This is the first part of a story I've had in my files for decades. So I though it might be time to bring out and let it get a little fresh air. If people like it, then I may continue it.
Hahreem Part I
Xeiva floated in the lotus filled pool, torchlight reflecting and glittering on the water’s surface. She dunked her head into the scented water and then rose again, running her fingers through her long, silky black hair. She ran her hands down its length, and then up the front of her nude body, her amazing body, her royal body.
A flicker distracted her from her erogenous play. Her chamberlain leaned down to whisper in her ear.
“Your majesty, the King of Roihas is here. Shall I tell him to expect you?”
Xeiva took some moments to decide the fate of this newly subjugated vassal. She floated, thinking of what would be most humiliating for him. Finally she spoke.
“Tell him to undress and bring him here.” She wanted to see what his lineage had to show in the breeding department. Her chamberlain nodded and scuttled away. This was her favorite part of breaking in new royalty. As Empress, and therefore overlord of many kings, princes, and landed gentry, she’d had the pleasure of seeing dozens of men debase themselves before her. It was always so . . . erotic.
Several minutes later the flames guttered again, and King Jahmine III, young and fresh was escorted to her bathing pool. He was of average height, muscular, smooth skinned and a brunette. He was well endowed and his balls hung loose between his legs.
“Join me,” said Xeiva smoothly. The young king looked nervous, but stepped down into the warm water, and floated to the side opposite his new suzerain, keeping as much room between them as possible. He didn’t mind being naked in front of her, he was more worried about what was going to happen to him, his family and his country.
Xeiva made him wait. She floated quietly; eye’s closed, letting her moist breasts bob in front of her. They were large, pert and perfectly formed. Jahmine just watched her. It was obvious she was the one in charge, and that his usual position as the superior was a thing of the past. Finally she deigned to speak to him.
“Well,” she said, “My army has made quite an example of your little country. I predict that after we’ve assessed its worth, we’ll be able to make some vast improvements. Your people are backwards, uneducated, unenlightened and uncouth. The change will be a wrench at first, but you will appreciate in the end.” She took a moment to shift a floating lotus flower with her toes. She let it lift into sight, so well shaped and delicate, then it slipped below the water.
“As for your nobles, they will retain their status, and help administer my new annexation. However . . .” she paused a moment. “You,” she continued “will have to make a decision. You can either submit yourself to become of my harem or face execution. If you submit, your family will retain ruler ship and your son can succeed you.”
“Your harem?” said Jahmine, in shock. “My family has been rulers of Roihas for fifteen generations. I will not be your plaything,” the young king growled.
“I see. Well, then I’ll have your son brought here to see your head roll down the palace steps.” Xeiva leaned back and relaxed into the warm water. “The decision is yours.” Jahmine wrestled with this concept. All his life he’d been treated with the utmost deference and respect, now here was this heartless woman demanding his complete obedience, like was some kind of animal.
“And if I refuse to submit to this forced humiliation? I am not afraid of you. The Temujin have ruled Roihas for generations. You will regret this.” He glared at her, his blue eyes boring into hers.
Xeiva gave him a relaxed smile. “Then I will torture your son and daughters, your sisters and cousins until you relent. Every king I have conquered has become my slave or I have wiped their blood line from the earth.” Xeiva’s pink nipples floated above the water like little buoys.
Jahmine looked angry and defiant. For about a minute, until he realized that his entire family’s well-being was in the hands of this voluptuous and cruel woman. Her armies had decimated his, the royal family under house arrest, his son kidnapped, the palace in ruins. What could he do? His shoulders slumped and he shuddered. His power would have to go. His pride too. He would have to become a slave, like so many that he, himself, had used and abused. A small moan escaped his lips.
Xeiva just said, “Mmm. I love the sound of victory.” She looked at him. “You made a wise choice.”
He stammered. “What, what do you want from me?” He was just staring at the water, a glazed look in his eyes. He was in a state of shock.
“Why, your body, mind and soul, young King. Especially your manhood. All my men give me complete access to their livelihood.” Xeiva slipped over to him and put her hands between his legs. She grasped his testicles and squeezed them, somewhere between firm and painful. “These belong to me now. Do not forget this.” She squeezed harder. Jahmine gritted his teeth, determined not to let he see his discomfort. Xieva just smiled again. She had seen this so often.
Grating his rocks together she looked into his eyes. They were starting to tear. Her nipples were just centimeters from his muscled chest. They grazed it gently. Now he became turned on, in the middle of this torture. The ample rod between his legs rose up and Xeiva brushed it too with her hands. Then she was gone, swimming back to her own side.
“So you intend for me to just spread them any time you get the urge?” his voice was scornful. “Like any man would let a woman mangle his virility.” He snorted.
Xeiva raised her hand and snapped her fingers. From the depths of the shadows cast by the torches stepped forward a handsome young man, fully naked, who loped over to where his mistress was. He kneeled down and gently guided her hand to his balls. Jahmine was suddenly aware that the entire room was full of naked men standing statue-like against the wall. All of them naked, all of them waiting for a signal of the Empress to rush to her side.
The kneeling teenager wrapped Xeiva’s fingers around his larger right nut. “Burst my ball, great mistress.” He was totally serious. Jahmine watched with a mixture of horrer, distaste and excitement. This was the first time he’d seen a woman, a lowly woman, exercise such power over the stronger sex. It was remarkable. Xeiva’s eyes never left Jahmine’s as she squeezed the young man’s bulb. She squeezed with fingers of iron and in just a minute and half the testicle burst under her finger nails. Its nutmeat oozed out from between her fingers, and she began to squeezed the remains to thoroughly pulp it. The harem slave shuddered and twitched, but never moved, or tried to remove her hand from his ball or even cry out. This male was totally in her thrall.
Xeiva let the ball bag drop and shooed her young victim away. “You see. My men are willing to give up everything to me, and you will be no different. I sense defiance in you. It won’t last.” Rising onto the stairs, her toned and smooth body emerged, dripping in its glory. Her smooth body glistened in the torch-light. Her pert breasts, her shaved mound, and her ample buttocks, all moving with grace towards the naked male slave who was holding a towel for her. She motioned to her chamberlain as she was toweled off.
“Fit our young novice with a leash, and get my robes.”
A leather ball leash was brought in. “Get up!” barked the retainer at Jahmine. The King hesitated for second and then got out of the pool. The retainer roughly strapped the device around Jahmine’s cock and balls, splitting each ball, securing them and wrapping tightly around his penis. The penis that was still hard. Its 10 inch length jutted out like a flagpole, completely at odds with his master’s agitation.
By now, Xeiva was in a luxurious cotton robe, low cut at the neck line to show off her ample cleavage. She beckoned to Jahmine. He moved closer. The retainer handed her the ball leash, and she gave an experimental tug. His hips jolted and his balls stung. Then she pulled on it, making him follow her. “Come see your new accommodations.” He tottered after her. The rope was short, and she was almost pulling him along by the scrotum.
They walked down various corridors, two men in loincloths trailing behind them both, ready to force Jahmine to submit to their mistress, should the need arise. More than one conquered prisoner had tried to harm her.
They arrived at a doorway through which was a miraculous scene. It was Xeiva’s selamlik, the male equivalent of a harem. It was full of fit young men swimming, exercising or laying together, practicing their sexual technique. It was a beautiful gallery, an arched white room, sumptuous beds and silk sheet, lotus filled pools filled with deep blue water, and a gymnasium where the men kept their bodies toned and fit. There was also, off to the left, a secondary room which appeared to be a small amphitheater, whose purpose was a mystery to Jahmine. They stood in the archway, so he could take in the scene.
“This is where you’ll be sleeping and living, from now on. As the newest member, you will be subjugated to the pecking order, and will no doubt be subjected to various humiliations. I expect you to appreciate the attention, just as you shall appreciate mine.”
Anger boiled up in Jahmine. “You expect me to live HERE? Without any privacy. Without any servants? What do you take me for, a serf?”
Without missing a beat, Xeiva reached behind herself and slapped his protruding nuts as hard as she could. It instantly silenced him and he bent at the waist in temporary agony. One of the slaves reached forward to bind Jahmine’s hands together with a silken rope.
“Yes, I do.” Said Xeiva matter-of-factly. She turned and rammed the King in the nuts as hard as she could, several times. He almost collapsed, coughing furiously. Then she rammed her knee into his face. He jerked up, then . . . she racked him again until his legs gave way and he fell to kneeling. His nuts had started to swell, and they became painfully constricted by the harness.
“You should know, the last two royal pigs I put here died. One from auto-erotic asphyxiation by a Nubian pugilist, and the other drowning while being forced to give an underwater blow job to a Syrian chaplain. They didn’t even get a chance to service me. Such a pity.”
“At any rate. You’ll be here for a while. Think of it as the ‘breaking-in’ period. When I’m ready for you, someone insignificant will fetch you.” With one last kick to his testicles, punting them with her naked feet and squishing his balls with her toes, she let the attendants literally throw him into the midst of this all male assembly, many of whom had a deep hatred for those of royal descent.
. . . . TIME PASSES . . . . .