Sultanate of Rum

This is a pure work of fiction. This homoerotica is set in a fantasy world similar to the Dark Ages. It wasn’t heavily fantastical, meaning that I don’t have any plan to include dragons, etc., yet. The story is purely a creation from the author’s imagination and does not depict the author’s moral values, nor does it try to promote a certain value/s. As this world was inspired by a medieval dark age, there would be a lot of themes that might be unsuitable for certain people, such as relationships with minors, domination, slavery, and many other things that the author hasn’t envisioned. This work, by no means, aims to be historically or culturally accurate. Many events that weren’t historically accurate or impossible to happen will be allowed to happen for plot-device purposes. As such, if you find any of the themes uncomfortable, please do not hesitate to leave.

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Saif walked back to his tent with his feet above the clouds. A growing sensation spreading from his ass, like ants crawling all over the inside of his lower body, spreading and tickling the inner flesh, his balls, and his prostate, creating a ghastly itchy sensation that he wanted to scratch and even claw, but couldn’t. By the time he reached his bed, he fell face down. He was still conscious enough to shout for his bitches, whom he always kept in his tent to entertain him while he slept, to leave the tent, a momentous occasion, before fading to black.

Even in his dream, he could feel the itchiness disturbing his mind and his body, warmth spread in his body as he dreamed about… nothing? Or that he couldn’t remember. He did remember, sometime after an absence of memory as he slept, something warm, even warmer than his body, wet and squishy, engulfed the itch, scratching it, turning it into a pleasure as he could feel his body shuddering even in sleep. He felt a sharp pain in his ass and at the center of the itch, but the pain felt pleasurable as he unconsciously arched his back even more.

When he finally somewhat aware, in a state of between dream and reality, he opened his eyes and looked behind his shoulders to find a man, a familiar Greek slave, with a cheeky grin peaking from between the mounds of his butt, tongue extended and away from the periphery of his vision, yet he knew, he felt the tip dancing and prying his asshole open. Though he knew he should’ve been alarmed, he somehow didn’t. He couldn’t feel his limbs and his head felt heavy from the drowse, yet all he could feel was only pleasure as his body melted from the inside out into the man’s tongue dancing around his asshole. The man pulled away slightly, smiling, with his tongue still extended and the tip stuck inside Saif’s hole, cockily showing Saif what he was doing to his sacred no man’s land. His confident yet mischievous eyes were clearly telling Saif that he intended to defile his holy land thoroughly. Just in case his eyes and grin weren’t clear enough, the man ripped something off his own neck and placed it on the top of Saif’s crack.

In between the muscle flesh mounds, Saif saw a small steel Greek Cross, the only thing his eyes caught before they were made rolled to the back from the tongue penetrating, no, drilling its way into his ass.

Oh, his sensitive ass. His Achilles’ heels. His guilty pleasure that he himself refused to acknowledge the existence of his entire life.

Images of Zain burying his face in his ass, the rare times naughty Zain caught him with his guard down during their college life, flashed as the man’s tongue brutishly wiggled its way deeper into his tight muscle ass. When the tongue stuck like it hit a tight wall, halting its advances, the man used both of his hands to pry his cheeks open, and split open it did. With both hands squeezing his muscle asscheeks hard, Saif could feel the tip of the finger on the rim of his asshole, stretching it further as the tongue drilled its way even deeper. Saif had never felt more bare in his entire life, stripped both of his armor and dignity. And the most embarrassing thing of all, he knowingly pushed his ass back and even relaxed his asshole, opening it for a welcoming entry. The proud and mocking glint in the man’s eyes showed that he knew what Saif did.

 Saif looked back to see only a quarter of the man’s fat tongue somehow left while the rest curled deep into his ass; it made him wonder if he had been deflowered by the tongue. Does it count if it was a tongue?

Emotion, though mostly clouded by pleasures, rushed through him from anger to humiliation as he pushed his sphincter out, easing the tongue way deeper.

Still, the man wasn’t done. In a sudden change of move, he plastered his whole mouth on the asshole, latching on it like a baby to his mother’s teat, and blew the raspberries as well as moans and guttural shrieks of pleasure from Saif’s asshole up through Saif’s mouth. He rapidly alternated between blowing and sucking his asslips, lapping it rapidly with his tongue, and sometimes jabbing it roughly.

The muscles in his legs miraculously found their bearing back when the man sucked his asshole hard like a vacuum, and his ass elevated itself as his body trembled. His hard muscle ass tensed, turned tender, and rippled; when his ass jerked up, the man pulled him down by the balls quite roughly. Instead of feeling pain, all he felt was his asshole raw and sensitive to touch. The man made Saif’s sensitive asshole vibrates for more than five minutes straight, and when he was about to cum, the man moved away and watched in great delight as Saif, who had somehow got on all-fours, spasmed with his dicks swinging and spewing precum and his muscle legs shuddered while the great warrior himself let out a dissatisfied and disappointed moan and animal whimpers, and grunts, from a failed orgasm.

“You are one eager slut, aren’t you?” The man said cheekily as he slapped Saif’s right on the hole, making him squeal, “Don’t worry, we have all night to have fun. I do hear you have a fun drug collection. I am thinking of using it for our session.”

Saif was heaving hard, still on his stomach, as he watched the man’s feet appeared in front of his face as he made his way to Saif’s personal drugs crate. He was angry and humiliated, and his ass was spasming with a prominent hunger. He was on the fence, and there was nothing that could beat the frustration and anger caused by a failed orgasm, not even a drug, as Saif would soon figure out.

He rose, and with a single wide step and move, seized the intruder, who was busy checking out his drugs, from behind by the neck, then he locked the shocked man’s hands behind his back easily.

“Wait, he said the drug is supposed to work until morning!”

“Who!? Who sent you, cunt!? How do you get into my tent!? Are you a spy masquerading as one of our slaves?”

The Greek slave gave a flustered, confused, and, most importantly, insulted pause, “Wait? You don’t remember who I am!?”

“The fuck I know who you are. Answer me!” Saif choked the man until his face turned red and he was flailing in Saif’s grip. The Greek slave couldn’t answer even if he wanted to, and Saif knew this. He was torturing the man to make sure the slave knew who was in charge. He did consider choking the slave who had humiliated him to death, but he knew he wouldn’t get much out of it. And, though he was unwilling to admit it, his still pulsating hole still controlled his mind.

Saif finally let go of his choke before the man passed out, and the man took a huge breath in.

“Speak!” Saif commanded.

“Zain! Zain!”

That did make Saif relax his grip on the slave, “Zain? And why would Zain send you here?”

Well, Zain was not exactly the one who sent the slave there, but Zain was the one who gave him the drug. Of course, he wouldn’t admit it since technically the initiative was still his own, especially since Zain seemed to be the key to wiggle his way out of the situation.

 “Y-Yes, Sir! It was he who told me to come here and… uh… and entertain you? Yes! He said you like your ass to be played, so he told me to come here and let you enjoy, umm, your forbidden desire.”

Zain was the only one who knew he had a sensitive ass, but he also knew Saif did not like anyone to play with his ass. He wouldn’t put it past Zain, despite knowing that, to still send this man to mess with him.

“Umm.. He actually seemed to be very interested in future interaction with you.” The Greek slave muttered out as soon as he felt the hand around his neck easing. “That’s why he sent me! Right! Because he wanted to show that he is interested in you, I mean, who doesn’t look at yourself!”

“Damn right! That naughty slut, I know he had been missing this stud right here!”Saif removed the hand from the slave’s neck and flexed his bicep at him while his other hand still maintain a firm lock on the slave’s hands, and in a surprising show of strength, the whole body as well, “he acted like he didn’t want me, but I know that bussy calls me whenever he sees me!”

He was so immersed in the glazing he received from the slave that he almost forgot his anger. What Saif did not almost forget was his pent-up lust and ruined orgasm; his cock got even harder imagining the punishment he would give to Zain the next day. It was even more tempting that his cock was perfectly squashed between the slave’s, though small, shapely bottoms, and when he felt the slave shiver when he grazed the entire length of his cock across the crack, pressing it on the tight hole, he got even more excited.

“Well, slut. He always knew how to get me going, and I won’t lie, I do enjoy what you did. And since you are sent here to entertain me, I am going to fully indulge myself in being entertained. Hope you came well lubed because I am not a leaker, slut.”

The slave was frantically thrashing futilely in Saif’s grip, “Wait! Wait! Wait! Zain has an important message!”

“What?”

“W-Well… Umm… The reason why sent me here is to… test you! Right! He doesn’t like it that you have too many sluts and spreading your attention around, which is why he acted like he didn’t want you. I am sure you know how much I am sure you caught that right?”

Saif nodded despite the slave wouldn’t be able to see him, nor would the slave care.

“Well, he wanted to test you to see if you can prepare yourself for him, so he can have all of you for himself later. He doesn’t like a spare beer, he said. As a compromise, he sent me here to entertain you another way.”

“Yeah, that slut always got cranky whenever I fuck other sluts. Well, he usually kept my balls drained, and he has the best piece of ass in Baghdad, so I didn’t mind. Fine, you can save your ass today, slave!”

Saif let the slave out of his grapple and walked back to his bed. He fell on the bed on his back, grinning as he jerked his cock.

“He wants to play hard, fine, I’ll humor him. But hear this, slave, I promise that ass will be shitting my cum for weeks!” He bit his lips, imagining the dark star opening up, spewing his cum out of the massive cheeks. “Fuck! Get my cock in your mouth, slut!”

“Sir?”

“What? If Zain wanted to complain about me getting my cock suck, he can do it with my cock up his ass! Get! That! Mouth! Here!”

The slave gulped down his own spit, looking at the 6” angry cock. He would be killed if he didn’t suck the cock, and he would be killed if he scraped the cock with his teeth, which his virgin mouth will probably do.

“Um… I think you’d want to hold your legs up, Sir.”

“Why the fuck would I want that!?”

“W-Well, you said you like what I d-did… umm… down there, Sir. Just imagine, Sir, if I do that again, and then move to suck your massive cock, it would be amazing!”

Despite his better judgement, Saif did close his eyes, imagining the glorious feeling that indeed would be amazing on top of the cocksucking.

But imagination was as far as it went, as the moment Saif held his own legs up, the slave lips planted itself right on the hole straight away and never left.

He did hear the slave say, “Let’s make some Arab raspberry juice,” and felt both of his asscheeks spanked.

Before he could react, however, his hole was blown inside out so much more violently than before, with so much more gusto than the last few minutes ago, that he felt his cum would come out of his ass instead of his cock. Before he knew it, his ass was raised, his huge body was rolled up, and his cock was right on his face, spewing his cum into his open mouth, howling as his body trembled.

This time, the slave didn’t stop even after the cum, and the cum that followed, while Saif could only mutter high-pitched shrieks, “Oh! Oh! Fuck! Oh!” as he coated his own face with cum. When the slave was done, Saif’s face was glazed in cum with only one eye slightly open while the other was completely covered in cum. All that came out of his mouth were thick bubbles that were supposed to be his “moans”, halted by the small pond of cum formed in his mouth; sometimes forming bubbles from both the mouth and the nose.

Breathless, Saif watched the slave’s face in between his muscular cheeks just above his balls, eyes glinting with pride and cockiness at the state he made of the arguably strongest man in the whole Caliphate, as he descended back into the hole in a slower pace, savoring the tender hole. The slave rocked his body slowly at first, creating friction between the tongue and Saif’s ever-convulsing hole, and within each graze, he felt the firm tongue prodding and stretching his hole with a gentle yet naughty flick.

Then, when the slave suddenly stopped rocking his ass, Saif couldn’t stop himself from rocking his ass back and forth on the slave’s tongue. The triumphant glimmer in the slave’s eyes hurt his pride even more. Still, he couldn’t stop himself, not from rocking his ass and not from blowing his loads straight to his face, or when the slave made him drain the whole cum pond in his mouth into his gut. He couldn’t utter a single word other than gibberish moans when the slave turned him on all four and made Saif crawl around his tent while his tongue danced inside his ass.

The ass beating he got by a slave would’ve been enough reason for him to thrash the slave, Zain be damned, but instead he crawled faster, imagining the spanking he’d deliver back once he got the upper hand, and the world where he would be spanked by a lowly slave forever. When the fingers finally came, the first to ever touch and pry his sacred star, right in front of the door to his tent with two silhouettes standing behind the flap, and hit something inside him, his world collapsed.

He always thought there was nothing that could beat the pleasure of his cock being massaged by a tight wall muscle inside someone’s ass, but that one finger proved him wrong. It was a pleasure that he never felt, and the first. Not just any first, the unforgettable first, both the sensation and the person who gave it to him.

He was on his back with the tent’s flap above his head, while the slave lay beside him, a finger dancing around up his butt, looking down on him, smirking while Saif gave him an expression of appreciation, affection, and even love. He did not turn away when the slave’s mouth took his or when the slave tried to dominate their kiss, not even when he clearly tried to shove every single spit he had inside Saif’s mouth. Only when a second finger was about to go in did Saif hold the slave’s hand, shaking his head. The slave relented, but he used his free hand to caress Saif’s slick face, gathering the cum, and fed it to Saif, who gratefully accepted the finger. He savoured the taste of his cum, he was not averse to tasting his own cum, he had acquired a taste for it long ago. His cum was delicious after all. It was then that the slave slammed his second finger straight to the button, and another wall in his brain crumbled.

He howled like a wolf at the moon that he thought was only in his mind, not registering that his head had made it out of the tent, or registering that his two guards were on their arms and knees being raw-dogged by his massage slave Ares and his son.

Oliver found it was fascinating how Saif’s body and mind were resistant to drugs, yet with an appropriate approach and pleasures, the muscle man became as docile state akin to a stupor. With a finger basically puppettering the man through his ass, the strongest warrior within Rum, and perhaps even the Caliphate, let a mere slave like him sit on his face jerking his cock while the man dutifully holding his legs and ass up. Oliver didn’t let his hole anywhere near Saif’s face; he didn’t want to provide the man with the privilege, and instead rest his balls on the pointy nose and lips. He cum on the face and fed it right away into the drunken mouth. He had to admit, the choking he got earlier did frighten him to push things further; however, he did intend to, as Saif put it, indulge himself being entertained.

By morning, a guard came into the room unannounced as usual, which had never been a problem as Saif was always proud to be in a state he was in, except that morning. Saif was on his stomach with only his ass on top of the bed while the rest of his body on the floor, his hands reaching behind pulling his not-so flexible legs apart to give easier access to the Greek slave behind him who was laying on his stomach who could be seen with half of his fingers, two from each hand, stretching Saif’s red hole while the entirety of his tongue went in and out of the hole easily creating wet sloppy noises while the Slave fucked Ares’s son under him. In front of Saif was Ares’s bubble ass covering most of his face; on each side of his head were the two night guards folded and tied like a package with their hole flowing cum out that sometimes burst out on Saif’s cheeks.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing!? Can’t you see I am busy!?” Saif screamed at the guard, seemingly gaining his sanity at that moment, and only for that moment.

“S-sorry, your honorship! I just want to inform you that the caravan is ready to move out.”

When Saif was about to answer, the slave turned his gear back up and blew Saif’s ass, making the noise of a motor engine centuries early.  His eyes rolled back as he squealed like a pig, and his body shuddered. The slave slurped loudly on the hole and lapped it like he had been starving the entire night, totally putting on a show for the guard. After 5 to 10 minutes, Saif was left with his head dropped listlessly on top of Ares’s ass, breathing the sweaty ass smell.

With a naughty smirk at the guard, the slave stretched Saif’s hole as wide as he could and leaned his ear to it, “What’s that, sir? Oh, He said, let them know we’ll catch up with them as soon as you’re done!”

The guard tried his best to stifle his laugh when the slave “relayed” the message from Saif to him from the hole, ending it with a wave in front of him as if he was smelling something rotten.

“Yes, Sir!”

Suddenly, Saif’s hand rose while his head was still smashed in between Ares’s asscheeks, saying, “Don’t let anyone in!” in a muffled but still intelligible voice.

Saif was not done until midnight, and no one entered his tent afterward as he had ordered. What he didn’t realize is that they didn’t really need to; anyone near the tent would have an idea what their chief was doing through his squeals and moans. The two guards posted there did chase away the onlookers to protect their chief’s dignity, but no one stopped the two guards themselves from making fun of the situation. Once, Saif let out a long, high-pitched squeal, the guard smirked at the other guard and made a V sign on his mouth. The other guard laughed when he saw his partner licking the air with crossed eyes.

By midnight, Saif was finally done and ordered the caravan to move. He himself was riding his horse ahead, in a surprising turn of events in his subjects’ eyes, as he rode together with a new companion, the Greek slave, behind him. He rode quite far from sight, with only the two guards following him closely. Although the darkness of night would’ve provided Saif with a good cover on the usual night, it was a full moon at that time. His guards could see that their chief was riding with his thobe pulled above the waist, and that his leaking cock was rock hard. It was hard to miss with the precum reflecting the moonlight. They also notice something shiny tied around the base of Saif’s cock and around his balls, but they couldn’t make the shape of a chain or that the chain is part of a necklace, Oliver’s Greek cross necklace, to be precise. Where is the cross, you might ask?

Well, of course, it was inside Saif’s ass, the entire length of the bottom post at least.

Oliver used one of his hands to play with the top part of the cross, screwing and stirring the cross, which surprisingly was in the perfect length to strike Saif’s prostate while his other hand played with Saif’s body, pinching his nipples and milking his cock. He didn’t even try to hide the fact that he rubbed his leaking cock on the back of Saif’s waist, granted it was covered with scarves for Saif’s headdress around his cock, showing only a tiny bit of the slit. When he caught one of the guards looking, he proudly smiled at him.

Saif looked mostly proud, if not ecstatic like he was riding on top of the world, and if the guards were close enough, they could hear him ordering the slave to pinch his nipples or moved his hands faster, while he excitedly galloped the horse, or to those with keen eyes, ground his ass on Oliver’s hand. The jolt of pleasure created from his tender asshole and prostate penetrated by the steel cross sent shivers up his spine as his brain rewound the mindblowing experience he had gone through. His muscles tensed as sweat ran down his muscular veins, making them glisten under the moonlight.

Once he had had enough of reminiscing or that his ass needed a better scratcher, he pulled his horse for a bladder stop at a huge stone or trees, and pissed or cum, or both, while he used Oliver as a butthole scrubber. The guards did make sure to stop the rest of Saif’s caravan before they caught the sight of their leader, but if the caravan was far enough, they stood closer to Saif and watched their chief had his asshole blown out and his muscle ass flexing wildly while he used both hands to push the slave’s head into his ass calling him all sort of names.

.

               “Why is he still here? And why are you riding with him?” Jamal asked with a clear irritation in his voice.

“What’s wrong, bitch? Jealous, I got to him before you.” Afgab retorted with as much contempt, “Yeah, I bet you're jealous I got to ride him before you, huh!”

Afgab pulled Zain’s naked body closer to him, exposing Zain’s hard cock, and jerked the cock off roughly, more to show off than to pleasure Zain. No one seemed to notice that both Zain and Afgab were naked or, more importantly, that Afgab was jerking Zain’s cock.

Zain? He couldn’t think straight, at least not while he impaled himself on Afgab’s 12” as their horse trotted. He was intoxicated both from the fucking and the excitement he felt as he galloped passing his men, who looked at him, nodded respectfully while he bounced on a black dick. It didn’t help that Afgab always ramped his fucking whenever someone engaged Zain in a conversation with a mission to make Zain’s cum, and he did succeed a couple of times.

It was a small “gift” from Gil; it was quite generous considering it was Gil who gave it, but he did say Zain had allowed him to do a lot more to his caravan. He will be taking most of his cult members to Armenia, so he considered that enough of a payment.

“Why would I be jealous of you riding with him? I’ve known him since we were children!”

“And yet, I am the one who got to know him deeper,” Afgab seized Zain by the waist and bounced him hard on his cock with the help of the horse, emphasizing his next words with harder slams, “And it’s about to! Get! Deeper!”

Zain howled at the last thrust, and his cock erupted. While everyone looked at him for making so much noise, no one was aware of what had actually happened. They quickly returned to ride beside Zain, while Afgab proudly slapped Zain’s spent cock around with one hand while the other hugged Zain’s wobbly body tightly.

“See how much he likes me riding him, bitch?”

Jamal chortled, “Face it, fuckface, my connection with Zain is deeper than you can compete with!”

“Oh, I am making my fuckface right—”

“Alright, enough you two… It’s my wedding morning, don’t need you two to chase away the good luck!” Arshak finally intervened, but his tone remained jovial, “And Jamal, just let my bro have fun. He had spent countless nights dreaming and drooling over this moment!”

Arshak was riding with Hazim, a very peculiar sight at the Caliph’s own request, mentioning how it was his duty as Abdul’s best friend to escort his son. Of course, Arshak was surprised; after all, the Caliph didn’t exactly like him.

Arshak was wearing trousers and a vest, very casual considering the occasion that he himself did not intend to give an ounce of respect or care, while Hazim also only wore trousers and a keffiyeh without a shirt; it was easier for the after-party, he said. Everyone knew there won’t be much of a party anyway.

Other things that surprised Arshak were how attentive Hazim suddenly became to him, the selfish Caliph coming to him with his horse, and even helping to push Arshak onto it. He was surprised and confused when Hazim suddenly pulled out Arshak’s cock from his trousers and laid it flat on the horse's back. He didn’t dare to say a word, but as Hazim climbed on the horse, he planted his ass on top of the cock, pressing it with his ass, and, as if that wasn’t enough, squeezing the fat cock between his asscheeks. Arshak gasped, and his head dropped right on Hazim’s back from the squeeze. He could hear Hazim chuckling as he gave another squeeze.

What shocked Arshak, and the rest of the nobles, more was when Hazim suddenly pulled both of Arshak’s hands to his tits and whispered to him to pinch them as they rode. Of course, he hesitated at first, but as the ride went on, he forgot his caution and nerves as he began playing with the Caliph’s tits naturally. Hazim’s exhale and a cheeky ass squeeze only encouraged Arshak further.

The entourage, that is to say, the entire caravan, excluding Saif and Sekhem, who were also missing, had gathered to witness Arshak’s wedding, which was the bet Ghafari had made during the wrestling match the night before, after they stopped for the night. Of course, it was totally unprecedented for a man to formally marry another man, a sultan nonetheless, but the whole journey itself had been a wild ride for everyone involved.

Some of them expected the wedding itself to be only performative, designed to humiliate Ghafari, but the situation clearly had developed in a way that no one had foreseen.

For a start, in the morning, Hazim was standing with his firm pose with arms in front of his chest, waiting to lead the prayer while Sekhem was railing one of Hazim’s bois right beside him. Not just any bois, his favorite Armenian boi that he kept despite the man having turned mid-thirties; granted, he aged gracefully. Usually, he would scream at the rest of the attendants of the morning prayers to “hurry the fuck up”, but that time, he was watching Sekhem enthusiastically with a proud smile on his face. Throughout the prayer, all of them heard how Sekhem made the boi scream how much Sekhem’s cock was bigger and how much of a better fucker he was.

It was during breakfast that their jaw were truly floored when Hazim walked in with Sekhem. He wore white trousers and was shirtless except for a long red scarf hanging from his neck, with each side like a suspender pulling his white trousers up tightly. From the translucent trousers, all of them could see the scarf wrapped around his hips and thighs, covering his cock and balls like a jockstrap, except it wrapped around the balls, choking the hanging balls. Then, the balls were pulled out through a hole cut in the trousers and tied tightly around the base of the ballsack. As the finishing touch, a golden snake band was wrapped around the cock and balls in such a way that the balls were separated and looked like two round fruits growing out of the trousers like actual decorations, and since the band functioned as a cockring, Hazim’s cock was protruding obscenely through the “suspended jockstrap”. A golden snake was the Egyptian Sultanate's favored animal, so it was obvious to them who was the mastermind of the fashion.

Sekhem himself walked unabashedly wearing his shemagh that Hazim had cut in half at the beginning of their journey. He remained beside Hazim as they walked to their seat, and then he took a seat that was supposed to be for Ahmed, beside Hazim at the head of the table. When the heir came, Sekhem told Ahmed to sit on his lap. Hazim laughed, but he nodded in affirmation to his eldest son. When Ahmed was about to sit, Sekhem told him to sit in a small space in front of his chair where he lay his cock horizontally to snug in perfectly in Ahmed’s crack.

His other sons dressed as usual, that is to say with nothing but their trousers for breakfast, with Yousef and Pasha missing; Abbas having his Greek slaves fed him food with chains in his hand connected to their balls, and Aziz was fed by his man-wife, Zakar, who had his asshole wrecked by Faiz’s finger who sat beside Aziz from under the table, preparing him for their usual escapade after breakfast behind his husband’s back. Both Faiz & Fayez sat across each other, and they switched every day so they each could have a crack at Zakar’s ass.

Halim being cranky wasn’t surprising; most of them were already familiar with the youngest prince's spoiled nature, and they could already guess the cause was either Hazim himself or Zain. What surprised them was Rafay’s presence beside Halim, which surprisingly lightened the prince’s mood.

Throughout the breakfast, Sekhem had his head between Ahmed’s armpit, having the eldest prince feed him food and sucked on his nipple. The others couldn’t see what he did because Sekhem’s head was hidden by Ahmed’s muscular body, but Hazim could clearly see what Sekhem was doing and paid great interest in it. They, however, could see his other hand playing with Ahmed’s other nipple quite easily. Once in a while, Sekhem would order the Prince to take Ahmed and Hazim’s mug and put it under their table, and after a while, he would set it back on the table; only Ahmed, Hazim, and Karim who sat beside them, not counting Hazim’s Arab bodyguards and the slaves, who knew Sekhem filled the mug with his piss before setting it up for the father and son to drink. Hazim gulped it down the moment it was served to him while Ahmed was hesitant, but drank his after his father drank several mugs of piss seemingly unbothered. When he didn’t have any left in the tank, he would have one of the slaves or, for the fun of it, one of Hazim’s bodyguards to fill it with their piss instead.

On a different note, a couple of times they noticed Ahmed suddenly move forward, but he quickly backed himself quietly.

After Sekhem finished Ahmed’s food, he showed him a letter and whispered something into his ear. Ahmed looked flustered, but he nodded silently. Sekhem quickly moved Ahmed away and jumped to his feet.

“Finish with your breakfast?” Hazim asked Sekhem who was stretching himself, Hazim’s eyes were staring straight at Sekhem’s somehow shiny cock swinging around.

He replied, “Yep! And now I need to prepare to make the best welcoming gift for you, and you get to thank Zain for that. Just wait until we get to Trebizond!”

Hazim raised his eyebrows curiously, “What is it?”

“I am not supposed to tell you, but…” He looked around, and then grinned, “Zain isn’t here, so I suppose I could give you a tease. Close your eyes.”

Hazim chuckled, but giddily closed his eyes.

“Now, open your eyes.”

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted by Sekhem’s ass, cheeks spread apart, right in front of him, hole right to his eyes, and everyone watched in horror as Sekhem let out a rip wet fart right on the Caliph’s face. The room went silent as everyone waited for Hazim’s response with bated breath.

Hazim guffawed and spanked Sekhem’s ass as the man walked out, leaving the nobles’ jaws floored.

But their surprise didn’t end there, as when Sekhem walked away, Ahmed followed behind him. Once Ahmed got close to them, they could finally see that Sekhem was leading Ahmed with Ahmed’s belt tied around the prince’s cock, his trousers had gone some time ago.

Coming back to where the story was, everyone laughed at Afgab’s crimson face at Arshak’s remark.

As they arrived at Ghafari’s caravan, and Afgab had loaded Zain with another one of his loads for the day, the mood among the Persian men was tense and grim. They watched silently as the Caliph approached them.

In front of the main tent, as Hazim had instructed, all of Ghafari’s family, now Hazim’s hostages, gathered naked hands bound together with a rope, all gagged, with Hazim’s giant black bodyguards guarding them. Covered with a Persian flag in the middle on top of a table was Ghafari, well, Ghafari’s ass to be specific. He had his legs folded to his shoulder, on his back, while the entirety of his body was covered by the flag, with only his ass showing out through a large hole cut through the flag.

There was no grand ceremony, no speech, no announcement, with a single nod from Hazim, the black slaves carried the hostages to a long log fence where they bent them over and stood on guard nearby. The nobles did not need an explanation as it was not the first time Hazim had punished a noble family by turning them into sex slaves for his party, but it was the first time it happened to a high-profile family, whom, they concurred, must have some royal bussies on them. All of them were lining up, waiting for their turn at the royal assholes, with Ghafari’s just-turned-adult son having the longest line. His smoothness and the only pink unbreached asshole were irresistible, and those who had first-hand experience of the brat, most of whom were from “loyal” clansmen to Ghafari, knew who they would line up first. Spit and creampie were all that brat deserved.

Ghafari could only groan and wiggled when he heard his family’s cries as he was bound really tightly and his mouth was gagged with one of the slave’s breech.

With a single hard spank on Arshak’s ass, Hazim motioned for the groom of the hour to come closer to Ghafari’s ass. The hole had been thoroughly cleaned, and the only saving grace for Ghafari was that he had been stretched and prepared by Hazim’s slaves. It was quite a humiliating ordeal for Ghafari as he was tied, shaved, douched, and fingered right on the open field around his tent while the usually stoic slaves conversed wantonly about his slutty hole in front of his subjects.

With only a slight, Arshak pushed his cock into the hole lightly, and chuckled as the ass struggled away while the hole quivered in fear. Arshak's 13” cock was quite well-known among the nobles and beyond, and they often talked about it as jokes that most of the time had hidden, unwilling admiration in them.

Bracing his cock right in front of the trembling hole, Arshak slammed his cock right to the hilt, surprisingly easy thanks to the slicked hole. The slaves had done a good job in preparing Ghafari’s hole. It was slick enough for Arshak to slide his massive cock in, but his massive size and the amount of oil were enough to make his cock burn from the grip. The wet, lewd squelching sound accompanying Ghafari’s pained yet sultry moan rang like music to Arshak’s ear as he quickly unsheathed his cock completely before slamming it back home again. He pulled out right away and spread the asscheeks apart for the rest of the people to see. He did it a couple of times, slamming Ghafari’s inside at different angles, trying to wreck the Sultan’s asshole apart, pop his cock from the side, and gape the hole as wide as he could. Ghafari’s pained groans only encourage Arshak to play and stretch the poor asshole even more.

When he was done playing around, he climbed onto the table, squatting low like a frog with his cock lined up to the hole before giving Ghafari’s the fastest long dicking he had ever endured. The squelching sound and the muffled moan were beating those of Ghafari’s own family, who had a train running over them.

On the side where Hazim had his men set his throne, he sat on top of it cross-legged with a cruel smile on his face. In front of him was another row of Ghafari’s family, the women this time, naked and tied, with a row of naked Persian noblemen standing ready to seed these women. It was one of Hazim’s “games”; it was quite well-known, as he only held the game whenever he had to cleanse and replace his vassals. He did make it clear that he would not replace Ghafari as the sultan; he only wanted to have the most debauched fun he could have, thanks to the opportunity that Ghafari had provided. The rest of his court, including Zain, did voice their concern over humiliating Ghafari and kicking him on the ground literally, without neutralizing him, could pose a future problem.

Hazim’s response was simply farting.

Although the Persians were mostly loyal to Ghafari, they did not refuse a chance at gaining higher favor from the Caliph himself. The fact that the women were also beautiful encouraged the men to pump their seed into them even more. Physicians were ready nearby to test whether this woman was impregnated or not, and those who managed to get the woman pregnant would have their position elevated. That night, however, was even more special as Hazim would personally recognize those who are extremely endowed and/or muscular “winners” by boasting them publicly before letting them enjoy a huge warrior feast prepared just for them, then toasting with their piss as Hazim’s drink. Not as a “mead”, but as a piss, strong and virile warriors’ piss worthy of a Caliph’s honor. Fear and the wild night that had started it all seemed to have normalized the nobles' perception of this… “practice”.

 The game would continue until every single woman was impregnated, the night was over, or Hazim was bored.

Other than Ahmed, who was missing, the rest of Hazim’s sons were all in the “wedding” feast as well. Abbas was seen fucking Hasan, whose huge body was folded like a package and bound tightly, suspended in the air by other Persian warriors equally naked, while he had a luxury candlelit dinner on top of Hasan’s body. Pasha was in one of the tents being milked for his piss with his husbands running a train on his ass, while Aziz was cuddling with his man-wife. The twins were jumping between the family’s holes, even cutting lines. It was Yousef who raised Zain’s eyebrows. He was drinking with Karim, attended by one of Rafay’s personal servants, Christopher, instead of fucking one of the men or women. They laughed while Yousef kept Karim nursed on his drinks, and when Zain’s eyes met his, he winked.

It was a peculiar sight, to say the least. It was needless to say that Hazim and Abdul’s relationship was thicker than blood, and it was truly shown when Karim grew into his teenagehood and Hazim took him under his wing, giving him errands to do together with his eldest son. Both sons grew quite close, though not as thick as their father, in terms of relationship at least, and they both grew to be two muscleheads. To say Karim had been Hazim’s second-oldest son was not quite far-fetched; in fact, Hazim himself lauded the notion. Which was why it was weird to say Yousef being all friendly to Karim because he hated Hazim and everyone Hazim loved, especially his brothers. Peculiar indeed.

Zain found that one of his counselors, Hossam, and his men were lining up to fuck Ghafari’s family, while Rafay and his two brothers were talking jovially with Halim. Zain knew Rafay must’ve put his brothers to talk to Halim as well, or those two would’ve sauntered off to fuck the nearest hole. Despite never telling Rafay anything about Halim, it seemed that his vizier knew enough that Zain would appreciate him to keep the young and spoiled prince occupied. Rafay clearly wanted some quality time with his new paramour slave as well, which was why he put his brothers to the task, but did not let them out of his sight to mess Halim’s mood even more. In the end, his brothers were surprisingly capable of holding a conversation with Halim, especially with the praises that they showered him with.

Zain, Jamal, and Afgab settled on a spot on the ground, drinking, while the rest of the men went to the party at Ghafari’s ass and emptied their supplies. Afgab sat quite close to Zain, almost cuddling him if not for Jamal cockblocking him every step of the way, making Afgab wonder if it was better for him to just shove his cock up Zain’s ass again to shut Jamal. His eyes, however, actually wandered to his best friend having the time of his life rutting on top of the Sultan of Persia, slapping his balls left and right like he was riding a horse. It was Arshak’s puffed-out asshole that caught Afgab’s attention the most. It was red and, more importantly, sticking out like it was holding something and could burst at any moment, and it made Afgab hot and cold.

“I’ll see you in a bit!” Afgab kissed Zain on the cheek before standing up and going to Arshak, ignoring Jamal’s furious shouts.

Afgab slapped Arshak’s pounding ass and pressed down on the top of his crack to stop him from moving. “Is there any room left for your best friend?” Afgab asked, pressing his cock right next to Arshak’s cock, his hands remained above Arshak’s crack while his thumb moved down to rub Arshak’s reddish used asshole.

“Always!” Arshak replied, remaining crouched in a frog position, waiting for Afgab to push his cock in, as his hole, Afgab noted, enthusiastically winking at him.

His eyes remained looking at the hole, thumb rubbing on the lips, while his hips pushed his cock inside the tight room, stretching Ghafari’s asshole to a new limit.

Feeling his ass was being split apart, Ghafari struggled even harder, but Arshak was strong enough to keep him still, and all he could feel was pain as if his ass was about to be split in half, and all he could hear was Arshak’s laughter.

“That’s what you get when you mess with the Abduls!”

Arshak moaned when he felt both Afgab’s cockhead pop into Ghafari’s asshole, and a finger went into his ass straight on his bitch button. He looked back at Afgab, who was smirking, and slapped him on the chest, lightly laughing, seemingly registering the gesture as nothing more than one of his bro’s shenanigans.

Afgab laughed and pulled his fingers out, and when nobody was looking, sucked his own finger, tasting the “gift” Gil left inside Arshak for him.

“Look at him! Claims he loves you, and at the first sight of a hole, he already hounds his way there.” Jamal scornfully said, looking at Afgab and Arshak, who had begun sawing their cocks in and out of Ghafari while the owner of the broken hole screamed through his gag.

Zain laughed, “Relax, Jamal.”

“And the Caliph… I still can’t believe he drinks fucking piss in public now… Actually, I can’t believe you make this possible…”

“I didn’t, it’s the Caliph himself who drank that piss and made this a normal thing. But even if I had some part in pushing the Caliph, are you disappointed in me?”

Jamal looked at him, shocked, “What? No! I would never! I am impressed, if anything, never in a million years would I have thought a Caliph could be so brazen openly, yet here he is, and you have a big part in helping him to achieve that. I am just… a bit cautious. The liberty you gave to the Greek slaves… I hope it won’t bite us in the ass later.”

“I didn’t do much, really. The seeds of everything were planted perfectly by the Han; all I did was water them so they could bloom. Everything was laid out and planned beforehand, almost eerily, as if someone had been playing with us with a string all along. But you’re right, I played no small part in dancing as the strings wish, I just hope it won’t bite us later.”

Jamal looked at Zain confused, “Fuck, this conversation is too heavy for me, brother. Hey, slave, bring me your Fresh mead!”

Understanding the code given by Jamal, the slave went out of sight with a mug in his hand, always ready to give his Arab superior his special brew.

“Never took you for a piss drinker, Jamal!”

“I wouldn’t believe it myself, but only God knows what they have in that bladder of theirs to make the fucking mead taste so good. I’d convince you to drink one if I didn’t know you don’t drink.”

Zain just smiled at Jamal as the slave came and delivered his “fresh” mead, which Jamal quickly savored the foam before drinking everything in.

It was then that Hossam approached them and sat beside Zain. His body was slick with sweat from unloading his pent-up frustration in every single hole of Ghafari’s family members. He would like to say it was a revenge fuck for a family that had shown hostility towards Zain, and that he was defending Zain’s honor. However, he had to admit, he was trying to restore some of his masculinity back after it was, as Oliver once put it, “Pounded, bred, and shat out with Oliver’s cum”. Instead of feeling like a man back, all his fucking did was make him realize what he had missed even more, as his ass ached even more than the pleasure he got from fucking, especially since Oliver was missing for the whole day.  Sure, he had cum numerous times, but it was different from the cum Oliver had given him.

“Enjoying the sight, Your Highness? I think you’ll enjoy it more if you join them!” Hossam said.

“Really? From the look of your face, I think you’d love Oliver’s massage more.” Hossam was taken aback by Zain’s retort, who only laughed and slapped Hossam’s shoulder lightly, “Don’t worry, I know that feeling, that itch. I heard Oliver is quite good at scratching it, huh?”

His handsome face lit up in realization. He was curious but also cautious as he asked, “Is Your Highness… also… with him?”

“God, no! But I was quite… free during my college years, and when I found that itch, I never had a day when I didn’t have someone else scratching it for me. Even just a day without having someone, you know, doing that, all I could think of was how to scratch that spot and the pleasure I got whenever it got scratched.”

Hossam chortled, “Fuck! You do know how it felt. Yeah, I hate to admit it, but that fucker is good at what he’s doing. He did it once, and now all I can think of is that. His Highness must’ve been really disappointed in me.”

“I am not. I think of it as… a fun activity. Collecting antiques, drinking khamr, having sex with women, why should scratching my butt with cocks be any different?”

Hossam was quite surprised by Zain’s bluntness, but he was quite relieved as well.

“I… I am really glad you said that, Your Highness. It’s just… I know we call it a ‘massage’ and a treatment, but we both know, he made sure I know too, that it is not. I want to refuse it, many times I fight the desire, but I always thought it was because that man has a string over me. But today, I realize, you made me realize what I feared to face. I like what he did just as much.” He sighed and took a sip of his mead, “I am afraid if I accepted it, I would be lesser, and that I wouldn’t be able to be the man needed to protect you.”

“Uncle,” Zain put his hands on Hossam’s shoulder, “You are not less of a man for what you like. I believe that, has always been. I think that’s the reason why I did what I did. I always dreamed of a perfect world, and now that I am handed the perfect opportunity to shape a fraction of that world, I am afraid. But you know, I can’t fight who I am, just as you can’t fight what you like, uncle.”

“Thank you, Your Highness…”

“Besides, I have so many people protecting me already, I am sure I will have someone by my side if you are too busy scratching your shitter, right, Jamal?”

Three of them laughed at the remarks. Jamal knew his input was neither needed nor called for. He might’ve been a respectable son from a respected father, but he knew his place in the conversation. Their laughter finally settled into quietness after a few minutes had passed.

Letting a few seconds pass by, Zain nudged Hossam’s arm, pointing at Khalid with his chain, “What about him?”

It was not hard for Hossam to understand Zain’s question; after all, it was not like his son to have his finger knuckle deep inside his own ass 24/7. In fact, it was normal for Khalid to be naked most of the hours every day, save for a tiny rope tied around his waist to hang a pouch filled with oil, salve, and pills Oliver had prescribed for him. Khalid religiously followed Oliver’s instructions, claiming it was great for his muscles and that it felt really good. In his defense, everyone agreed that his muscles got bigger when he flexed, only with one arm, since his other hand was deep in his own crack. If he didn’t have his finger inside his ass, he would have Oliver’s tongue in it instead, usually during dinner, and if he rode with Oliver while the man mounted his dad in their usual position. Before they slept, Oliver would slather every single inch of Khalid’s body with the aphrodisiac oil and had him sleep beside Hossam. He didn’t sleep, of course, he was too horny both from the oil and watching his dad being “massaged” to sleep. Instead, he was on his knees with his face down, looking directly and closely at Oliver’s cock going in and out of his dad’s ass, while he reached behind, finger fucking himself. Khalid’s cock was rock hard both from watching Oliver and from the fact that he knew he was finger fucking himself right at the peeping audience behind him.

“I… I don’t…”

“Let me make it easy for you then,” Zain looked at Hossam intently, his expression did not show any anger or happiness, there was no judgment in his eyes, “Is he like the perfumes you sent to Alya?”

Hossam was shocked and angry at the insinuation, but once the gears in his head turned, his expression changed as he looked away from Zain in shame, “I… You must think I am a bad father.”

“Perhaps… But as far as I know, Khalid was doing it on his own. I… I think it is best to see that he is; if he’s happy, you should be happy too. But we need to make sure Oliver won’t play both of you like a fiddle. But who am I kidding, if he gets into my ass, he’ll play me like a fiddle too.”

They laughed again and continued the night, conversing about everything and nothing at all.

Hazim finally called the night when he was parched for something other than piss, and he went directly to one of the tents where Pasha and his husbands were. Although it did not mean they had to stop fucking the “prizes”, which some of them did not, it was more of a sign for the nobles who wanted to go home. It left a small window for the lowborns, mostly servants and soldiers, and if they were lucky, slaves, to have their time with the sluts. They mostly focused on the women who failed to be declared pregnant by the physicians beforehand, but they would ram their cock inside any free hole indiscriminately.

Zain, accompanied by Jamal, made a last check inside Pasha’s tent and saw that Hazim had a mouthful of Atlas’s cock while Pasha’s head was deep inside his husband’s ass. Zain made it clear from the first time that Hazim’s ass was off limits, and Atlas made sure no one got even near Hazim’s ass.

Arshak and Afgab had challenged each other to carry Ghafari inside the Sultan’s opulent tent to fuck him there without letting their cocks out of Ghafari, and when Zain passed by, they had made it to the front of the tent. Afgab was quite shy and a little bit guilty when Zain looked at him, but Zain just grinned and smacked him on the butt before leaving.

It was after a short walk that he saw something interesting. The caravan had stopped in a wide plain where they hitched their tents, and quite a few distances away from the caravan site, he saw his brother, Karim, on all fours on the ground while Yousef kneeled behind him, his body shining, reflecting the moonlight. Zain couldn’t see Yousef’s cock, but he didn’t have to. He already knew what those two were doing, or rather, where Yousef’s cock was going in and out of.

“Should we stop them?” Jamal asked, to which Zain shook his head.

When they left, Zain saw that Christopher was carrying another mug to them.

Zain’s next stop was Sekhem’s tent, and he went straight inside, greeted by Ahmed in a mating pressed under a black slave. Sekhem was sitting nearby, cuddling with Ghaz, both of their cocks were slicked and used.

“So you decided on him?” Zain asked.

“Of course. There is no better place to churn the cum cheese other than his eldest’s shitbarrel he shat out of his cock, don’t you think?”

“How did you even convince him?”

“As you advised. I added the drugs you gave me, heck, he saw me put those fucking drugs in, and he drank it anyway. It was only after I got my dick inside him, I noticed the hole was loose. Well, it was still tight for my cock, but definitely a well-used one. He confessed he had been banging your brother, a quick fuck here and there around the camp and horses. Hope your brother won’t be mad, this cunt will be staying here for the rest of the journey.”

Zain chuckled. He never would’ve expected his brother to score the eldest Prince, but here he was. “He won’t mind, I’ll talk to him if he says anything.”

“Well, glad to know that. I can’t find a better vessel to be used to make the cum cheesecake with, and don’t worry, I’ll milk every single Egyptian man, nobles and slaves, to make the cake! I’ll also throw in some horses and camels cum for seasonings.”

Sekhem continued talking and boasting about stuff that Zain didn’t care about, and he didn’t bother to respond as well. His eyes were fixed on the huge black cock pistoning the First Prince and Heir to the Caliphate’s musclecunt. He saw the slave who was mounting Ahmed groan and unload inside the prince. Once he pulled out his creamy cock, another slave was ready nearby to wipe the cream off and pushed it inside Ahmed with great efficiency before the cum leaked out, and another cock replugged the hole.

“Do you want to add yours?” Sekhem asked.

“No,” Zain said flatly; he had a feeling his cock would be needed elsewhere.

When Zain walked out of Sekhem’s tent, Jamal finally spoke up, “I think you should rest. I’ll continue the patrol.”

Zain looked at him, unsure whether or not to let Jamal patrol on his own. It was not the first time Jamal had been Zain’s errand boy, and he had seen basically everything, but Zain was still not sure of how Jamal felt about everything that happened.

“Don’t worry, I will handle everything with care, you can trust me not to mess things up,” Jamal said.

After some thought, Zain finally nodded, and they went their separate ways.

When Zain passed back to see his brother, sure enough, both Karim and Yousef were still dogging on the plain sight. Only this time, Yousef was choking on both Christopher and Rashid’s cocks as Rafay’s brother used his head like a fleshlight while his arms wrapped around his slave Christopher’s shoulder, seemingly praising him. Later, Zain knew from Christopher that all he needed to do was convince Yousef that the “mead” was better from the tap, which was easy enough since Yousef was already drunk. Once the prince had his mouth open, it was smooth sailing for Christopher’s cock to go in and out of the mouth after. Rashid appeared out of nowhere, arms wrapped around Christopher, praising him for the catch as he pulled Yousef’s head off Christopher cock and slammed his own cock in without even letting Yousef breathe. The Prince did not show any sign of refusal until Rashid tried to push his cock up Yousef’s ass. They had a minor physical altercation, but the Prince seemingly forgot when he went back, sucking on Christopher’s cock, and then Rashid’s cock. He even actively jerked the shaft and massaged their balls. They ended up falling asleep there at the open field with Rashid making sure his ass was sitting on Yousef’s face. It was when Rashid tried to get his morning load off with Yousef’s head that the Prince, fully awake, crushed Rashid’s balls with one hand. Yousef made Rashid piss himself while swearing he won’t tell anyone about what happened. Yousef went away with a hungover Karim, shoulders to shoulder, while Christopher was hiding the moment the altercation began, knowing fully well he would be the object of Rashid’s ire regardless.

What piqued Zain’s interest was the fact that Yousef seemed to know what the ”mead” truly was, and perhaps, the man was more resourceful than he thought.

When Zain reached his own tent, sure enough, Halim was standing there, accompanied by Rafay, who nodded at him.

“Zain!”

Halim rushed and hugged Zain as soon as he was in sight, before quickly pulling him towards Rafay. His head rested on Zain’s broad shoulder.

“Your Highness…” Rafay said, “I was escorting the Prince to your tent, and noticed it was empty. He invited me inside, but I am afraid it would be impolite for me, so I offered to guard the tent until you arrived. The Prince insisted on accompanying me here, and his words were as sweet as his face. How could I refuse?”

“You’re too kind, Rafay. You have been a joy tonight. How could I leave you alone, cold in the night? I insisted on calling the guards, but he said he didn’t trust that the guards would be able to handle my beauty. Would you hear that, Zain?”

“It’s true, even I have a hard time keeping my hands to myself while talking to you, your Most Beloved. Your father is right to name you as sweet as dates.”

“See? He’s more fun than you.”

Zain laughed, “Alright, alright, Princess. I know I’ve been neglecting you for these past few nights, but I am glad you’re making some friends. And thanks, Rafay, for keeping the Princess company.”

“The pleasure is mine, Your Highness. If you don’t mind, then I suppose I should excuse myself,” Rafay said, thinking that Zain would want to take care of the prince alone, but Zain had other things on his mind.

“I do mind, yes,” Zain said, stopping Rafay, “You have been a delight for Halim, I am sure he can attest to this, and you even stood to guard him all night. What a horrible host and liege I would be if I sent you home cold. What do you say, Halim, shall we go inside and maybe you can warm him a little?”

Halim was dressing quite scantily that night, with his upper body, though shirtless, decorated with jewelry from necklace, circlet, armband, and most of his upper chest was covered in flower-pattern henna. He was wearing a white thin see-through trouser from which you can see his undergarment was a makeshift blue thong made of a thin fabric.

Zain pulled the back string of the “thong” riding it up Halim’s ass until Halim had to stand on his toes stifling his moan, “I am sure you have a lot of fun teasing my counselor, Princess. But it is only right that you repay his kindness, don’t you think?”

“I don’t think that is necessary, Your Highness,” Rafay finally spoke up.

“No, Rafay, this is not an offer. This is an order from your liege,” Zain said as he kissed Halim on the lips from the back, “Halim wants to be part of my court, I think we need to utilize his best ASSets.”

Zain pushed Halim forward, his hands still wedging Halim’s thong, and pantsed the Prince with his free hand and tucked it under the asscheeks. He was showing Halim’s pert ass to Rafay, and to Rafay’s surprise, Halim arched his back and jiggled his butt without even using his hands. Zain then made Halim walk tip-toed into his tents while Rafay followed quietly behind them.

Once they were inside, they made their way to the lounging area inside the tent, and with Halim’s thong still in his hand, he said to Rafay, “Grab his ass.”

Rafay did not need to be told for the second time; his hands moved to each of the pert globes, squeezing them appreciatively, and spread them apart to see the tight hole being covered by the thin string. “One of the nicest ass I ever felt, but of course, I would expect that from the most beautiful Prince.”

Halim responded by flexing his ass more, prompting laughter and a gentle spank from Rafay.

They sat on a carpet laden with pillows, with a hookah sat in front of them, a couple of Greek slaves, owned by Rafay, waited closely attending to their needs, mainly filling their glasses with “meads”.

“I am craving Greeks,” Zain said when he ordered Rafay to summon a couple of his Greek slaves to serve them with a naughty glint in his eyes.

Rafay knew Zain was messing with him from the start since he knew Zain did not drink, but still, he humored him. If only his own slaves’ piss was all he had to drink. Zain also had him sampled their “milk”, and unlike how they’d commonly done it where the slaves would go to somewhere hidden and filled their glass, he had them pissed and jerked themselves right in front of Rafay, before serving Rafay their “mead”, sometimes mixed with the “milk, and some other time only “milk”. They would remain in their place, jerking their cock back to hardness at the sight of both Halim and Zain’s naked bodies, creating a sight that looked like a bunch of Greek men jerking their cocks off to Arab sluts.

Although he had enjoyed the “mead”, Rafay was still hesitant and wanted to refuse the “milk”. Alas, with Zain snuggling into the crook of his neck on his left and Halim snuggling his right while Rafay’s hands were both squeezing each of their ample-sized cake, he couldn’t do anything when Halim fed him a shot glass full of “milk”.

“Don’t be shy, Rafay, I know I won’t,” Zain said as he pulled Rafay closer to him by grabbing Rafay’s thobe-covered bulge and kissed his neck.

Rafay was far from shy. His middle finger went straight inside Halim’s ass up to the knuckle, forcing past the resistance and ignoring Halim’s sultry groan, making Halim move from lying on his side to lying with Halim’s stomach on Rafay’s legs, arching his fingered ass to their Greek audience. Meanwhile, his other hand moved to inhale a good amount of smoke from the hookah before yanking Zain’s head from his neck. He stared intently at Zain’s mischievous and excited stare as he blew the smoke slowly into Zain’s mouth, which sucked the smoke right away. They held their gaze, intently and sensually, before Zain blew the smoke slowly all over Rafay’s face, and before they sucked each other's faces.

The sight drove one of the Greeks to climax, and he was ready to fill Rafay’s glass with another shot of “milk”, but Rafay had another idea. Zain said for him to indulge himself, so that was what he intended to do when he moved Halim’s body upside down with his ass in the air and ordered the Prince to hold his legs, with his back against Rafay with his front facing the audience in front of them, jerking their cock furiously.

Halim was unsurprisingly flexible as he split his legs wide, opening the crevice of his ass like a crater, and held his legs when Rafay ordered the slave to cum on the crack. Of course, the slave was overjoyed that he got to cum on the prince’s ass.

When his “milk” was served on the ass-bowl, his large tongue lapped the milk like a hungry dog, seemingly forgetting the fact that he was aversive toward the “milk” just a few moments ago. He did not even notice Zain had moved in front of Halim, squatting and smothering Halim’s face with his balls, and pushed his tongue against Rafay, in a greeting manner, as he lapped the “milk” together with the man. Their tongues danced, creating a three-way make-out between Zain, Rafay, and Halim’s asshole, both of their tongue dancing with each other and drilling the hole together, and did not stop even when two slaves splashed their “beers” on their hair and faces. One in particular even aimed at Rafay’s mouth, drenching his shaved beard until it was glistening wet before giving Rafay’s neatly combed hair a golden shower. They only stopped when Rafay stood and undressed himself.

With an 8” cock in his hand, he looked down at Halim’s winking hole side by side with Zain’s handsome face, with a ravenous hunger and lust in his eyes. He slapped his thick cock at the ass wet from both piss and cum, splashing it around Zain’s face as they looked at each other silently, Zain with his hands playing with his nipples, and his cock was deep in Halim’s throat while Rafay teasingly nudging and pushing his cock on Halim’s hole. His eyes were asking permission from Zain, which he answered by sucking the cock into his mouth.

It was a surprise to Rafay, a pleasant one obviously, as he welcomed the contraction of Zain’s throat as the Sultan deepthroated his cock. The combination of the mouth suction and the throat massage made Rafay’s eyes roll to the back, another welcome surprise, as he moaned and groaned, imagining how good Zain’s bussy will be if his throat was that good. It was Rafay who was breathless when Zain pulled away, and when he looked down, Zain was proudly smirking at him, jerking his cock while positioning it right on Halim’s hole.

Rafay did not need to be told twice as he penetrated Halim’s hole, slow and steady, while his eyes remained on Zain’s. At some point, his hand moved on Zain’s neck, choking the man lightly as his Overlord looked up at him with a mischievous smile. Zain was not usually his type of lay; he was muscular as opposed to his fondness for more lithe men, and he loved a more feminine feature than Zain’s masculine, handsome face. But then again, his current paramour, his own Chief-of-Slaves, was not a paragon of twinks either, and in fact, Anton was the opposite of a twink. Maybe his type was changed when he fell for Anton, and yes, Rafay was mature enough to know his obsession with Anton was more than an ownership, but actual passion and, if he dared to say it, love. It seemed that after Anton, he had found a new appreciation for twunks and buff men.

Not that it mattered since he was fucking the slim-built Halim anyway.

He gave Halim a long stroke with his thick cock, pulling until his cock was completely out of Halim’s gaping hole before pushing it to the root with one push. It was a slow and long, gentle yet persistent push, letting both his cock and the hole savor the friction between the skin and the flesh. He let Halim feel and savor as his ass expanded and stretched to a new limit, as it reached and opened a new part inside his ass. Though Halim did not exclusively keep himself for Zain, he tried to be whenever he could. And Rafay made sure Halim knew, and would remember that the cock in his ass was not Zain’s. Halim would’ve moaned like a maniac from the sensation and the teasing, if his throat did not have Zain’s cock lodged in it.

Rafay maintained his long stroke for quite a while, and at one point, he “missed” his mark as his cock went straight into Zain’s mouth. He apologized, of course, but since Zain said to indulge himself and not be shy, Rafay’s hand went to the back of Zain’s head and held it there to keep Zain’s nose nuzzling his pubes. He let go of Zain’s head after a minute or so, and returned to fuck Halim, but his cock “missed” again a couple times after.

When he was getting close, Rafay held Zain’s head with both hands and laid it sideways next to Halim’s asshole as he jackhammered alternating between both holes. He finished with a final slam inside Halim. He pulled out and sank his cock into Zain’s mouth for cleaning before falling back on his ass, panting while Zain, with his cock still embedded inside Halim’s mouth, lay both Halim and his body properly in a 69 position.

Zain railed Halim’s mouth as he felched Rafay’s cum out of Halim’s ass, while the owner of the cum was smirking and laughing as he watched from the side with a glass full of fresh Greek “milk”. It was not long before Zain fed Halim his milk.

They rested for a while, and Rafay did excuse himself when they were preparing to tuck themselves in, but Zain insisted on his sleeping with them. He didn’t know why until he was woken up with Zain’s mouth on his dick, smirking as he looked down on the man.

“I told you I am craving some Greek mead,” He said with a glint in his eyes that made Rafay’s already full bladder burst out, hosing Zain’s throat.

Rafay went to the morning prayer with a pair of light balls, empty bladders, floating feet, and an extremely satisfied expression. It was confusingly obvious to everyone that Rafay was extra attentive that day toward Zain, and gifts suddenly appeared at Zain’s camp the next night, and the following nights. Of course, it was less surprising than when he found his brother’s Arshak, in Ghafari’s tent holding his legs to his shoulders on a table while Afgab felched him from below.

They hadn’t been talking because of that, and Afgab, who would flirt with Zain, went straight to sex. Not that Zain made it easy for them to talk, he kept laughing when he remembered how cute and shy both of them like he was catching them at a very embarrassing moment.

...

Hossam thought he had to spend the night alone that night.

He was sleeping on his stomach when he was woken up in the middle of the night to a weight on top of his back and a familiar phallus sliding inside his ass like matching sword and its sheath. He would never admit it, but he was ecstatic when he saw Oliver’s naughty smile looking even better with his wet hair and pent-up body. Oliver pulled Hossam’s shaved head back with one hand while his free hand spanked the muscle ass like he was galloping a horse as he began hammering Hossam’s ass with abandon. To onlookers, there was no more denying what Oliver did to Hossam, that was no massage, but a proper good dicking down. Out of the corner of his eyes, he watched as Khalid was jerking his cock at him. Instead of pushing Oliver away, Hossam used his hands to spread his asscheeks apart, swaying his hips to meet Oliver’s rhythm.

Oliver called Khalid beside him and kissed him on the mouth, “Look at this fucking muscles, so fucking big!” Oliver goaded.

“Fuck yeah! Look how big you make these babies!” Khalid flexed his biceps.

Unlike his dad, his body was a lot slimmer, which often made him look smaller, but his body was bricked up close and well-defined. Not a single fat found as Oliver ran his tongue over the biceps, the chest, the abs, the lats, even the ass, only hard muscle.

“Yeah, a body fit for a God!”

“Yeah? I am one of your Greek gods?” Khalid stroked another pose while Oliver stroked Khalid’s cock without stopping, rutting Hossam.

“Sculpted with perfection! Every single muscle, except for one.”

Khalid felt Oliver’s familiar finger creeping up into his ass as he jerked his cock even more furiously.

“Yes. I’ll sculpt this muscle too, perfect like your daddy’s mancunt! With the greatest gift the Man gives to mankind. Cock!” Oliver shoved two fingers at once, straight hitting Khalid’s prostate, and he mercilessly drilled his fingers into it.

Feeling a sudden wave of pleasure he had never felt before, like electrocution, from his ass that had been made so sensitive with the drugs and aphrodisiac oil that he could get hard from shitting, Khalid spasmed and groaned like a wild man while he spread his asscheeks as far as he could.

It was seconds after that he felt the pleasure he had never felt when he jerked off or even fucking someone, as all of the shivers numbed his body, and gathered intensely like an itch that was not only scratched, but electrocuted to satisfaction on his head and cock. His eyes rolled back as he contorted when he cummed hands free, while Oliver unloaded his inside Hossam.

He was loaded with cum, and without even a sign of resting, Oliver turned his body around with his cock still inside Hossam, and made out with the man before moving his hips again. He still had a lot of cum in the tank to unload.

How could he not after a whole day of edging thanks to the prickly with sweet ass Saif? When they caught up to the rest of the caravan who were mostly absent to watch Arshak’s marriage, Saif quickly ordered his men to pitch his tent in a quite secluded area from the rest of the caravan, even his own, while he rode both of them away to a farther place so Oliver could ran his tongue over his hole, without the escort of his guards. When they were back, Saif was no longer on his horse, or in his clothes, and his head was tied with his scarf that had been wrapped around Oliver’s cock like a rough circlet instead of a proper headress while his cock was tied painfully tight with the necklace with part of its cross resting inside of the cock slit. He crawled with his ass arching like a duck while Oliver crawled behind him, wearing Saif’s thobe, mouth still stuck to Saif’s ass.

To the guards, it looked like Saif made Oliver crawl on his knees from wherever they had been, and Saif was in full control, especially since Saif kept calling Oliver a good-for-nothing slave, threatened to shit in his mouth if he didn’t lick fast enough, and just being an asshole. They still thought of nothing weird when Saif suddenly stopped right beside them, giving them a full and close view of Oliver going to town with his asshole, even more enthusiastic, making Saif shiver, and he had to grab one of the guard’s shoulders. They were too distracted to notice Oliver sneakily pushing a pill into Saif’s asshole, and didn’t even notice when Oliver brazenly spread Saif’s asscrack flat like a dough, showing Saif’s dark star with the pill only half stuck inside. And before they could notice, Oliver pushed the pill fully with his tongue, the fifth that night, and puppeted Saif to walk inside.

Soon, Saif’s insults turned into loud moans and grunts followed by spanking sounds; the guards’ conviction not to look inside only lasted for a good few minutes before both of them sneaked a peek inside the tent. They saw their chief lying on his back, pulling and holding his legs by the thighs while the slave cuddled beside him, with his fingers reaching from under dancing in and out of Saif’s ass. It was the first time they clearly saw the chain necklace tied around Saif’s balls with a cross hanging between the balls. Oliver’s face was craned above Saif’s as they made out, and Oliver poured his saliva into Saif, who greeted it with an open mouth. They also saw with his free hand, the slave pulled out some pills from a bag and passed them to his other hand to be pushed inside Saif’s blooming-red ass. They thought nothing of it as they knew their Chief loved to take drugs for fun too.

Oliver was glad he managed to convince Saif to have his ass eaten in Oliver’s tent, and Saif was clearly on his guard, too. However, his ass was his Achilles heel, and he could only do so much until Oliver successfully slipped one pill inside, and then, the second one was easy to follow. And by a few hours after midnight, he had stuffed Saif’s ass with at least fifty pills. It might be overkill for some people, but he knew Saif’s body had a greater resistance to drugs.

Though it took Oliver great resolve to stop himself from fucking Saif right away, despite that it was the highest chance he would be able to, he wanted revenge for Saif edging him for a whole day, choking him, and basically for everything the man had done. He did not want to scratch that itch Saif felt; he wanted him to feel it until the itch rotted his brain, and the man would beg for his dick. The real reason was that he still feared for his life at the small percentage that Saif woke up and beat his ass.

When he pulled away from Saif, he looked proudly at the once cocky muscle man writhing naked like a worm while his fingers rubbed his asshole, moaning and groaning loudly, still feeling Oliver’s ghostly fingers and tongue.

He fucked and dumped his load inside Hossam with great satisfaction, knowing Saif would have a burning ass with nothing to scratch it and would wake up wishing he had let Oliver have his way with his ass.

The morning after, he was smiling from ear to ear, seeing that Saif was face down with his body arching his ass so high up his legs were straight at 75 75-degree angle. He watched as Saif reached behind, fingering his ass with his weak body.

Oliver spat on Saif’s face and tied the necklace around the cock tightly. He ran his tongue over the hole, eliciting a live from Saif’s body, as he pushed a couple of more pills inside Saif’s body. Then, he poured a catalyst concoction which he knew would burn Saif even more from the inside of the ass, and he watched as Saif’s groans slowly turned into a long howl as his body curled and bent in weird places. He laughed when Saif’s downturned cock jerked like it was cumming, but nothing came out thanks to the necklace’s chain. Saif groaned in frustration as his body contorted even more, forcing for the second cum, and yet again, nothing came out of his cock thanks to the necklace. Oliver slapped Saif’s cock around a few times before stepping back with cock in his hands, preparing for the final touch. Yellow, almost orangish piss hosed through his cock, showering Saif’s body, mainly his face and hair. He stopped his piss for a moment to push his cock head into one of Saif’s nostrils and blasted his foul morning piss into the nose, making Saif snort and choke on the piss. He laughed when he saw his piss coming out of Saif’s other nose and mouth. He knew there would be no water in sight for days ahead, and unless there was a rain, Saif would wear his morning piss as a perfume for the rest of the journey.

When Saif came to his senses, he didn’t even notice the smell. All he knew was the heat in his body, and he went straight to fuck his bois, smelling both sex and piss after, and couldn’t register why he couldn’t cum at all until the next day when he finally noticed the necklace choking his cock. He was frustrated, smelled like piss, humiliated, and days behind the rest of the caravan. He couldn’t even relieve himself when he finally untied the necklace without pulling out the cross from his ass, so with a great hatred and grudge, he rushed his caravan with the cross necklace scratching his ass as he rode his horse.

Saif knew exactly who he needed to take his anger out on, but Oliver maintained his distance from Saif. Close enough for the man to see him, but far enough not to be reached. The strong, pungent smell of piss radiating from his body made Saif’s movement limited as well. All he could do was to let his anger out on his bois, but even then, nothing compared to the orgasms Oliver gave him.

Oliver left Saif alone most of the time. Like a mouse who always found a moment to tease a cat, Oliver, too, always found moments to tease Saif about the pleasure he got that night. During prayers, at first, Saif stayed at the back, away from people, because of his smell, but during those prayers, when he was bending over or prostrating naked as customary for their prayers, he felt a familiar wet and rubbery feeling running over his asshole. He still had the resolve to continue his prayer like normal, and enjoyed the feeling on his ass, unconsciously arching his ass back and rapping his hole on the tongue, not even realizing the pills Oliver pushed inside his butt. Once he was done praying, he looked around and found no one except those who had prayed. He did, however, receive a Greek “milk”, a gift from Oliver when he was back at his tent. It was foul and salty, and a little bit gelatinous.

The prayers after that, once everyone began praying, Saif dropped right away to prostrate, and soon enough, he felt the tongue back on his hole, each time a little bit more aggressive than the last. As if they had agreed on a challenge within their silence, the tongue would do its best to make Saif moan, while Saif tried his best to repress his moans. It was never to the point of making Saif cum; whenever he almost reached the peak, the tongue expertly withdrew. He could hear a faint chuckle from behind him as he grunted and his legs involuntarily trembled. Every time, he found no one behind him, and every time, he found another glass of “milk” in his tent. Every time, he came back with a new hunger and burning itch inside his ass that was getting stronger each day, not realizing Oliver had fed his ass with drugs 5 times a day during his prayers.

Often, he had sent one of his men to fetch the slave, but they often came back empty-handed, stating that Oliver was busy massaging Hossam and/or his son, Khalid. They also noted, curiously, that the Berbers were dominating the Sinai clan’s camp, as if protecting it, and the men seemed to be close to the Greek slaves and often seen walking shoulder to shoulder and hand to waist. The absence of Sinai men themselves was the one that made Saif send his men to infiltrate the camps, and the spies came back the next day, crawling pantsless, with their dick red and used.

The reports came as a surprise to Saif. The Sinai men had been “transformed” into nothing but drugged human barrels where their so-called “mead” came from, while the Berbers, as the earlier report had suggested, began patrolling the area for safety as per Zain’s order, apparently. The Berber had become so close with the Greek slaves that they did every menial job for them, like making their tents, cooking, manual labor, and even errand jobs. The spy also noted the Berber often had a public massage gathering in one of the Greek tents, taking interest in their Chief’s new hobby, and experiencing it for themselves. The spies were curious and wanted to check this “massage” for themselves, but they masked it as a ploy to fool the Greeks and Berbers in their report. The spies had their cock milked, and their asshole were given ass-trench tissue tongue double fingers special massage, and remained silent about cock-deep massage with extra protein injection they received at the end.

Saif would’ve confronted Zain himself if not for the pungent smell of piss in his body, and he would’ve come to Oliver himself if he was not too proud to look for a slave. He hated to admit it, but Oliver had managed to keep him both on his toes and his knees spreading his asscheeks for his tongue 5 times a day at every prayer, and each passing day the itch in his ass intensified.

To the very last day, they arrived at the city of Trebizond.

The citizens gathered at the gate, looking at the Arab men gathered on the horizon marching with their camels and horses, thousands of slaves, and a parade helm by the Caliph himself. Stood on a grand red chariot pulled by massive black slaves, were two Greek slaves dressed like a Greek God, laurels on their head in contrast to the Caliph's massive Arabic headdress with jewelry and feathers hanging on it. While the slaves on each of his sides were dressed in a white toga with armband and anklet, Hazim was naked from the waist up, and as the Caliph entered the town and they finally could catch a glimpse of his behind, he was naked below the waist save for the eagle gold ornament tied with a belt that looked like it was pecking into the Caliph’s asscrack.

---

Note from author:

I am back with a new chapter for Rum! And also the Kingdom of Francia, if you’d be so kind as to read that as well. But anyway! I am so sorry for the delay, I can’t believe I missed the opportunity to release this chapter during Ramadhan lol

Anyway, we finally get to see Zain indulge himself a little bit in this chapter, and as you can see, there is a little bit more of a fantasy element involved in this chapter (and also the last one, technically). I do plan this world to only be a light fantasy, and I do want the Rum story to be a bit more mystical and show the more “magical” side of the world that I built. But don’t worry, the core of this story is still rooted in domination and submission! Finally, in the next chapter, we’ll arrive in Trebizon! I am very excited!

Lastly, if you like my works and want to donate/tip, you can do so at my Ko-Fi page; my kittens and I truly appreciate it. https://ko-fi.com/gantengask