Chapter #5How it began by: Carl   The Sultan was victorious wherever he went. City-states kneeled before him. His armies were merciless and he proved a victor on dozens of battle fields. His last victory was won and he has now settled to rule the newly founded An’Anbar Empire. Gifts flowed from all the lands wealth of all sorts… and women. As any man would he greatly desired the varied flowers of the world. His lusts were insatiable and he married many of the conquered cities daughters. Or just took them as concubines.
The Sultan did have a shameful secret however. One secret he had difficulty sharing even in the private confines of his harem. He lusted after the female foot. He commanded his entire harem to be barefoot. He couldn’t bring himself to openly admit his disgraceful lusts. He had come up with a number of different ways to secretly entertain those desires. One example he loved to do was have the women give him a back massage. There was a type of massage from the orient that actually had a woman stand on the man. This was a dream come true for The Sultan.
He had all of his wives and concubines trained in this massage. And it was a daily routine for him. He varied the routine by experimentation. Sometimes he had two women on his back at once. Sometimes he ordered them to jump or really dig in their feet. They thought that they needed to do this harder because the Sultan was above other men and needed a more strenuous massage. What truly he loved was to be beneath their feet, stomped on and stepped on.
And then one day he was presented Ameera. She had just turned eighteen. She was as desert beauty, her sun darkened skin seemed to call him. As she approached him he could smell the scent of her, it was intoxicating. Unlike other women who were sent to him she held her head high and confident despite her youth. Her dark eyes smoldered, and he felt his body stirring before she was even within 10 feet of him.
He stood and immediately declared she would not be a concubine but one of his wives. The emissary from the conquered city bowed low, grateful that the Sultan was pleased with the gift. She was sent to the harem while he continued court, distracted and flustered. All he could think about was her. After court was done he immediately headed to the harem. Ameera was already in his bed chamber. She looked at the Sultan and said in a sultry voice, “The other women let me know you enjoy a special kind of massage.” He hoarsely said, “Yes, yes I do.” She moved forward her hands stroking his face.
“In my city there are men like you, my sisters speak of it.” The Sultan frowned and swallowed heavily. Why was this young woman putting him so off balance? He responded his voice gaining some of his normal strength, “There are no men like me.” She laughed at him. Laughed at him! “Oh but there are many men like you. Weak. Pathetic. Men who crawl on their knees to be debased by my sisters.” Uncertainty twisted his gut. “I am the Sultan of An’Anbar I could have you killed for those words.”
She swayed around him running her fingers over his body beneath his robes as she circled back to face him. She brought her face close to his and whispered, “But you won’t. You crave me, as I belittle you the more you want me.” He faced battle with more ease then he faced this conversation. “I watched them come to my sisters, they begged like dogs to lap at their feet. They pleaded to be struck by them, you want the same thing too… don’t you?” The Sultan warred with two minds. On the one side he was the Sultan master of the desert and man among men. Submitting to a woman was weakness. It was depravity. It was what he wanted. “Yes Ameera I need it.”
Victory flashed across those beautiful dark eyes. “Weak servile fool. “ She pressed on his shoulders with her hands; he followed the non verbal command and kneeled before her. Running her hands through his hair she gripped the hair tightly and pulled him back harshly. Lips only an inch from his face she whispered, “You belong on your knees.” She bent down and kissed him passionately with her full lips. Her tongue entered his mouth claiming it for her own. His lust rose higher with her mouth on his and his hands came up to press her body closer.
She lifted away from their embrace and jerked his head back again. “Do not place your hands on me!” The Sultan was not used to anyone speaking to him this way. But he liked it. She released his head and struck him with a full force slap across the face. Shocked that she would strike him he gaped at her. She moved to strike again and his warrior reflexes kicked and he blocked the blow. In a tight voice she said, “What do you think you are doing?” He wasn’t sure. She was striking him! The Sultan of An’Anbar… but based on the rigidity of his man hood he knew he wanted her to slap him.
He released her hand. “I… I am sorry. Continue. Please.” Her eyes smoldered, he could tell she was angry. Strangely enough this excited him more. “I expect obedience from you. Do not shirk from a woman’s hands you coward.” His eyes opened wider and his nostrils flared. No one had ever called him a coward he always led his men from the front he was in the thick of every battle. Her eyes challenged him to say anything. He swallowed his pride and lowered his head. She laughed at him, her laugher cut as much as the words. “You will be punished and I will make sure there are no more displays of weakness from you. Remove your robes.” He obeyed her and she also removed her garments.
His eyes were instantly glued to pert breasts that were freed from her silk clothing. They had no sag to them and her nipples were dark and rich, his mouth yearned to suckle on them. Completely nude before him he saw that her womanly bush had already been trimmed to nothing, someone in his harem must have told her he preferred his women that way. She moved behind him and said, “Put your hands behind your back Sultan.” She said “Sultan” with a sneer in her voice. She wrapped the thin clothing she had disrobed from around his wrists and tied them tightly. He tested them and they held easily.
Moving back in front of him she said, “Now I can punish you properly.” Her hand flashed as quick as an adder and struck his cheek. Her slaps reigned down on his unprotected face. Though she was slight she was also strong. “You” *slap* “Will” *slap* “Obey” She ended the barrage with a vicious backhand that sent him tumbling to the ground. Grabbing his hair she dragged him back to a kneeling position. “Do you understand me?” The Sultan nodded meekly, “Yes Ameera.”
She moved back behind him, her head bent down to whisper into his ear, “I am going to hurt you. Badly. Why does that excite you Sultan?” Again the disdain in her voice as she said, “Sultan” was clear. “What is wrong with you, most leaders of men are strong and manly. But you, you are a weak man.” She raked her nails across his back. He moaned with pleasure and pain. “Come into bed,” she beckoned him. She had more silk in her hand… what was she going to do? She bade him to spread his legs so they touched the posts of his bed. She swiftly tied his legs to the posts, he was now quite helpless.
She stood on the bed, “You have the other women stand and walk on your back, I will try this except you will be on your back.” With those words she stepped onto the Sultan with her feet. The Sultan was a strong man so her standing on him did not hurt. It felt good. She was looking down on him, she was standing on him. It felt right. His passion and craving for her rose ever higher. Ameera walked over him, as she grew more accustomed to doing this she began to make it painful.
Balancing with one foot on his stomach she used her toes of the other foot to twist his nipple. He grunted with pain. She alternated between doing that and slamming her foot hard into his ribs, chest, and gut. This became increasingly painful but as she moved he could see sweat start to glisten over her beautiful body. He strained in his bounds so that he could touch himself...
Seeing what he was doing Ameera said, “I said now I could punish you properly.” Lifting her foot over his naked crotch she slammed her foot down on his exposed testicles. Howling in pain the Sultan strained against his bonds. She leaned her weight on her foot squeezing it between the bed and her arches. Muscles bulged as the Sultan in vain tried to escape the torture. After what seemed an eternity Ameera lifted her foot. Jumping into the air she landed on her knees on the Sultan’s chest. She looked down, “Hmm your cries of agony excite me.”
She scooted forward and said, “Dozens of women have pleasured you, but now you will pleasure me.” Then she moved forward again and sat on the Sultan’s face, burying the wetness between her legs in his face. The Sultan had never pleasured a woman this way but he had ordered his harem to do this while he watched. He hesitantly began to nuzzle and lick her sex. She mocked him, “You are lucky you are Sultan or no woman would have you.” The insult was one on his manliness and it burned. She rubbed herself over his face and gave explicit instructions for what he should do with his mouth and tongue.
With mounting passion she grabbed a hold of his hair once again and yanked him deeper into her. Despite the humiliating position he was in he wanted to please her. His eye followed her every undulating move. The way she breathed as she bounced on him, the way she arched her back with pleasure as she rode his face fascinated him. She moaned as her gyrations grew wilder. She climaxed in a frenzy of movement. His face glistened with her sex. Breathing heavily she eventually said, “I see you can be taught.”
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