her mound with her hand. Maeve moved under me. I matched her rhythm. She arched herself, inviting my mouth to bathe her nipples which quickly swelled and hardened around their chains. We moved faster. She squeezed me harder until my seed flowed in streams onto her silken skin and soft hair. Afterwards, I lay back and watched her gather up my sticky seed and lick it from her fingers as though it were honey.
Maeve kissed me with her tongue deep in my mouth so that I tasted myself, then she whispered “your nectar has kindled my passion again.” She rubbed and scratched her sealed opening until she could ascend no higher alone then she said slyly “I hope you will not disappoint me as you did on the last night of our journey!” She squeezed her breasts and pulled at their chains while I slapped her hard between her legs. Maeve finally uttered her shrill cry of ecstasy then she lay back against me and fell asleep. Her face was incredibly beautiful in repose. I admired her small, perfect body, touched her soft golden hair and ached for what could not be.
We were never to enjoy each other fully as Followers of the Prophet do but she brought me greater pleasure with her soft hands and mouth than other women could with their dulled desire and scarred openings. I punished Maeve cruelly and often that she might experience the brief flight of the kestrel.