Seraglio [Fantasy] [MF]

King Kevin is reading the news — Chinese authorities have just cracked down on dissidents demonstrating in Tiananmen Square — when a voice comes over the intercom: “Ms. Hopkins is here to see you, Your Majesty.”

The king holds down the button on his desk and says, “Send her in, please.”

Lisa Hopkins, mid-thirties, is dressed in a pink wide-shouldered blazer, short plaid pleated skirt and white pussycat-bow blouse. She comes in the door and curtsies in front of him. “Your Majesty, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, Ms. Hopkins, thank you for coming. I know you have a motion before the House this afternoon so I’ll try not to take too much of your time. Please have a seat.” He motions to a chair across the desk from him. “I wanted to talk to you about some thoughts I’d had regarding my residential apartments here in the palace. As someone who has visited several times, I thought you might have some insights.”

Lisa gives a sly smile. “Your Majesty, considering the activities we’ve undertaken during those visits, I think you should feel free to use my first name.”

The king sighs. “Yes, but our relationship inside the audience chamber is, er, special to that place, and I didn’t want to presume a personal familiarity outside the chamber that we don’t have.”

Lisa shakes her head. “Your Majesty, your assumption of office was rushed, and I think your briefings may not have been as thorough as they should have been. King Jason did establish a custom of royal service that is similar to how we perform service to citizens. But that’s all it is, a custom.” Lisa smiles slyly again, stands and begins unbuttoning her blazer. “Our service to you isn’t limited to a time and place in the way that our citizen service is.” She removes her blazer, sets it on the chair, and begins unbuttoning her blouse as well. “We owe you our allegiance at all times” — she removes the blouse and begins undoing her brassiere clasps — “and you may command our service whenever you wish.”

She removes the brassiere and, topless, moves to stand behind the desk, next to the king. Bemused, he turns toward her, enjoying the sight of her small but rounded breasts, and her pink nipples. He allows her to turn his chair toward her and unzip his fly. “Your Majesty, I am one of two hundred women who have the right to rule New Dorset. This is an awesome power and it comes with many responsibilities.”

Lisa kneels, fetches his penis from his pants and strokes it, moving her hands up and down, and rubbing her fingers lightly around the glans. Looking up at his face, she says, “One of those responsibilities is to provide service to you. It’s a terrible thing, Your Majesty, for us to feel that we’ve neglected an important duty.” Lisa takes his penis into her mouth and stimulates it with her lips and tongue; it is not long until it is completely erect.

She then rises from the floor, puts her hand inside her skirt and pulls down her underwear. She then hikes her skirt up, straddles the king on his chair, and using her hand, inserts his penis into her vagina. She spreads her skirt down over the both of them and begins moving up and down on his penis. The king discards whatever other thoughts he’d had and begins licking first one of Lisa’s nipples, then the other.

She continues riding him until he reaches climax. After his orgasm, Lisa looks down at him, smiling contentedly, and says, “Your Majesty, being able to fulfill our responsibilities gives us great satisfaction and peace of mind. I hope you won’t needlessly limit our ability to serve you. Thank you for allowing me this opportunity. And, please, Your Majesty, call me Lisa.”

The king just sits there for a few moments, recovering. Eventually he says, “Ok, Lisa it is then.”

Still with his penis inside her, she says, “Thank you, Your Majesty. Now, what was it you wanted to discuss?”

The king takes another moment to collect himself; this is not how he had envisioned having the conversation. “Well, er, Lisa, I wanted to talk to you about my apartments. I’ve been surprised at how many women, like you, have asked to stay overnight, without a summons from me. I haven’t wanted to turn anyone away, but that’s meant that often several women share the audience chamber with me. I do my best to, er, allow them all an opportunity to serve, but I think it must be very awkward for you to wait your turn, or once you’re done, to try to get some sleep in the same room.

“So, I started thinking about the extra space that was left over when the House of Lords got its new building. What if we used it for a dormitory for MPs from the provinces? It wouldn’t be so awkward to have to share, and wouldn’t necessarily require you to serve me just to have a place to stay …”

The king stops speaking as he realizes Lisa has begun shaking in silent laughter. Between feeling her pelvic muscles squeezing and releasing and seeing her breasts bouncing, his consternation at her laughter is tempered by his renewed arousal. “Um… okay, what did I miss?”

Lisa’s laughter becomes audible as it tapers off. “Oh, Your Majesty, with all due respect you have completely and utterly missed the point.” She laughs again and gives him a quick kiss on the lips. “MPs from the provinces get a housing allowance, and in a pinch we all have a couch or cot or something to sleep on in our offices. Nobody comes to your audience chamber to sleep!

“Your Majesty, you are a king, and we are a group of women who serve you sexually.” To emphasize this she clenches her pelvic muscles around his penis again. “That makes us your actual, real-life, genuine *harem*. Coming to your audience chamber and fucking you, and watching each other fuck you, gives us the opportunity to live out our harem fantasies for real. I don’t know how many women have those fantasies; maybe most don’t. But the kind of women who will agree to have twenty random guys have sex with us every month, and be willing to service you at your command, so we can be MPs? More than a few. Being one of several women in your audience chamber isn’t awkward, it’s incredibly fucking hot. And you want to put us in *dorm rooms*!” Lisa laughs again.

The king says just “Oh.” He sits for a minute, lost in thought. “Harem fantasies… well if that’s what you want …” He can feel himself get hard again inside her.

—-

Melissa texts her friend Gemma.

[OMG got another royal summons. friday @ 17]

[again? new king is fillin all ur holes… in ur schedule]

[ew gross]

Melissa puts her phone down and looks again at the letter. In addition to the language about the time and place, the letter says, “After the audience, please be prepared to accept a place in the royal household.” She texts Gemma again.

[it says something about “accept a place in the royal household” WTF?]

[? no idea]

Melissa calls the royal chamberlain’s office and asks what the summons means.

“The king will explain after the audience, Ms. O’Connor.”

“Can’t you tell me anything? The king isn’t offering me some kind of job, is he? I don’t know what it’s all about.”

“It will all be explained on Friday, Ms. O’Connor.”

Melissa gives up.

On Friday, she heads to the palace. The chamberlain’s staff are no more communicative, so she ends up in the audience chamber, kneeling in a perfectly sheer service robe, waiting for the king. She can see herself in the mirror, slim with light skin, long straight auburn hair, breasts just big enough that she decided against implants when she was younger, and very pink nipples.

The king enters and begins the ritual. “Declare yourself.”

“Greetings, Your Majesty. I am Melissa O’Connor, member of the House of Representatives for Taylorville-Thames, here at your summons. How may I serve you?”

“Hello, Melissa. I’m very glad to have you here again.”

Despite herself, she feels a small thrill at his words; he was of course chosen as king party because he is very attractive, and she can’t help but be influenced by that, and the mystique of royalty.

She collects herself. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I must admit some puzzlement at the summons. A place in your household? Does that mean in the chamberlain’s office? I can’t imagine wanting to give up my seat in the House for any staff position, Your Majesty.”

The king laughs. “No, Melissa, it’s not a job. It’s something else.” He looks down at her. “Please stand.” She does, keeping her head bowed. The king comes close to her and lifts her chin up so she is looking into his eyes. “You are one of the most beautiful women I have ever known.” He kisses her deeply.

Melissa is in a whirl of mixed emotions — pleased by his praise, shocked at his intimacy, gratified by his regard, aroused by his ardor, enamored by his virility. She has been cautioned time and again against emotional attachment when she provides service, and until now, she has avoided it. But with the king… She is too conflicted to speak.

The king reaches for her sheer robe and pushes it off her shoulders to fall to the floor. He then lets his own robe fall; they are both nude. He takes her hand, leads her to the bed, and motions for her to lie down.

Melissa is relieved to be returning to what she thinks of as normal service. She lies down and spreads her legs; she knows she’s aroused enough to receive him. But he lies next to her instead.

He kisses her on the lips, quickly this time. He then proceeds with kisses down her body: her chin, neck, between her breasts, on her stomach down to her navel, and on to her mound. He stops just shy of her cleft and moves back to her breasts, sucking one nipple and squeezing the other in his fingertips.

Melissa has become very aroused. “Please, sir, fuck me now,”she says, too distracted to use the proper address. The king obliges her, getting on his knees, lifting her legs up, and entering her gently before beginning to pump hard into her. Before long he reaches orgasm. He withdraws from her, and after a moment moves his face to her sex, inserts a finger into her vagina, and moves it in and out while using his lips and tongue on her clitoris. Soon she, too, climaxes. He moves up to lie beside her and pulls her to lie in his arms.

Melissa is feeling awkward again. The king is treating her less like a provider of service and more like a lover. And yet his arms are comforting… she dozes off for a minute.

She is woken by the king. “Come, Melissa. It is time to show you what we mean by a place in my household.” He indicates that Melissa should rise, and she does; the king follows suit. He then leads her through the door out of the audience chamber into the king’s residence; she is conscious that they are still both nude.

The king brings her down a short passageway and through a double door. Melissa enters and is taken aback. They are standing on a balcony overlooking a huge chamber, the size of a large gymnasium, with walls of gold filigree and white marble. Skylights set in domes on the ceiling let in the golden evening light. She can see the tops of lush tapestries hung along the walls. Planters on the walls and pots on the ground bring sprays of green leaves and flowers of all colors. Melissa murmurs, “it’s beautiful…”

As she gets closer to the edge of the balcony, she can begin to see down into the chamber itself, through the gold-colored bars of the railing. At the far end of the room there is a pool, and she can see that several women are enjoying it. Closer to her the floors are covered with plush carpets. She can see women sitting in sumptuous armchairs or sofas, reading or looking at screens; one is knitting. Two women sit at a table, playing a board game. All the women appear to be nude or wearing nothing but sheer lingerie. Now that she can see the tapestries, she realizes that they, the paintings that are hung closer to the floor, and also the carpets, depict nude female forms.

The king steps over to the edge of the balcony. He picks up a telephone handset, presses a button, and speaks into it: his voice is amplified to be heard throughout the room. “Odalisques, come welcome your sister.” The women rise from what they are doing and assemble at the base of the balcony; assembled she can see there are about a dozen of them. Melissa is surprised to find she knows some of them, members of Parliament and local politicians, although she also recognizes a prominent actress and a director of an environmental nonprofit.

Melissa turns to the king. “Your Majesty, I don’t understand.”

“Come, Melissa, let us join the others and we will explain.” He leads her down stairs from the balcony to the chamber floor. When she gets there, each of the women gives her a hug and says “Welcome, Melissa.” At first Melissa is bashful about their common nudity, but this does not last.

When the hugs are complete, the king speaks again. “Melissa, welcome to your new home. In my role as monarch I meet, and am served by, many women. But some, like you, are very special — of great beauty, yes, but also with other great qualities like talent, intellect, or wisdom. My predecessors built this place so that, in return for serving your king and bringing him pleasure, women like you can enjoy this special retreat from the world’s cares.

“This is the palace seraglio, the women’s quarters, and you are now one of my odalisques, the women who live here. This place was built as a hideaway, separate from the cares of the world, where you can stop worrying about the world outside and just concentrate on pleasure and relaxation.

“I’m sure you have a thousand questions. I have asked your sister Angela to sit with you and explain your new life. Thank you, Melissa, for joining us here. I’ll leave you with Angela now.”

Melissa realizes the king means Angela Luxton, who was recently made Minister of Finance. Melissa knows Angela from Parliament, so the a familiar face gives her some reassurance. Angela comes forward and says, “Thank you, Your Majesty. Melissa, if you’ll come with me, I’ll explain everything.”

As the others disperse, Angela leads Melissa over to a deep sofa with a high, padded back. Melissa glances at Angela’s body, everything visible through sheer fabric, as they walk over.

Angela sits on the sofa and motions Melissa to sit beside her. Melissa says, “Minister, I—“

Angela interrupts. “Melissa, please, we don’t use titles in here, except the king’s. In here I’m just Angela. Please, come sit down.” Melissa sits on the sofa beside Angela. “I know you don’t understand what’s going on. The king enjoys keeping things mysterious and it must be disconcerting. Come here,” she says, and she has Melissa move to lean back against her. She then puts her arms around Melissa, holding her from behind. “Comfortable?”

Melissa is comfortable, and even though she doesn’t know her all that well, can’t help but be comforted by Angela’s embrace. She murmurs affirmatively.

“Okay. So as of today, you have joined the king’s household an odalisque. We odalisques live here and provide service to the king. Of course, all elected officials owe service to the king when they are summoned, as you’ve already done before tonight. But we do more than that.

“Our role is to serve the king in whatever way he wishes, to bring him pleasure and happiness. Of course, that means sexual pleasure, but it also means togetherness, devotion, and whatever other service the king requires. We’re his lovers, his companions and his confidants.

“In return for our service to him, which I can tell you is pleasant, we live a life of luxury and privilege. The seraglio is our sanctuary, a place of peace and relaxation. As you’ve seen, the main hall is a profoundly beautiful place; time spent there is joyous. If we prefer, we can retire to the sleeping rooms, or use the library, video theater, music room, or fitness rooms.

“While we live here, we have the full use of the king’s resources and staff. They meet our physical needs and pamper us to the best of their ability. We can order anything from the royal kitchen or wine cellars. If we want a massage, spa treatments, beautician or esthetician services, fitness training, yoga instruction, art and craft supplies or instruction, these are all available. The staff does their best to accommodate any other desires we have while we’re here.

“We don’t have to stay here all the time. Although some of us prefer to spend most of our time in the seraglio, that’s not typical. As you can see, many of us are MPs, and it’s understood that not only are we very busy working in Parliament and fulfilling our citizen service obligations, but that we have to travel back to our constituencies as well. Other odalisques also have full-time jobs, or they come and go for other reasons. The only obligation is that when we are in the capital, we stay here overnight, or in our infirmary.

“And, at any point, you can choose to give up your place in the king’s household; it’s not part of your obligation as an elected official. All of us, especially the king, would be very disappointed if you did that. And I think in the end you would be sorry too. But it is your right.

“Now tell me, is that all understandable? Is there something I haven’t made clear?”

Melissa thinks for a bit. “Well, I didn’t really think the king meant to keep me against my will, but I still don’t understand what it means to be an odalisque. I thought an odalisque was a kind of painting. Like that one,” she indicates a painting on the wall, of a nude woman on her side.

Angela chuckles. “Ah, well kind of. There are lots of paintings of odalisques, but the word itself refers to the woman in the picture. An odalisque is a concubine who lives in a harem. Of course, in some sense under Sexual Equity all of us in elected office are the king’s concubines.

“I love being an odalisque; I feel desired by the man who leads our country, who more than anyone else could have anyone he wants. I feel very special. I share a deep bond of sisterhood with a group of very accomplished women. And living in the seraglio is very comfortable and enjoyable. I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I’m so happy for you that you will get to have it too.

“But it does come with obligations. In general, most of those only apply when we’re actually here in the seraglio, not when we’re outside. The only more general obligations are that we spend our nights here in the seraglio when we’re not traveling, and that we don’t form serious romantic relationships. There’s no expectation of sexual exclusivity, even aside from our service obligation. But we’re expected to keep the king uppermost in our minds, and not enter into any serious relationships that could threaten our relationships with the king. Also, we shouldn’t discuss anything that happens inside with people outside, although we do let people know we live in the palace.

“When we’re here, inside the seraglio, we have a much stricter set of obligations. While we’re inside, we belong to the king. The original meaning of ‘odalisque’ was ‘slavegirl.’ We are not slaves here, because we are always free to leave. But while we are here, we are his to do with as he wishes. If he desires it, we are toys to be played with, baubles to be beheld. If he wants us, he can have us, and we need to be prepared at all times to provide service to him — sexual service or anything else he may desire.”

Melissa is a little alarmed by this. “What if the king wants something I don’t want? Can the king tie us up? Keep us in a cage? Hurt us? Where does the line get drawn?”

Angela briefly makes her embrace a little tighter. “Don’t worry. The one fundamental rule is that you can leave anytime you like. So, if you’re not into whatever the king wants to do, you can always go. And, of course we come and go all the time. So, if the king wants something you don’t want, you can always take a break. But my experience is that the king hasn’t been interested in pain, or anything rough. I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve spent with the king. Didn’t you enjoy it, when you were with him just now?”

Melissa’s instinct is to be coy, but she tamps that down. “Yes, I did. And, um… I would like to do it more. Are you with him often?”

“Sexually? Maybe once a week, at most, for now. It’s hard to say how it will all shake out. Only two of us remained in the seraglio after King Jeremy abdicated, and although with you we’re up to fourteen, that still leaves fourteen empty places. The king is looking to fill them, so he’s holding audiences with women to see if he thinks they’re suitable, and that takes time away from us. On the other hand, for now, there are fewer of us to share him.

“But the king is often in here for other reasons, eating with us, watching movies in our theater, playing games, or just conversing. We owe him that service too.

“The other thing you need to know is that inside the seraglio, we adhere to a code of appearance and behavior that is reminiscent of the harems of legend, like in the odalisque painting over there. This is partially to remind us of our duty to the king, and to make ourselves alluring for him, but it’s also for our own benefit — the code helps us preserve the sense of the seraglio as a place removed from the world, outside of time, a place of relaxation, leisure, and luxury. It also reinforces our loyalty to each other.

“In the seraglio, we renounce privacy and modesty — we give up the idea that we can have anything to hide from the king, or from our sister odalisques. The most obvious part of this is the dress code. Maybe you’d call it an undress code. If we wear clothes at all, they have to be clothes that that demonstrate our openness and availability. Specifically, the clothes must leave the nipples and pussy clearly visible, and they must not obscure the lines of the body. In practice that means we either wear something very sheer, like my dress, or some kind of tight lingerie with openings in the right places. Often we find it easier just to remain nude, but if in the future you’d rather not, the staff can help you find something you enjoy wearing.

“And in general we don’t have privacy inside the seraglio. The king or any odalisque is free to enter any room at any time. Most rooms have windows out to the great hall, without blinds or curtains, and people can see in. Sleeping rooms are shared. At the same time, you needn’t feel embarrassed about anything you do here. We have no secrets from each other. You can be comfortable with your sexuality in here, and if when the king’s not available you want to indulge with other odalisques, or on your own, whichever you prefer, that’s something we all encourage. And if you would rather not do anything, that’s fine too. As a minister with a 30-a-month citizen service obligation, I get quite enough sex already.

“The other way we adhere to the tradition of the harem is that the seraglio is a place of leisure, set apart from the world. We do not work here, and while we’re inside we do not communicate with the outside world. We converse, we play games, we read books, we do art or craft, we exercise in the fitness rooms. We do have facilities for modern media — we have a theater for watching video, a listening room for music, and we have tablet computers that can be used for media of all kinds, but they’re not set up for sending or receiving messages.

“Between the seraglio and the palace’s residence entrance there are a series of anterooms where the codes do not apply. That is where, if we need to, we can use a computer, make a telephone call, or do other kinds of work that are not appropriate in the seraglio. The infirmary is there, and also, we have spaces there where we keep our clothes and personal items. In general, we don’t bring our personal items here into the seraglio, since it ruins that sense of timelessness, although there are exceptions.

“But we don’t get the benefits of being inside when we’re in the anterooms — no services from staff, for example. And they’re plain, functional rooms, not the lovely spaces we have here.”

Angela holds her tightly one more time. “How are you feeling about this? Do you have any more questions?”

“I’m still… I still don’t know. I guess it’s OK? It’s all so much.”

“Sure. I understand. A few hours ago, you had no idea this was happening, and now it seems like it’s happened whether you wanted it or not. The king put you on his list of odalisques, and that made you one without your even knowing it. But Melissa, I promise, it’s not an ambush, it’s a surprise party. Being an odalisque has been the best thing that ever happened to me. I have companionship, sisterhood, and live a life of luxury. And I’m still able to serve in one of the most important jobs in government. You can have that too, if you’re okay with it. Okay?”

Melissa presses her lips together before saying, “Okay. I’m okay…. I’m ready. I’m an odalisque.”

Angela gives a big smile. “I’m so glad. Stand up, let me look at you.” Melissa stands in front of Angela, conscious once again of her nudity.

“The next step is for you to wear our insignia.” Angela points down to her mound, underneath her sheer dress, and for the first time, Melissa notices that on Angela’s skin, just above her vulva, there is an image: in gold on a black background, an outline of a crown, and inside the crown, a pointed oval inscribed in a circle. “We all wear them as a sign of devotion to His Majesty. Don’t worry, they’re not permanent; if we don’t reapply them every couple of weeks they fade away.” She goes over to the wall where there is a telephone handset.

Melissa looks puzzled. “I thought we couldn’t call from in here.”

“These are used just to ask for something from staff, or for making announcements. You can’t call out on these.” Angela picks it up, presses a button and speaks into it. “We’re ready for the insignia now. Thank you.” To Melissa, she says “A staff member will come; don’t be surprised. They’re committed to discretion and are used to working in here.”

An older woman dressed in black pants and shirt comes up, with a basket of supplies. She professionally applies a transfer to Melissa’s mound. As she is holding the damp cloth to let it set, Angela says, “If you want, you can have a permanent tattoo done, which saves having to redo this all the time. But that’s a little much for your first day.”

The staff member finishes, dries Melissa off, and leaves. Melissa looks down at herself, at the mark she bears, and feels… committed. This is her life now.

Angela says, “Melissa, you are so beautiful, especially without hiding yourself in clothes. The insignia is really stunning against your light skin. I’m so glad the king chose you.

“Now we’re ready to have the king formally ask you to accept your place, in front of the other odalisques. All you have to say is ‘Yes, Your Majesty.’ Are you ready to do that?” Melissa nods. Angela says, “I’m glad.” She goes back to the handset. She presses a button, and her voice is heard over the loudspeakers. “Everyone, Melissa is ready now.”

Angela hangs up and leads Melissa back toward the base of the balcony, where they had gathered before. All the odalisques come from around the seraglio, and the king comes down the stairs. She cannot help noticing that he is still nude.

The king begins a recitation. “Melissa, do you accept your place in my household, to live in the seraglio as an odalisque and as and a sister to the other odalisques? Do you accept your role as my lover, friend, companion, and confidant? Do you pledge to honor the codes of appearance and behavior, and while you are here, renounce privacy and modesty, and accept the leisure and luxury that this place offers you? Do you pledge to give yourself to me, fully and unreservedly, whenever you are here, and to hold the secrets of this place when you leave it?”

Melissa can only say, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Then, once again, Melissa, welcome to your new life.” He approaches her, holds her in his arms, and kisses her. “Come upstairs, and we will again consummate our new relationship.” He takes her hand and leads her upstairs, and she notices now what she hadn’t seen before, a couch in front of the barred railing of the balcony. He lies back on the couch, his arousal growing, and says “Ride me, Melissa, ride me and show yourself to your sisters.” She gets on top of him and sits, holding his penis inside her, and begins to move up and down. She can feel his penis getting even harder inside her, and she becomes more and more aroused herself as she looks down and sees her insignia, black background dark against her skin. “Touch yourself, Melissa, and come for me.” She reaches down with one hand and rubs her clitoris, while the king reaches up and holds her breast. At last it is enough, and she cries out in orgasm.

From the floor below, her sisters applaud. Angela shouts “Brava!”

Later that night, lying in bed, listening to the soft breathing of her sisters as she waits for sleep to overtake her, Melissa wishes she could talk to Gemma about everything that’s happened. She knows that would be against her pledge to hold the seraglio’s secrets. Maybe she’ll suggest to the king that Gemma would also make a good odalisque.

Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/f72e9l/seraglio_fantasy_mf