Romancing the DEMON

Word Count 3427

Note: This is a story in my King Shahryar series, that expands on the erotica introduced in the 1001 Arabian Nights.

Romancing the DEMON

When Sa'ad al-Din Saood, first came to the court of King Shahryar, he was posing as a slave. He was part of a security detail to protect his sister, Fatima. Fatima was Princess of Ethopia and came to the court to continue a tradition that dated to Solomon and Sheba. Saood was her brother and a prince in his own right. King Shahryar assigned him the task of guarding his prize apple tree. It was common in Arabia, during these times, to refer to dark complected males, as "Blackamoors."

When the Moor first saw Esmeralda, his heart nearly leaped out of his chest. He later told the scribe Herodotus, that the experience was a case of “Love at First Sight.” His whole persona blazed with enthusiasm. Then, came a sinking feeling, when he realized he would never be allowed to meet her. Resigned, he set about finding ways to be discreetly noticed when she walked about, but alas, Esmeralda paid him no attention at all. None in the Royal Family of Persia gave slaves the slightest notice in those times, and despite his imposing presence, she seemed to look right through him. The Moor tended to take this personally, attributing it to the Queen's snobbishness, rather that a social fact of life. At length he grew tired of being ignored and resigned himself to an unrequited love. He pined away, up in the apple tree, unable to get her out of his mind.

Esmeralda had taken to sneaking into the garden at night. There she had danced under the apple tree, after being forbidden near it, by the King. The Moor had witnessed it all and threatened to tell her husband unless she granted him a favor. In the process, the Moor had slobbered juices of a forbidden apple, upon her vagina. This was the most potent of aphrodisiacs and the next day the effect was driving Esmeralda to distraction. Eshmire had seen Esmeralda returning in the morning hours and she too threatened to report the incident. To keep this from happening, Esmeralda lured her friend into the garden and arranged a laison with Eshmire's long ago lover, Moses Badar. So incriminated, Eshmire no longer posed a threat. The next day the desire became so intense it threatened to drive the Queen crazy.

At this point Scheherazad is about to continue the tale as her sister Dunazad and King Shahryar sit listening on the bed.

"Now who would have ever imagined all this?" exclaimed Dunazad.

"Not me," answered the King.

Scheherazad picked up once more on the thread of the tale,

"The next morning, as Esmeralda took her breakfast, she was joined by Eshmire. Her eyes were red and she had not slept a wink."

“Why did you do this to me?” Eshmire bemoaned?

“Because you threatened to tell the King about me.”

“If you did nothing wrong, what were you afraid of?”

“Because the taint... the innuendo..... the implications of wrong doing are almost as bad as the act itself.”

“You lied to me and I trusted you”

"It was a little lie, more true than false."

“And I fell for it.... Imagine a tree that granted wishes.”

“The tree is magic. You got your wish didn't you?"

"Yes," she conceded, "but it puts my beloved in terrible danger."

"In case you haven’t noticed, everyone in this court is in danger. One innocent word, one thoughtless act, one unintended gesture can be misconstrued, twisted and used against you. The Sultan is all powerful and it clings to him, giving him the means to do great things, but at the same time infecting him with a simmering wickedness.

"Now just a minute, Scheherazad," the King interjected. "Where do you get this "simmering wickedness" nonsence?"

"I"m referring to your perverse habit of bedding a wife and having her killed the next morning."

"Oh," he answered, "Why didn't you just say so.... "

Scheherazad rolled her eyes and continued.

"When you threatened to tell the King, I had to do something."

"I never really intended to tell on you."

"I believe you now," said Esmeralda softening, "but really, was it really such a terrible thing you suffered?"

The vision of Eshmire and the slave flooded back into her mind. Seeing the eager abandon of their lovemaking, excited Esmeralda. With a sigh she watched, on the stage of imagination, as he drove his phallus in and out and made his beloved squirm with desire.

"I love him so much!" said Eshmire, and began to cry.

"Then rejoice, because the future will be a haven for opportunities. The safety of the garden will be a sanctuary for you and Moses."

"When can we do it again?" Eshmire responded, brightening up.

"We must be discreet. The other wives watch constantly. Keeping a secret in the harem is all but impossible."

"You're right," absolutely right," Eshmire agreed. "We must act as if nothing out of the ordinary has taken place.. Oh, and thank you for taking up for me last night.... I will never forget your intercession. I love you.."

"And I love you too," replied Esmeralda, "Come on, it’s time we took a little swim."

When they got to the pool and the screens were in place, the girls stripped and dove into the water. As they swam from one end to the other, Esmeralda kept her eyes on her friend. It was clear she was searching for her lover, Badar, and at length, in a clump of bushes, she saw Moses. Shaking her head virgorously she gestured that he was taking unnecessary chances. He grinned back and then withdrew in a stealth that was almost invisible. They got out of the pool and began walking down the floor of parquet marble, to the other end.

Once more, Esmeralda noticed the full breasts and long legs of Eshmire. At the same time, desire, sent acute stabs of longing up from between her legs. Her nipples grew hard and she twisted about, trying to escape the torment.

“I'm in bad need of a man,” she said, “Pity the King won’t be back for a fortnight.”

"There's other ways the remedy that," her friend answered, without breaking stride.

"Now wait a minute Scheherazad! Where ever did you learn of such things?" Interjected the king, scratching his head."

"Tell us how the concubines futter each other," blurted Dunazad, in wide eyed amazement.

"Just listen," replied Scheherazad, "and I'll tell you what little I know."

There'd been talk in the harem, that Eshmire sometimes made love to women. Since there was always frustration in the air and the needs of all the wives and concubines could not satisfied, it was said that some resorted to other means in order to gratify their yearnings. The thought of doing thus, had never before occurred to Esmeralda because it seemed unnatural and the king always showed her plenty of attention.

"That's the truth," said the King nodding his head.

"Now, walking next to beautiful Eshmire, and feeling a compelling torment, the thought was suddenly not as perverse as it had always seemed before.

"Where are you going with this?" lamented Shahryar.

"Will you please quit interrupting, and let me finish the tale?"

She took a deep breath and continued.

"You have laid with a woman?” Esmeralda asked, holding her breath.

"You make it sound so vulgar," Eshmire answered.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"It pays to be cautious in these matters, lest you become a pariah."

"You know I'd never tell anyone.”

"I do now," answered Eshmire.

They put on their clothes and walked leisurely back to the harem.

"How do you go about, you know, doing it with a woman?"

"There isn't really that much difference."

"But you have no..... you know..."

"Man staff?"

"Yes that," she answered.

"I have something better. Would you like me to show it to you?"

"Not now," Esmeralda backed off, "I have other matters weighing on my mind."

"The Moor perhaps?" smiled Eshmire.

"Hush!" said Esmeralda turning red, "We do not enjoy that kind of a relationship."

"I understand," said Eshmire laughing, "He’s more like a brother."

"Yes, like a brother, now leave me in peace, I've much to think about."

"Pshew!" said the King, "I thought for a moment she was about to become a lesbian."

"Hush! Sire, let her fininsh, I think we're getting to the good part."

After Eshmire left, the yearning reached an intensity beyond anything she had yet experienced. It was impossible to escape the vision of the Moor standing naked, waving his phallus. She shook her head. She walked briskly about and even ran out and took a swim, but it was all to no avail. The torment of her body and the temptations in her mind conspired to overwhelm her conscience and soon had her getting up and walking towards the garden. In the past her will had been able to resist, but no longer. She broke into a trot and in short order was at the gate. She shifted impatiently from foot to foot as the guard inserted the key and pushed the door open.

“He must think I have to pee.” she thought, regarding the look on his face.

"Slow down now," said the King. "I never knew all the details of her betrayal. I can see now she wasn't entirely to blame."

"It was the fruit from the tree that made her do it," confirmed Dunazad.

"See how one small act of disobedience leads to another?" lectured the Sultan.

"Yes, she should never have danced under the tree... the king was very specific about that."

"He was indeed," agreed Shahryar. "Now take us through exactly what is going on in her mind."

Dispensing with all pretence she runs on, through the shrubs, plants and ferns, down to the bridge, up and over until she's standing breathless before the tree. The words in her dream come back as she looks about. I must call out to him.

“Where are you oh Saood?"

And just as expected the Moor drops from the branches and rushes over, exclaiming, “I'm Sa’ad al-Din Saood, the Auspicious one."

Without ceremony she cries out pleading,

"My need is great! Please take me, as a man does a woman, and romance my DEMON!"

"Tell me this isn't happening," says the king, with head in hands.

"Shhhhh," interrupts Dunazad

"Before I do," the Black answers, "Understand that once this's done, it can’t be undone. If you make me do this, you make a cuckold of your husband and reveal that after all, you're little better than a whore."

"He warned her, you heard it, he warned her...." said the king, shaking his finger in agitation.

"Calm down Master, I can't do this if you keep interrupting," said Scheherazad .

"Relax, Oh great king, I'm here, right by your side." said Dunazad, consoling him.

Esmeralda answers her Black Nemesis. "Don't remind me of what I already know. Please! my need is great."

The Moor takes her in his arms and walks over setting her on a bank. Stepping down into the water he puts his hands on her hips and pulls her to the edge. Taking off her robe he sees her nakedness and notes the fevered desire in her eyes. Ungirding his loins, he unleashes his manhood and she beholds it poised and ready. Her eyes watch as it peeks up in shy anticipation. She never questions how her small portal can accommodate his huge waving appendage. She has no fear of that, only desire, to wrap herself around and revel in the raise and fall of its swollen pulse. He pours a vial of oil along the shaft and the rest into her hand. She feels the viscous ooze sticky between her fingers, She opens her thighs wide, and the lips of her womb yawn with obscene anticipation. As he strokes himself with wet hand, she massages the lubricant into the font of her sex. Then she wraps her legs around his hips. He takes hold of himself searching. His desire has but one focus and his insistance is unrelenting. As he closes in he turns loose of it. His hands slip beneath her legs spreading her knees as he wrestles his thighs inbetween. His eyes glaze with passion and assail her without pity. Her breasts heave as she struggles and sweat runs down her forehead. Her arm reaches between her legs as finger tips take hold and coax imploringly. She wriths and squirms pleading with her body as his sinew stretches out touching her. With a start the tip makes its entry and the head follows close behind, twisting and muscling its way through the hot tangle of hair. With a surge the girth follows, slipping and worming inside, tugging deeper, deeper than she's ever experienced before, until at last it's almost there. She groans, taking the final measure as he goads insistantly. At last the tip quivers and she feels its squish, pressing against the back wall of her tolerance.

"Take me now! take me!" she cries out in surrender.

"Plenty of time for that," answers the Moor, "but first, answer the question you've been avoiding."

"A question?" She groans, for she's in no mood for questions. “Quick! ask it and I'll tell you anything."

"Indeed, that's what I fear...that you'll tell me anything...when it's the truth I'm after."

"I"ll answer truely," she responds," if you'll only tame the agony that whips and writhes like a snake."

"Very well then... I"ll start the interrogation."

"Don't torture me, please! I beg you."

"Bedding you is torture. You're a miserable excuse for a lover."

"Then tell me what to do, so I can please you."

"You might move with me instead of lying there, like a slab of meat."

She places her hands on his shoulders and begins to rock back and forth.

"Its this more pleasing?"

"Its a start... but why the King chooses you for a first wife is a mystery."

She begins to move more energetically

"What more can I do for you?"

"Begin with answering the question. What is it about my blackness that you find so offensive?"

"Please don’t do this to me," she begs, "I can't move any more... you've impaled me."

"Then answer the question," repeats the Auspicious One.

She squirms about to find relief, her stomach wet with sweat and her nipples hard like peas, threatening to burst the pod.

"I'm so pure and white," she blurts, " and you're so base and black."

He draws himself back until the tip is about to exit and then thrusts deeply, seating it once more fully inside.

Esmeralda groans and begs him... Again! again! do it again!"

Ignoring her the Moor continues. "I appreciate the truth, but it raises another question?"

He draws back as before and again thrusts into her.

"Ask and I will answer, but please hurry."

"If you find me so base, why do you grovel beneath me?"

"Because I can't help myself, damn you!"

"I can always pull it out."

"No! No!," she whimpers, " Not that, anything but that."

He draws out and pauses, as if deciding to withdraw altogether.

"Don't even think about it!" she snarls, her body rebelling at the prospect, "You asked, and I told the truth... is it more than you can manage?

"Under the circumstances, a falsehood might have served you better."

He pushes back fully into her.

"What do you want me to say? What do you want me to do?" A sigh of frustration sends a simper through her bosom.

"Lie to me," he says.

"Please, please, end the torment," she exhorts, "I've loved you from the first moment I saw you."

"You're as disappointing a liar as you are a lover," answers the Moor in disgust, "Those words couldn't fool a moron. Better we stick to the truth."

"Hurry! hurry! I can't stand this any longer."

He pulls out and pauses.

"Arn't you afraid that some of my baseness might rub off and stain your lily white flower?"

"No! No! I've no fear of that."

He pushes back in. She arches and begins to tremble.

"I'm going slowly," he whispers, "to avoid bruising your tender white ass."

Pummel it! Pummel it!" she responds.

"But what if it leaves a black mark, like the skid of a boot?"

"Mark be damned!" she spits angrily. "Show it no mercy."

Extending her arms she grabs his hips trying to pull him in and out.

"I need you so bad," she simpers," why can't you serve me?"

"Because you ignore me! Like you've done a thousand times; as you tried last night and as you do now, treating me like a faceless figment of your imagination."

"Don’t do this... don’t do this to me...tell me what you want."

He pulls out and pushes back in.

"More than your flesh I think... for you're skinny, your breasts are small and your titties are hard like an acorn. It would serve me better, to thrust into a basket of wet fish."

She stiffens. "I serve my husband well enough... perhaps the problem's you."

"The problem's that the King has no appreciation for a good woman. Perhaps he should spend more time with some of ther others."

"WAIT! says Shahryar, the Black has a point... and while I disagree on the one hand, I agree with the other,"

"May I continue? asks Scheherazad

"By my leave," replies the King

He draws back full and pushes in deep.

"Why do you humiliate me.... why can't you be nice ?"

The Moor becomes angery.

"Because you're holding back, because you're not yielding, because you refuse to be mastered."

"Tame me! Tame me! oh Saood."

"Believe me there's nothing inside you to tame...you're an empty vessel."

"No! No! I have a spirit... reach out for it.. take it."

He draws back full and pushs in deep.

"You put me to sleep. (Yawns) I'm weary of you. You're a drudge that weighs about my neck like a heavy chain. Let's put this farce out of it's misery."

"Please! please! No! No! don't leave me like this."

"Must I die of boredom?"

"Tell me what you want oh Master Saood, and I'll be your slave."

"At your price..., you're nothing but a dissappointment."

"I'm worthy!, I'm worthy!"

"Then give me your soul.... yes! THAT's what I want.. your SOUL."

"Then take it damn you! If you can find it, take it!"

"Ah yes, We begin to see the problem... you don't know where it is."

"Now there's the matter in a nutshell!" explodes the Sultan. "That Moor has put his finger directly atop it... ."

Scheherazad glares at him.

"Go on, go on," says the King

He draws back full and pushes in deep.

"Help me find it and I'll deliver it; but please stop the torment."

"It's in a place you keep secret, where you go when the world rages about, a place to hide from your greatest fears."

"Tell me where and I'll open the door."

"It's here," he replies, as he quarter strokes three times. "Hear me knock, knock knocking?"

"Yes! yes! "and she's waiting, breathless behind the door!"

Making a gesture with her finger and thumb she says,

"Look! I take the bolt. Watch while I throw it back."

Taking hold of his beard she jerks it to the right.

"There it's unlocked! Watch as I press down the latch."

Her hand jerks his beard, downward this time.

"See? The door opens.. Behold the chamber of my soul. Come in. Hurry!"

The Moor is impressed.

"I behold a room full of light... What is that appirition coming towards me?"

He picks up the tempo.

"It's my spirit.... She's COMING! She's COMING!"

"I see her hair standing on end, strands like tongues of flame.."

"Sweep over me Saood, Oh dark rhino of Africa."

"Yes!"

"Let your horn trumpet its dominion!"

"Yes! Yes!"

"Gore me deep and tame my arrogance!"

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

"Make me tremble in contrition, beneath your terrible rod."

"Yes! Yes! Yes! "

"Take my soul," she screams.

"Ohurrrr, Ohurrr," he bellows.

"Now you have her, don't let go!"

"Yes, I have the wraith by the neck! Her eyes are gleaming ... Her lips steam vapor, and her bust rises and falls, like waves in a sea of yearning!"

"Ravish me with your thick black lips... snort those broad nostrils between my breasts. Yes! Yes! take my soul and dance with me, through the very gates of hell...into the arms of eternity."

"Ahhhhh! He cries out.... Ohhhhh, she answers," as flesh heaves and the sweat of hairy groins, slap to the delight of lovers.