The Body Slave (M/F)

I am a warrior. My face, beautiful as it is, is not my weapon. My eyes, passionate bottomless pools though they be, are not my weapon. My full round breasts and my perky nipples…my succulent hips, the moist pit between my legs…my mind; all these are useless to me. My only true weapon is your body. My name is Yasmine Al Hamzad and I am a body slave in the employ of Sultan Hameed Kazeem the God King. May the gods damn his soul.

I wasn’t always a body slave. In another life, I was “The rose of Sumeedan”, “light of the North” and the promised of Sudiq El Hamzri The Third. Those days are long gone, as I am reduced to my present state. all I have now is my history, your body, and a glimmer of a plan conjured from a soup of sweaty nightmare filled nights and days of despair.

I will start by telling you my plan simple as it is. I plan to kill the the god king.

I might have been a wee bit misleading when i described my plan as simple. The sultan is the most well guarded man in all of Sumeedan, few even know what his face looks like, dressed always in a mask of gold, bearing the visage of the god king Elamash, he radiates pure power. At first the people believed he would be struck dead by the gods for such blasphemy, now he is hailed openly as the god king reborn.

There are only two times when the god King is “accessible” to the people. at the festival of rebirth, and during the body games, The festival of rebirth presents no window of opportunity to me. The ceremony is carried out away from the public eye, deep within the holy halls of the Lamaen temple. Rumors abound as to what actually goes on during the ceremony, The god king steps into the fires of creation and his old skin sloughs off as he is reborn? He ascends into the heavens and falls back down to earth with the first rains? No one knows and i could give a bloody Kusht for all that it mattered. No one would interrupt the festival of rebirth, his whereabouts are no secret during the festival but any attempts on his life are doomed to fail. That leaves me with the Rahaz esh ghul, “the body games”. The body games is my only shot, and while the plan i have is a load of kusht, being a body slave has taught me that sometimes kusht is all you need. Take for instance this distasteful piece of flesh beneath me at the moment.

Naked except for a strip of cloth around his eyes Legaté Krum was tied to the bedpost, I never could tell if the makeshift mask around his eye was a sexual affectation or an actual attempt at anonymity, It wouldn’t surprise me if the latter was the case, The Legate seemed the sort of man who’d believe that a small strip of silk on his face with two holes cut out for his eyes rendered him unrecognizable, I chose not to dispel this fantasy, the bruise to his ego wasn’t worth the planning and effort I’d put into whoring my way up the five floors of the imperial harem.

I let the tourniquet style choker around his neck loosen for a bit, and he sucks in air in huge noisy gulps, his puffy face visibly reddened by blood flowing back into his head, i’d let him get a little too close to passing out, partly because i was worn out from the day’s activities: the harem is usually closed this time of the day but people like Krum always get a pass, I also got a light thrill from the very real fear in his eyes. I keep hold of the choker with one hand while i unbutton his robe with the other, my hold on the choker allows me control the flow of blood to his brain, his restricted passageway forces him to take deeper breaths, his heart beats faster and harder to push blood through his constricted blood vessels, he is probably also a bit lightheaded. Exactly how i want him, unable to distinguish between the effects of slight oxygen deprivation and sexual arousal.

He’d asked that i dress as a physick tonight so i know what game we are playing, I swallow my distaste and even manage a sultry smile as i stroke his member through his underwear, the weight of his fat sweaty stomach resting on my arm.

“Does it hurt” i asked in a low murmur.

His pitiful nod is almost enough to make me puke.

I adopt a look of semi-professionalism, and bend lower as if to further examine the area. His sharp intake of breath as i hook my finger in his pants and pull almost cause me to snicker, i pull his underwear just low enough that i can see a hint of pubic hair and move my tongue to the fold of skin where his inner thigh meets the inside of his pelvis and begin to softly kiss him, i can feel his thigh muscles tense in response to my ministrations, i pull his underwear lower as i begin to lick and gently suck on his skin, I slowly drift lower and lower still until my tongue just grazes the beginning of his hard shaft, as I begin to kiss lazy circles around it he chokes and grabs for my hand at his neck, i cease teasing him and give him the most innocent of looks. It’s a competition you see, the lower i go, the tighter the tourniquet around his neck, at five foot three my hands can only stretch so far.

“Let me make it better” i whisper.

I let go of the collar and it goes completely slack, the skin under it is red and raw, i make a mewling sound as i slowly caress his neck, the adoration in his eyes as he looks up at me is almost unbearable, i bend and trail kisses along the swath of flesh marked by the choker, I let my tongue dart out and run along the path my hands blaze on his abused and sensitive skin. He tastes of sweat and old smoke, probably from all the incense he burns to Elamesh. still seated on his thighs I turn around and push his underwear all the way down, his pink throbbing manhood almost hits me in the face, and then I’m past it as i stretch out in full against his body, i can feel his manhood pulsing softly against my stomach through the sultry physick garb i have on.

I reach for his feet and grab them right under the arch, there is nothing sexual in my touch as i massage the arch and then the pads of his feet in smooth strong flowing movements, the involuntary groan that escapes his throat is all the reward i need for my deeds, fat people love a good foot massage, don’t get me wrong i understand that everyone loves a good foot massage, fat people unlike most actually need it, especially if like the Legate, they spend most of the day on their feet.

I can feel him begin to relax into the flow of my movements so i let go of his feet and close my mouth around his big toe, i arch my back and spread my legs across his thighs, i feel him buck as he pushes his ass off the sheets in a desperate bid to reach my lush pussy with his manhood, I ignore him and focus instead on his toe, i graze it roughly with my teeth a few times to get the blood to rise to the surface of the skin, i then proceed to suck gently on it, i treat it like it’s a god, i am a pagan and it is my idol, i run my tongue up and then down its length. i hold the base firmly as i suck and stroke it with my other hand, from his involuntary groans and the repeated gyrations of his hips i can tell he wishes it was a different member altogether, I play against his needs as i gather spittle in the back of my throat and spit on his toe, i let it slide down the back of his feet while i resume slowing sucking and stroking his toe. Call me a daemon but i’m beginning to enjoy myself a little, i run my teeth against the skin of his toe again and something akin to a sob escapes his throat at the same time he thrusts violently upward, he is rewarded for his aggression as his swollen glans penetrates my vulva, my wetness pushes his arousal to greater heights. He strains against his bonds as he bucks with renewed vigor, despite his efforts he can get no further down my wet vagina, I wait until his endurance begins to flag and he starts to slow and then slam my pussy down the length of his shaft as he thrusts upwards, Sweet Gilbert! I almost see stars from the explosion of feeling that travels up my stomach and down my thighs, I smile at the guttural sound that escapes his throat, re-energized he renews his desperate bucking, i lift my ass to deprive him of all but the tip of his shaft, i egg him on whenever his fervor flags by blessing the entire length of his manhood with my glorious wetness, we settle into this macabre dance of need versus endurance. I don’t have to wait long before he is begging, i feel his need for release in the hard warmth of his manhood between my thighs, and then i calmly lift myself off him and walk to the window, the groan that escapes his lips is all the satisfaction i need and by Lamaen probably all the satisfaction i will get from him tonight, but i am playing for greater stakes than the feel of the Legate’s cum dripping down my throat. I ignore his slowly pulsing almost limp cock, its size somewhat less respectable now that is not engorged with blood. With the full moon just outside my window highlighting my curves and accentuating the sharp aristocratic lines of my face, i know i cut a striking figure.

“What do you want” he asks.

I turn around to face him, eyes downcast, fiddling with my middle finger. A far cry from the confident woman who had been toying with one of the most powerful men in the kingdom just minutes ago. I shuffle over to his bonds and untie them, while he sits up and rubs at his chafed neck and hands, i slide next to him and put a hand on his thigh like one might an intimate friend, i let the nails of my finger mistakenly brush the cap of his cock, his aroused response is immediate and clearly out of place in this serious atmosphere i have created. He face is a stern mask but i can tell that all he really wants to do is cum. This is a very unwelcome interruption to our usual activities. I lift my face up to his, look him straight in the eye and say.

“Choose me”

He clearly knows what I’m talking about, entrants into the “body games” are chosen by direct instruction from the gods, which is big load of Kusht, in reality the Legate or men in his employ do the choosing. i can see him do the maths in his head, say no to me and never have sex this good in his life again, or say yes and lose me for a fortnight. It’s an easy choice to make and he slowly nods in acquiescence. Tears slip down my face as i bow to him, except i go lower and lower still until, my lips graze his cock. I’m not surprised to find it already hard, To men like the Legate power is like a drug, and exercising that power over the future of others is way more arousing than any one woman. Being in bonds and gags only excites them because it’s the greatest adrenaline rush in a world that bows and scrapes to them. Even bound and gagged they have more power than any slut in Sumeedan, and deep down they know that. But it is easier to tell yourself that you are at a greater disadvantage to the whore that is pleasing you while you are in shackles. And delude yourself at the end of the day when your ball sack is empty and you toss a silver coin at her that you have somehow vanquished or survived this life threatening experience.

I collect my jumbled thoughts and focus of his cock, i run my tongue up and down its length as the Legate with a soft sigh reclines on the pillow beneath him, hands in my hair. I tease the cap of his manhood with my teeth until his interest almost begins to wane and then i slurp it all into the back of my throat, i keep him there as i move my head up and down his shaft, the shudder that runs through his body tells me that he will be cumming soon, so i take his dick out of my mouth. I have something special planned for tonight. I turn around till my ass is in his face and then spread my anus apart. I had already oiled my anus before he came, the successful outcome of my endeavors has to me never been in question. I turn my face to look at him, hands on his hard shaft almost as if asking permission. To powerful, civilized and educated men like the Legate, anal sex was almost taboo. Something for dirty commoners and rabble. Not something to try on the highborn ladies of the kingdom.

He is entranced, there is an almost wild look in his eyes, like a calf upon the butcher block, there is the beginnings of a small frown on his face, how dare i insult him by implying he would rut like a dog in the streets. This has been my only gamble tonight, and it only has a chance because even while he processes this as a slight to him, his hard cock still throbs in my hands, He needs to cum.

I don’t wait for him to decide which way to go, i take the decision out of his hands as i slide his hard cock into my oiled up anus, the shudder that runs down his thigh is all the response i need. I have him. I let him sit as he is, muscles tensed and i ride him, i pull my ass cheeks apart so he has a good view of what his cock is doing to me as i groan in pleasure. I can tell he is trying to stop himself from cumming, as if that would take away from the perceived crassness of our situation. I leave him to his inner dilemma as i push down faster and harder on his hard shaft with almost animal like grunts. He loves it, he hates it. When he cums i see it start in his toes and rise up his body in a flush until his whole body is shaking. When he is done, we lay in there in the sheets, united not just by our bodies or the deal we just struck, but also by our dirty unorthodox sex and the slightly sweet smell of shit in the air. I allow myself a tired smile, somehow i have managed to both enter myself into the “body games” and co-opt a man as powerful as the Legate however tenuously to my cause, the first real step on my journey to end the life of the God King completed, i let exhaustion take me and drift into uneasy sleep, plans and dreams flitting across my subconscious.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/toa6bv/the_body_slave_mf