Chapter 3 Esmeralda's Shame

Esmeralda's Shame

Two nights later, Scheherazad and Dunazad met King Shahryar once more in in the Pavilion. The king beckoned Scheherazad to his bed and put his arm about her shoulder. He then said to Dunazad,

“Dance for us in a tranquil and relaxing way that I might enter into a mood for hearing the rest of the tale. When it comes upon me then crawl up here under my other arm and we will listen to what your sister has to say.”

So Dunazad began dancing rhythmically to the tinkling of finger chimes and the clacking of castanets. Now whether the music derived from the undulating of her body or her body from the rhythm of the music is hard to say. What was plain however, is that the two were so entwined that it was impossible to separate one from the other. The effect however, was immediate, and the weight of long and heavy responsibility began lifting from the king and it soon became possible for other emotions to begin filling in the empty places. And as it happened the king felt inclined to place his hand beneath Scheherazade’s halter and begin fondling her breast. After awhile he pulled her onto his lap and began fondling with both hands. At length his manhood began stirring and he shifted his hands to her hips, for the weight of her buttocks, though not great, had ceased to be comfortably positioned. At this point he was sufficiently aroused to say,

“ Take off your clothes and mount me in a manner that allows us both to watch your sister, but will also draw from me the strain of desire. Together we will move with Dunazad, until the spit of my erection finds hospitality in your womb.”

So the king propped himself up with pillows and Scheherazad turned her back to his face and squatted down on his man spear. They then tried to move together, so positioned in sex with one another. At first this was not comfortable and neither was very coordinated, but after several minutes they began to manage better. Dunazad twirled about in front of them ringing and clacking searching for a rhythm and beat that was accommodating. The King, with his hands on his wife’s waist guided her into him while she rose up and down to his motion. With elbows balanced on her knees she used her thighs to raise and lower herself. Now, to Scheherazad, this was not the most pleasurable way of having intercourse, but it seemed to work for the king. At length he thrust deep pulling her waist tight to him. Then she heard him groan and felt a torrent of his seed squirt inside.

“Nice, nice, very nice,” he sighed slapping her on the ass. Rise now and get yourself cleaned up. I am impatient to know what happened next in the garden.“ And Scheherazad did as he bid and Dunazad climbed into the bed next to him and raising his arm, snuggled in under it.

“What do you suppose will happen next, she inquired. “You told me you had a suspicion.”

“I don’t want to spoil the tale," the King answered.

"I"m not a child," replied Dunazad, "always in need of a surprise. You see, I too have suspicions and I wish to know if mine and yours are similar."

"Then tell me what you think will happen."

"I think it’s a trick by the King. That he is going to jump out of the bushes and say” I gotcha!” and you?

"No, I think it's something more sinister. "

"Gracious," said Dunazad, " You think perhaps a lion, or a serpent…?"

"Hush now, your sister is returning."

Scheherazad returned to the bed and seated herself cross legged in front of them. With a deep breath she picked up on the tale where she had left off.

“That’s when it happened!”

“We know that already… tell us what."

As she twirled and danced beneath the tree, she suddenly turned and ran smack into the Blackamoor. He held her by the arm pits as she looked up into his smiling face. A shock went through her body and took away her breath. She looked up, wide eyed and felt a tremor of fear .

"Now what have we here?" said the Moor, as he steadied her.

Esmeralda struggled to break free. The Black made no attempt at restraining her. She jerked backward and began smoothing her gown and straightening her attire.

"You scared me," she said finally, getting control of her breath. "What are you doing here?"

"The Sultan posted me here to guard the tree."

"He did?"

"Yes, he did."

"Well!" She said, "Then... just go about your duties."

Esmeralda huffed up and gathering her dignity began walking back towards the bridge.

"I"m going to have to report this to the Sultan,"

His words came like a bucket of ice water poured over her head. A shiver passed through her and she stopped; cold feet rooted in the ground. She turned faceing the Blackamoor with a a haughty look on her face.

"Is that really necessary?" she asked.

"It's my duty," he answered.

"If I deny it no one will believe you, "she threatened. "What counts your word against mine?

"Not much," answered the Black, "but my footprints do not count the same as those little ones beneath the tree."

Esmeralda started! She saw her footprints in the soft earth and her heart sank.. Recovering quickly her tone changed.

"There is no need for us to be confrontational," she said in a more placating tone. " We could become friends and this could stay a secret. I'll take the first step and grant you a token."

"That would be nice, said the Moor, It's good to have friends in high places."

Esmeralda smiled in relief, "And what will your favor be?." she inquired, condescendingly. " I have jewels and much influence in the court."

"Oh nothing like that," answered the Blackamoor.

"What then?" she demanded.

"That you dance some more, like you did under the tree..."

"Is that all?"

"With your busoms bared."

A flush came over her face and the queen was embarassed. The Sultan was the only man that had ever gazed upon her breasts.

"If I told king what you just said," she threatened, " he would have your head."

"I don't doubt that," the Black chuckled, "why don't you go tell him."

The fear returned as she remembered how her husband had forbidden her to go near the tree.

"If I do this, will you swear to keep it our secret?"

"I might be persuaded," the Moor answered.

Esmeralda pulled her blouse down about her shoulders and slipped her arms through the fabric of the garment. Her breasts, were small but firm and her nipples dark and perky. She walked towards him making sure he got a good look. Then she began dancing and twirling about as she had before. She loved dancing above all things and doing so in this manner gave her a thrill of excitement. Abruptly she came close to the trunk and with a final twirl stopped in front of him.

"Have you seen enough?" She asked

The blackamoor opened his corset revealing his manhood.

"Have you?" he answered.

"This is not what we agreed," Esmerald stammered, shocked by the size of his organ.

"I did not agree to anything," answered the Moor... "only that I might be persuaded."

"And what must I do to persuade you," she snapped, unable to look off his erection.

"As you can see your dancing puts me in a bad way. Why not finish what you started."

"You want me to lay with you....never! Have youforgotten who I am?"

"There are other ways," he said, pointing down and licking his lips.

"No, not that," she implored, ...." it's forbidden."

"It's the token for my silence," he answered. Reaching up he picked a nearby apple and took a bite. As he chewed the juices slobered down the side of his mouth.

"Do you swear never to tell?" she implored.

"There is no fear of either one of us doing that." said the Black as he crushed the apple in his fist.

"Swear to me," she demanded.

"By my fathers's honor I swear."

With a deep breath she stepped up to him, a look of resignation on her face. He put his hands on her shoulders, pressing down and she responded going to her knees. As she looked up she saw his eyes glowing and his face filled with enouragment.

Looking down she saw the muscled shaft throbbing in his hand. He waved it callously under her nose. It smelled musky and already ozzed of semen. He pressed the head of it against her mouth. Her nostrils filled with the pungent smell of a man's desire. The Moor coaxed more insistently goading her lips with the black tip. She shook her head in dispair. Then he took his hand, fulled with the pulp and juice, and rubbed the end of his cock. She trembled as he pressed once more against her lips. The taste of the apple was sweet and masked a salty and thick tasting bitterness. Her mouth opened and she began to suck.

The moor groaned and shifted his weight to escape the torment. He took her by the hair and pulled back but Esmeralda held tight. Her hands found his hips and her firgers dug into the cleavage behind. There was no release as she savored it and her tongue began to exploer, teasingly about. This was too much and the Blackamoor exploded. She gaged as her mouth filled unexpectedly . She pushed away spitting, clearing her mouth of the sticky spunk. Breathing hard she stood up and with a look of revulsion, pushed away from him.

"Infidel!" she spat, and turning, ran for the bridge as fast as she could go.

Scheherazad paused, taking a deep breath.

"How could you tell such an awful story?" Dunazad scolded her sister. "Can't you make up something better than that?"

"Better to ask why she chose truth, rather than fiction?"

Scheherazad watched the King with tense eyes.

"Are you saying this actually happened?" asked Dunazad in disbelief?

"She should have swallowed it," answered the King.

"Thats gross!" said the young girl, "why should she do that?"

"Because it's the antidote," Shahryar answered.

At that moment the cock crowed.

"Time we go to sleep," said the king. We will finish this sad tale two nights from now.