PZA: Travels with Nicolau Ribeiro 21-22

Nico parts company with the group of artisans he is travelling with and becomes a harem boy for a rich and powerful sheik who is about to make a pilgrimage to Mecca, Nico seeing this as an opportunity to get closer to home. Crossing the Arabian desert, he submits to the sheik and to a Bedouin patriarch leading a tribe of camel breeders to pastures to the east and admits to his shame he enjoys being taken by the older men and blames his association with the heathen Saracens.

I remained hidden in our rooftop lean-to the next morning while Ajib headed downstairs to work. Returning midafternoon when business was slow, he had a break of several candle marks until he had to return to work for the evening.

"The man who seeks you is Sheik Rahmah ibn Jabir al-Jalahibar, a rich and most powerful man of much influence in the city," Ajib informed me. "One of his men is in the common room waiting and watching for you to return."

"I do not know. But his man has talked to your friends and been to your room. Perhaps one of them might know."

"Would it be possible for you to talk to my friends and see what you can find out?"

"Of course," he replied, eager to do anything I asked, and before I could tell him to take his rest, he had disappeared down the trapdoor.

After what seemed like the longest time, he returned to tell me Ahsen was waiting for me in the kitchen. Being a performer at the inn it was not unusual for him to take a meal in the kitchen with the staff, but even as revered and desired as he was as a dancer, he did not warrant admission to the roof. Making my way down to the kitchen, I sat in the back obscured in shadow and hidden by a couple large sacks of flour purposefully placed on the table. Ahsen informed me that the sheik had stationed a guard in the common room to keep watch for me, and the man had checked out the room I was sharing with him, Ubaydah and Ma'mar and had questioned them and the others about my past and where I might be. The rumour was that the sheik had also let it be known in the bazaar that there would be a generous reward for anyone who could tell him of my whereabouts. Apparently the sheik had been quite taken by me and wished to add me to his harem, and was particularly anxious to do so as he was about to head out on an umra, a pilgrimage to Mecca. It would be, for a man his age and accustomed to luxury and idleness, a most unpleasant and strenuous journey, and he was anxious for a boy who could entertain him with song and music during the day, and in the pillows at night, and with whom he could impress other sheiks of power once he arrived at Mecca.

"You seem to attract men like a lodestone attracts iron," Ahsen observed with a grin, partly in humour, partly in envy, and partly in amazement.

"It is a curse," I agreed with the same mixture of humour and wonder. "I thought when one went on a pilgrimage to Mecca he was to fast and remain chaste."

"If one is going on a hajj, the holy pilgrimage everyone must make at least once in his lifetime during the first ten days of Dhu al-Hijja, yes. But an umra is not so strict, and for a man like Sheik Rahmah ibn Jabir al-Jalahibar, exceptions can be made. Besides, you are a boy, and congress with a boy, and a harem boy besides, is not the same as with a wife or female concubine."

"We have talked of this, the rest of us. Rammah and Muhammad are of the opinion you should remain hidden if you can until the man leaves, which rumour is within a week, or until we do, which will be shortly thereafter."

"Northwest to the mouth of the Euphrates river and then north up the valley to Baghdad, where we will continue north along the River Tigris and cross over to Tabriz."

Tabriz. The city where Rifki had been murdered and I had headed west with Prince Abbas seven months ago. If I stayed with my companions I would have made a complete circle and would still be hundreds of miles from a port where I might catch a ship home. The Euphrates River, home of the ancient civilizations of Ur and Babylon, I had learned about in school. How I would love to see the ancient ruins and the magnificent cities that I was told now occupy that fertile valley. I recalled hearing from the Mameluke Usama of caravans following the Euphrates and then crossing over to Palmyra, where what now seemed so long ago I had camped with the Mameluke army on our march north to fight the Ottoman Empire who was making raids into Mameluke territory. I could leave my companions at Bagdad and return to Palmyra and retrace my steps to Cairo.

"Hasan and Yaser do not feel you can hide for that long, and are of the opinion you should accept the inevitable and go with the man. He is not a cruel man from what we have learned of him. It would not be a bad life, especially for one such as you who is certain to please him." Accept my fate and trust in Allah. That such was the opinion of Hasan and Yaser did not surprise me. "Ma'mar and Ubaydah agree you should come out of hiding, but that you should walk up to the man and tell him to go screw his own ass. You are a free man. He cannot force you to join his harem."

"I think your choice is evident," he said with a shrug. "What man, if he is truly a follower of Allah, would decline the chance to see Mecca, the birthplace of the Prophet, a thousand blessings upon His name? And to travel as a pampered love boy of a rich and generous man, how difficult is that? He is well into his sixties. He cannot be that demanding in the pillows! If he is truly so desirous for you to join him and has so little time, I am sure you can bargain a nice arrangement with him. I say do what is best for you, and in my mind that is seizing this opportunity. But enough of this sheik. Tell me, how is a Zoroastrian wine boy?"

He laughed and clapped me on my back. "Perhaps you can bargain with the sheik to take him with you. One cannot have too many wine servers. But I must be off. There is a school of dervishes here, and one of them has invited me to join them this afternoon to observe one of their ceremonies and teach me their dance, and perhaps for more later," he added with a wink.

I headed back up to the roof. "I have three candle marks before I must resume my duties," hinted Ajib.

I smiled and took him in my arms. Soon we had disrobed each other and were lying among the pillows arousing each other, which despite our exhaustive sex play the previous night, was not a difficult nor unpleasant thing. We were both young, he eleven and I fifteen, and we were both healthy. Ajib insisted that I mount him this time, and had brought an unguent from one of his friends for that purpose. How could I refuse? I embraced him and kissed him, drawing his naked body against mine. Our erect members pressed against each other's stomach and I could feel his lust throbbing through his rigid flesh, as was mine. Deciding to have him assume the position on his knees and elbows, the dog position I have had heard it called, I knelt behind him and taking the unguent, I greased first his virgin hole and then my stiff member.

Wiping off my fingers, I grasped his slender hips and positioned the tip of my member against his anointed opening. Telling him to push out to open his anus, I slowly pushed my hips forward. Although it was his first time, I was skilled and experienced in my role and my member was not that thick compared to that of many men, though at fifteen I am proud to say it was no small size. I inhaled deeply and heard him do the same as I persisted, pressing on and slowly stretching open his anal muscle with the bulb of my greased member until it popped inside his rectum. I paused to calm myself, and then slowly pressed on, driving my member up his virgin ass until my curly hairs were pressed against his smooth backside. I paused again, this time to relish the sensation of having my cock surrounded by hot, moist flesh, and the idea of being the very first to have penetrated this beautiful boy.

How it is that having one's cock up a virgin boy is so much more delightful than up any other boy, or man, I cannot explain. Physically there is no difference unless the boy has been a total whore and from repeated use has lost the tightness of that opening. Yet, having my cock up that boy's ass and knowing that I had taken his virginity made the act all the more arousing and all the more pleasant. I was the first up his ass and knowing that I felt a strange sense of achievement and of responsibility. This was his very first time and I wanted it to be something he would look back upon with fondness, and with arousal.

I slowly eased my cock back out of him, pausing at his entrance, and then slowly sank my cock back to the hilt. I leaned forward and kissed the nape of his neck and inhaled the delightful freshness of his fragrance, the fragrance of boy. I buried my nose in those thick, coiled ringlets and delighted in the feel of them on my cheek. I slid my hands up his slender waist to cup his pubescent breasts and I fondled his nipples, causing him to squirm with the irritation and arousal as they became firm.

The rim of my cockhead was tingling with the same arousal as I slowly pumped my member in and out of his hot, moist rectum. I had to pause to postpone the inevitable and I knelt there enjoying the delightful experience of one boy fucking another, two boys united in the most intimate and most enjoyable way possible. I waited a long time, until the urge to continue pumping my member in and out of his rectum subsided, and then I began again. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the swollen, numb feeling between my legs, on the heat and wetness of the inside of him, and on the joy of introducing this eleven-year-old boy to this most intimate of acts two boys can engage in. I again inhaled the delightful fragrance of boy and thrilled with the sound of his laboured breathing, knowing the pleasure he was feeling was a result of me.

As I reached that turning point once more, I debated postponing it once again but chose not to. Time for this fresh-faced, sweet cherub to discover the joy of having his rectum filled with another's seed. And so I continued to pump my cock in and out of his tight rectum, and he constricted his anal muscle and relaxed it in time with my to and fro motions as I had taught him. As I felt the pressure developing in my loins, I arched my back and concentrated on that delight that precedes the ejaculation of one's seed.

And then came the twang deep in my groin and the burning gush of my seed up the core of my swollen cock and the spurting of it out the burning opening! Squirt after squirt shot up this virgin boy's rectum, filling it with my copious, teenage seed. And as I was filling him, he arched his back and whimpered and his own slender little cocklet wagged in the air and his thin, watery juice erupted from the tip and sprayed the pillows beneath him. He had come from the pure pleasure of having his ass fucked without either of us having touched his member. We deeply inhaled the air now pungent with the musky fragrance of spent seed and I squeezed him tightly.

We resumed our fondling perhaps a candle mark later. We kissed each other softly and gently, on the cheeks, on the forehead, on the lips. Our hands gently explored each other's naked body, me and this eleven-year-old boy, caressing limbs and smooth backs and compact buttocks. I cupped those tiny, hairless nuts, rolling the tender orbs in their sack, and he cupped my balls and rolled them. I caressed his tiny reed, slipping my thumb, pointer and middle fingers up and down the shaft and over the sensitive, exposed knob, and he likewise stroked my growing cock. He was surprised when I told him I wanted him to fuck me, and delighted.

Piling up several pillows, I lay on my back with my ass perched upon them and my legs spread. Pressing his lips together in serious thought, Ajib knelt between my outspread legs. As he oiled my hole as I had oiled his, and then greased his slender member, I looked up at him and my cock quickly began to rise at the sight of this slender, brown-skinned boy concentrating on lubricating my asshole, and then looking down just as seriously as he lubricated his now stiff member. The sight of this boy on the cusp of puberty, naked and kneeling before me, his beautiful, deep brown eyes and long, feathery eyelashes, the black ringlets framing his smooth-cheeked face, and his greasy fingers oiling his slender cocklet, caused my cock to quickly rise with desire. No poet no matter how skilled could do justice in describing this sweet, eager cherub, nor in describing the lust I felt for him as he prepared to fuck another boy for the first time.

And then the tip of his cock was pressing against my asshole and I opened up to him. I watched his face as he concentrated on what he was doing, as he grasped my hips and slowly eased his own hips forward, easing his slender cock into my body. For the first time in his life he was discovering the joy of having a hot, moist asshole envelop his cock, the pleasure of having another boy's flesh grasping his and drawing him in. And then he began to pump his hips to and fro, working his cocklet in and out of my body, discovering for the first time the joy of fucking another boy. This was once again a first experience for him, and once again I was his first. No matter how many times I have fucked over this past year, I still remember fondly my first time, the delight of penetrating another boy, the pleasure of having my rigid cock surrounded by a hot, moist ass, the awe and mystery of that first experience, and the wonder that congress between two males was so pleasurable. It would be the same for him, and that thought caused my cock to quiver and twitch so that I was sure I was going to squirt my seed in my excitement.

As he knelt there between my legs fucking me, I concentrated on his face, watching for every changing emotion. He did not notice me as he glanced down at our union with barely opened eyes, concentrating on the mechanics of what he was doing, and on the pleasure he was feeling between his legs, and, I suspect, on the excitement of this being his first fuck. Slowly his thin chest began to rise and fall more rapidly and I knew the pressure was building up in his loins. His lips parted and a look of joy, and of wonder, replaced the earlier concentration. His breathing became more laboured yet as that look turned to one of anticipation, and then, at the last moment as he arched his back and threw back his head, a look of pure ecstasy in his eyes as he inhaled deeply through those parted lips and I felt his slender cocklet throb deep up my rectum and I felt his hot, thin seed spurt into my body. Witnessing the pleasure on the face of this eleven-year-old man-child as he climaxed inside me filled me with an undescribable delight.

I was breathing deeply myself, and as I felt myself being filled with his young boy's fresh seed, I felt a twang deep in my loins also, quickly followed by the burning delight of my seed racing up the core of my cock and out the tip. My seed shot straight out and struck my eleven-year-old fucker in the stomach. The blobs of thick, white cream began to ooze back down over his smooth stomach, following the curvature of his loins to collect in a puddle above his cock and to ooze down around it and over his tightly contracted balls. My own balls were drawn up tight beneath my throbbing cock and I exhaled in delight as I was filled with his seed and as I sprayed his loins and hairless pubes with mine. Allah be praised that I was born a boy and had learned of this delight!

Before Ajib left he asked me what I was going to do, and I replied that I was not yet sure, but if I decided to leave, I would not do so without saying goodbye. As I lay there in our lean-to, the air fragrant with freshly spilt seed and of boy and of sweat, I debated my choices. To be able to avoid the sheik until he left, or we did, seemed impossible, but I knew with my friends and Ajib and his friends that it could be done. The question was, should it? I would enjoy seeing the ancient and fabled lands of Ur and Babylon, but that still placed me a long way from the Mediterranean Sea and my chance of sailing home. Besides, at some point I would have to part from my friends and continue on across unknown lands, likely to Palmyra. There was no guarantee there would be caravans crossing the deserts and high plateaus at this time of year, and considering the season, there was a high chance that they would not. And what of the Ottomans? Had they pressed on down south? Would I find myself back in a battle between empires, and if so, which side would I find myself on this time, and would I again be so lucky not to be killed?

Mecca was just as mysterious as the Euphrates River valley, and just as fabled. Actually, being in the heart of Arab country, I knew even less of it, and would likely have even less of a chance of ever seeing it as I did of Mesopotamia. The land I would be crossing was not being fought over by nations, and travelling with the sheik I would be safe from thieves, far safer than travelling with my companions and then on my own, and I had accumulated a fair fortune that I would care not to lose after all I had been through. And as Ahsen had said, travelling as a pampered harem boy would not be difficult. Mecca would also put me close to the Red Sea, and I recalled the envoy Pero da Covilha having said he had sailed up the Red Sea to Cairo, so taking such a route seemed like it would bring me closer to home than following the route proposed by my companions. And if the sheik was really that averse to travelling, we would likely travel much faster than my companions would. Of course I would have to submit to him. That was something I thought I had put behind me, but at least unlike when I was a bath boy or a dancer, I would be submitting to only one man. No matter how repugnant that might be, I was certain the sheik could not be as bad as many of my past sexual partners had been. And, if he really did desire my company that greatly, I could be in a good bargaining position as Ahsen had said, though what I would ask for I had no idea other than to be released from my obligation to him upon our arrival in Mecca. That in itself I realized was a large request. So, weighing all things, it seemed travelling with the sheik was my best choice, and as Ahsen had said, I had to do what was best for me.

There was one painful sorrow with such a decision that cut to my heart. I would be forced to leave Theresa behind. From what I had been told, there was no way she would be able to make the journey to Mecca. This past leg had been hard enough on her and I felt sorry for that. I had to do what was best for me, but I also had to do what was best for her. Of course, taking her on to Palmyra and possible into battle where she could be killed was not best for her either, and even if the route was safe, the reality was that I would eventually have to part with her. I could not take her back by ship to Viano do Castelo. I sadly realized that with either choice I made now we would have to part at some time. My mind made up, I sought out Ajib to say goodbye, and then slipped out to the stables for a much more difficult parting. With tears streaming down my face, I returned at last to the inn knowing I had made the right decision, but that knowledge did not make the choice any easier nor lessen the pain in my heart.

It was early evening when I returned to my room by way of the back stairs, packed my belongings, and said goodbye to my latest friends, which admittedly was not as tearful as my parting in the stables. I gifted Ma'mar with Theresa in that of all of my current companions he seemed to be the closest in temperament to me, and of all of them, had seemed to take the greatest care of his horse. He assured me he would take good care of Theresa, and when I refused to take any payment for her, he insisted I take his old nababah, having only a couple days ago purchased a newer and better instrument.

The moment I entered the common room, the sheik's man spotted me and a short time later I found myself in the presence of Sheik Rahmah ibn Jabir al-Jalahibar. What I had been told was true. He was about to set out on an umra, and was desirous of my company. What followed could only be described as an interrogation. He asked about my background, particularly where I was from and who my parents were, and what I was doing in Shiraz. I had anticipated such would be the case, and had a mixture of truth and lies prepared that I figured would be what he wanted to hear. In that I was correct; he did not question my answers nor pry any deeper.

His question caused me to smile, and brought to mind a tale I had heard one night while travelling with the Mameluke Usama from a boy my age, a fellow slave-soldier. As he told it, there was a Bey, a fat and pompous man, who came by his father's shop every day, and gave him the same look as he had seen a hungry man give one of his father's meat pies, or a man give a beautiful, young girl. Finally he said something to the boy's father, all the while looking at the boy, and when his father responded, the man looked disappointed and then angry and left in a huff. When the boy had asked his father what the man had said, his father replied that the Bey said he found his son a pretty boy and offered to purchase him as his concubine. The boy said that his father had replied that his son was attractive, and that there were dozens of men he had bent over for that would attest to the pleasure he could bring, which of course was a lie. Much to his father's amusement, the man had left and never returned.

I considered giving a similar reply, and if I had been looking for a way out of the situation, I likely would have, but that was not the case. Instead, I replied, "I have some experience, enough that I hope I have the skills to please you my lord, but not so great that I would not have much to learn from a man of your position and experience."

The flattery, I knew, would please him, and my response intrigue him. "I also have some experience as a guard."

"Yes, I was employed as such by a trader travelling from Kabul to Herat. I would be happy to demonstrate my skills if you so desire."

"It is a service I can provide you in addition to the others," I observed. "I am sure a man of your wealth and position cannot have too much protection."

He again smiled at my flattery. This was too easy. Father said I had a gift for bargaining. I wondered what he would have thought of me if he had heard me now, bartering my body for passage to the Red Sea. "But now, what is the benefit to me of joining you on this lengthy and arduous trip?"

That I would ask such a thing he had not expected and was caught off guard, always a good thing for one pressing the bargain. We ended up agreeing that I would be free to leave the harem two weeks after our arrival in Cairo, which is when he planned on making the trek back to Shiraz. My leaving was actually a small concern for him, a harem boy normally being traded off or otherwise disposed of if he fell out of favour or if his attractiveness faded, or, once he became too old to be desired, provisions being made for his employment if he had pleased his master. To me, however, it was essential that he agree so in the end I was not sure who had gotten the better of the bargain. I returned to the inn to pick up my belongings, accompanied by the guard who had been stationed at the inn to watch for me as insurance I would return to the sheik's apartments, and by a slave to carry my belongings.

Upon my return I was bathed by one of the servants with scalding water and a strong soap, and then taken to the eunuch in charge of the male harem who inspected me for lice and fleas and instructed me on the routine and the behaviour that would be expected of me, and especially a list of things that were not permitted, which was lengthy. First and primarily there was to be no sex with anyone other than the sheik, and no amusing myself with my hand, feet, mouth or any other part of my body. I had heard of those who could pleasure themselves orally though I had suspected it was wishful thinking, having tried to do it and having found it impossible. How one could pleasure himself with his feet I had no idea. There was to be no entertaining of others in my room, male or female, no contact with the female harem, no taking of alcohol or drugs except as provided by the sheik, and no leaving the grounds unless accompanied by the eunuch or someone appointed by him. When I did leave, I was to be discretely dressed so no flesh could be seen. There was also a list of forbidden meats and vegetables which would taint the flavour of my seed. There seemed to me to be little difference between being a harem boy and being a slave.

I was then shown to my quarters. The boy harem was located in one wing of the household and was off-limits to everyone, male or female, other than the sheik, his first wife to whom no part of the household was barred, and the eunuch in charge of us. There were six of us and we each had a small bedroom consisting of a cot, a chest for our belongings, and a closet for our clothes. We shared a common room where we ate and could visit with each other, the rule against us having someone in our bedroom obviously being to discourage us from engaging in sex with each other. I quickly discovered the others, for the want of company, spent most of their time in the common room. To me it felt much like imprisonment, and I suppose in a sense it was. The other boys ranged in age from ten to seventeen and they were all awaiting my arrival and curious about this new member to their select group. Over the course of that evening and the next day I learned much about the sheik, and repeated the lies I had told him to my new companions.

Sheik Rahmah ibn Jabir al-Jalahibar was sixty-four and saw his upcoming umra as a necessary but loathsome task that, considering his age, he could not put off much longer, particularly since he had once again postponed the Hajj to Mecca, a much more strenuous and stringent pilgrimage. He had four wives but was planning on travelling with only two, his first and oldest wife, a woman of fifty, an acknowledgment of her position and own authority in the household, and his fourth wife who was fifteen and pregnant, as a show of his virility and position. The other two wives were young and beautiful also, but would be too much of a temptation for the man, who had a weak will as it was and was going to find it difficult enough to go without sex until his return, which was figured to be at least ten weeks. Of his six female concubines, he was taking three, girls who were fourteen, sixteen, and twenty, selected because of their beauty as show to the other sheiks, the latter two already having born him children and no longer as desirable. Of the boy concubines, he was planning on taking two, a boy of thirteen and the other sixteen, besides myself, again mostly to show his wealth and position.

In his employ were three eunuchs, one in charge of the women, one in charge of us boys, and the third, the head eunuch, responsible for running the household and in charge of the slaves, servants and guards. The latter eunuch appeared to hold the position I knew as chamberlain, a man who was responsible for running the households of royalty and of the rich, a powerful and esteemed position back home, and here also I gathered. Which eunuch would be accompanying us on the pilgrimage they did not know, but it was certain it would be at least one of them. My role was, as I had been told by the sheik and apparently common knowledge among the boys, was to help make the journey more enjoyable during the day with my singing and music, and during the night in his bed, and upon our arrival in Mecca as a bauble to impress the other sheiks.

That evening the sheik held a huge banquet in commemoration of his humble and pious journey, inviting all the wealthy and important men of Shiraz as a show of his power and position. All his wives and concubines, male and female, made an appearance before the meal for added impression along with his fourteen daughters, the youngest almost two years of age and the oldest twenty-eight and married with four children of her own. His six sons ate with the men, his eldest sitting beside his father. It was evident, to me after living with the Timurids, that the party was just as much to reinforce in everyone's mind that his son would be in charge of things while his father was gone and it would be business as usual as it was to celebrate the sheik's faithfulness to Allah. I, of course, was the centre of attention and hours had been spent seeing to my robes, ensuring that enough flesh was revealed to be enticing but enough covered to be mysterious, selecting my jewellery, and anointing me with perfumes and powders to ensure that I not only looked desirable, but smelled desirable also. I sang and played the ud, the music and songs having been screened by the head eunuch, whose power and authority I quickly learned was exceeded by only the sheik and his first wife. There was much feasting and drinking and the party lasted well into the early hours of the morning.

Despite the hour and an evening of drinking, the sheik was desirous of discovering my other entertainment skills and as the guests departed the head eunuch ordered me to go to the boys' quarters to refresh myself. A perfumed bath had already been drawn for me, and new clothing, these much more revealing and more easily removed, had been laid out for me. Having seen to my toilette, I was taken by the eunuch in charge of the boy harem to the sheik's apartments where I was instructed to wait. The sheik arrived quickly thereafter, having also bathed and changed into clothing more suitable for lovemaking, though still opulent. I bowed my head to the carpeted floor and remained there until ordered to stand and join him as I had been instructed. I did so quickly, keeping my eyes lowered. He reached out and raised my chin. As he looked at me, I recalled the tale of the boy who had been admired like his father's meat pies.

"Indeed," he agreed, though not with as much sincerity as I had, which under the circumstances, he being one of the faithful and me being one of the heathens in their eyes if they had known my true identity, was ironic. "You performed exceedingly well tonight. I am most pleased."

"It is an honour and privilege to serve you," I responded, again as I had been instructed and lowering my eyes modestly and shyly again, also as I had been instructed.

He clapped his hands and one of his slaves, a young black boy who appeared to be my age and whose name I learned was Solomon, instantly appeared, carrying a tray upon which was a bottle of wine, two goblets, a platter of cheeses and fresh fruit, and a locked jewellery chest. He placed the tray on the low table before us and bowing so deeply his nose was level with his navel, he quickly backed out of the room. The sheik handed me the key and motioned for me to open the chest. Inside was a silver chain with a large pearl, perfectly spherical and a delicate rose in colour, darker at the bottom and gradually fading at the top. I had seen only one other like it, in the possession of the Jew gem merchant in Viano do Castelo and which had been the envy of Father and Uncle, who told me was rare and most valuable. This one was more beautiful. He motioned for me to put it on.

"A token of my appreciation for the esteem you have brought me tonight, and in anticipation of the pleasure you are about to bring me. If your performance tonight in the privacy of these walls is as delightful as it was early this evening in the banquet hall, it is yours to keep, not just while you are with me, but to take with you when we reach Mecca if I have not convinced you by then that your intent to leave me is a foolish whim."

"I am honoured and humbled by your generosity," I said, bowing my head respectfully.

"You have yet to prove you are worthy of possessing it," he said with a slight curl of his lips and sparkle in his eyes.

It was an easy chore. Like most rich and powerful men, Sheik Rahmah ibn Jabir al-Jalahibar had a large ego and a selfish interpretation of pleasure. It was an easy matter to feign admiration of his physique, which was not as flabby nor as wrinkled as one would have expected for a man of his age and indolence, and to feign awe at the sight of his claim to masculinity, which in its partially aroused state was average based on the men I have seen, which is no small number, though with his overhanging stomach and wide thighs it appeared smaller than it actually was. In that he saw the purpose of sex as being to bring him pleasure, and in that I had much experience in doing so as a bath boy and as a dancer, it was not difficult to please him.

He was not unpleasant to look at actually, merely old, and from navel to knees he was not unlike the hundreds of men I have pleasured. Keeping my attention focussed on his crotch, I did not find arousing him a distasteful task, and in that he was at the moment infatuated with myself, he was aroused quickly despite his age and the amount he had drunk. After that, all that he required of me was to turn around and present my backside. The pleasure he derived after that was all in the eye of the beholder so to speak, and the sensitivity of his member. Kneeling there on my knees and elbows, there was little for me to do other than to work my anal muscle, constricting it as he withdrew and relaxing it as he entered, a mechanical process which by then I could do automatically without thinking about it, and to breathe heavily, which one does automatically as one engages in sex. Beyond that all I had to do was whimper and exclaim periodically with pleasure, something that was also automatic with a skilled lover or with one whom you truly love or find arousing, neither of which he was, but which I could also easily feign and often had in the past with customers such as him.

And so it was that I knelt there naked and perfumed and pictured in my mind another, in this case the Mameluke Usama el Hasan ibn Fuad who had been my master but whom I had come to love as a fellow soldier and mentor, and yes, as a lover. I recalled the first time we had sex in his tent on the trail to Palmyra. He had been the first man to penetrate me, and it was an experience that I remember fondly and will never forget, nor regret. Of course it had been very different being mounted by him than it was being mounted by the Sheik. For one, the first time I had been mounted by Usama we had been face to face, and for another, we had wanted to please each other. Rahmah took me from behind, and was interested in only pleasing himself.

There were similarities though. Both involved a man mounting a boy, in both I took the submissive role, and in both, even though I was much more experienced now, it was still sex with someone much more knowledgeable and experienced than I. Physically there were similarities too. Both were men with a larger, hairier body, my own still being as slender and smooth as it had been a year ago, and though the position and emotional relationship were different, it was still a stiff cock pumping in and out of one's asshole, the same burning sensation about one's anus, the same tender spot being brushed deep up one's rectum, and the same build up of tension in one's loins. As I thought of such things, I was abashed at how jaded I had become. Had sex with others of my gender become so commonplace that I would have such feelings?

It was not as good as the sex I had recently had with the wine-server Ajib, nor as raw as the sex I had with the two brothers and their brother-in-law in Yazd, but it was better than the sex I had usually engaged in as a bath boy or as a dancer, many times during which I was nothing more than a willing hole. Sheik Rahmah was my master but I was neither slave nor servant, and he did appreciate and admire me, not just my looks, but my skills as a singer and musician, and he did want to provide me pleasure even though that was secondary to pleasing himself. He reached his climax quickly, way before I had expected. It being late and he having drunk much, and in that it was going to be an arduous day on the morrow, he did not press for a second time. For me, it was disappointing not having climaxed also, but I felt no eagerness for a repeat performance.

The eunuch in charge of the boy harem woke us early, both those who would be travelling with the sheik and those who would not Following breakfast, which consisted of a large bowl of a creamy, fermented milk which they call laban, those of us who were leaving gathered up our belongings, which were carried for us by the household servants, and joined the others in the courtyard along with the beasts which we would be riding and which would carry our belongings, ornery, foul-behaved creatures called camels. In addition to the sheik, his two wives, and his six concubines, our caravan included the sheik's son's eunuch, Sali'a, not one of his own as had been expected, four female servants (the favourite servant of each of his wives, a cook and her assistant), one male servant who looked after the camels, a female slave to see to the needs of his female concubines, Solomon, the young black slave I had seen earlier, to look after our needs and to help the cook, four older male slaves to help pack, unpack and care for the camels and set up and take down our campsite, and six armed guards, a total of twenty-seven people!. Everything and everyone was packed and ready to go by the time the sheik arouse, which was not until midmorning and then early for him. He was angry having to get up and be on the way, and everyone else was angry having to sit and wait for him. It was not a pleasant way to begin our pilgrimage.

It took us four days to travel from Shiraz to Būshehr despite it being a well-used trail, the sheik not being a man accustomed to travel, nor any of his company for that matter. Būshehr was a small fishing village which also served as the main port to transport farm produce from the surrounding fertile valley across the Persian Gulf to Arabia, the land of the Saracens. The ship we used to cross the Gulf was a lateen-rigged ship they called a dhow, which was, I learned, the most commonly used ship in this part of the world. Ours was wider and flatter than most and had four lateen sails in all, one more than was common, because it had been modified to transport travellers and their camels from Eran to the Arab peninsula. I found the narrow stalls in which our beasts were penned, four abreast and crowded nose to tail so they could not move and fitted with slings that passed under them to support their weight as they would have to stand throughout the journey with tilted troughs beneath them to carry their wastes to the stern where the troughs emptied directly into the ocean most interesting and I made special note of the arrangement, sure that Father would be most interested. The men who operated the ship were most skilled and had our beasts loaded and secured in no time.

The trip across the Gulf was short, about two hundred miles, and the sea was calm. It had been well over a year since I had sailed on a ship, and as I watched the shoreline disappear and turned to watch the prow of our ship cut through the blue-green waters of the gulf a sensation of freedom and freshness passed over me. I inhaled the fragrant sea air deeply and closed my eyes in ecstasy. My fellow companions were not as elated about our journey, and each and every one of them were soon leaning over the side of the ship emptying their stomachs, which I am sure was not appreciated by the gods of the sea but which greatly amused the sailors. When it became evident that not only was I comfortable aboard a ship but knew something about sailing, I became good friends with the crew and joyfully joined in and helped them adjust the rigging and lower and raise the triangular lateen sails as required by the pernickety winds. It took us three days in all to cross the gulf, including the time it took to load and unload the ship, far too short a time for me, and far too long for my companions who had spent most of the trip bent over the side of the rail. It was enjoyable, but oh, the pain of nostalgia and the longing for the fishing port of Viano do Castelo!

And so I left the land of the Turkmens, and arrived once again in the lands ruled by the Mameluke Empire. Disembarking at Ad Dammān, a small coastal village identical to Būshehr, we travelled for two days along a well-travelled road to arrive at Al Hufuf, a walled city and the major trade centre in the eastern half of the country where the sheik intended on resting up and recovering from his arduous trip so far across land and ocean. None of my companions feeling that well, I was more than willingly allowed to accompany the cook, two slaves including Solomon, and one of the guards to the market the next day. Al Hufuf was, I discovered, situated on the largest oasis in Arabia, the oasis being fed by many different springs which allowed the people to grow dates, rice, fruit, and grains, including wheat and barley, all of which were found in abundance at the market along with beautifully woven clothes, fine copper and brass housewares and trinkets, and finely-wrought and ornate swords and daggers.

That night the sheik had sufficiently recovered to entertain a couple of the dignitaries of the city over an elaborate supper at which I performed, singing and playing both the nay and the nababah, Ma'mar's old spike fiddle, and of course dressed in my finest and most seductive clothes and wearing my rose pearl. I continued playing while the men relaxed and talked pleasantries over coffee, and was then dismissed as the sheik began to discuss business with the dignitaries. By then his wives and the wives of his guests had finished feasting on the leftovers of the meal, leaving the remainder for me, the rest of our company, concubines, servants, slaves, and guards, having had their own supper earlier. There was still plenty left for me and I began with a mazza consisting of three plates of appetizers to which the cook added a little fresh golden amber olive oil: tabbouleh (a salad of chopped tomatoes, green and white onions, radishes, parsley, and mint to which had been added nutty-flavoured burghul), baba ghannooj (a smoky flavoured eggplant dish), and taratoor (a sauce made from nutty sesame seeds, garlic and lemon juice) which I found blended well with the baba ghannooj. Initially having found these foreign foods repugnant and unable to eat them, I had over time I had not only grown accustomed to them but had begun to enjoy these new tastes. Uncle had said it would be so, and I had to smile now as I recalled my firm declaration that I would never find enjoyment in these strange heathen foods Following the appetizers, I finished off the kibbi (lamb pounded into a paste to which was added onions, burghul, salt and pepper and fried), extra having been prepared as the main meal for the rest of the company, and then what was left of the samakah harrah, baked striped bass stuffed with walnut and pomegranate seeds topped with lemon slices, which had been the main meal enjoyed by the sheik and his guests. Finishing off with a pistachio-filled pastry drenched in syrup, served only to the men and which the cook had kept aside for me, I was content and ready for my summons to the sheik's bedroom as I knew I would be.

The look of admiration and desire in his eyes as I stripped before him I am ashamed to admit brought me pleasure, a pleasure that was akin to the pleasure I felt when being praised for my skill at singing or playing music, or the pleasure I had felt long ago being praised by Father or Uncle for my skills as a sailor or as a trader, or the pleasure I had felt being praised for my skills at weapons by my master and mentor Usama. Seeing his member begin to swell simply because of the sight of me was akin to applause of the audience after performing, and his arousal caused my own member to begin to swell, something which did not go unnoticed and which pleased him, thinking that my arousal was the result of anticipating engaging in sex with him. In actuality, much to my shame I have to admit that I had become so depraved living with these heathens his thinking was not that wrong.

He had me fondle his member and stones and twisted around so he could fondle mine, forming a "U" with his fingers and thumb to surrounded my flaccid member and then drawing them up and down the shaft and over my bulb. It was a new method of arousal for me and one that I found most pleasurable, and I made note of what he did so I might try it in the future, on him and on myself. He then lay on his back with his hips raised on several pillows and he had me finish arousing him with my tongue as he watched. As I knelt there and licked his shaft and teased the rim of his bulb with the tip of my tongue, his member began to rise more quickly. Licking his member and knowing he was watching me I found most erotic and again I must shamefully admit my own member quickly stiffened, and seeing that I found licking his cock arousing again pleased him immensely. Once he was rigid, he had me go down on him, which I did slowly so that I was able to engulf his entire cock in my mouth, which he also found most delightful. As I worked my mouth up and down his member slowly and sucked on the rigid tube, my mouth filled with saliva and I paused periodically to swallow the cock-flavoured spittle and to inhale the fragrance of his cock and balls through my nose.

I thought perhaps he intended on me bringing him off with my mouth, but as he approached his climax he stopped me and had me turn around and assume the customary position on my hands and knees and penetrated me again from behind, using my spittle as lubricant. I inhaled and exhaled with delight and with the effort of opening up to him, and as he rapidly pumped his cock in and out of my body I arched my back with pleasure and concentrated on the burning pleasure about my anus and the ache about my blood-engorged bulb. He came shortly after mounting me, and so aroused was I, that I came seconds after he began to fill my rectum, spraying the pillows with my young, creamy seed.

I found our sex that night enjoyable. In part I am sure it was because of the good mood I was in due to the delicious meal I had just consumed and my full stomach. The sheik was in a particularly good mood, having recovered from his sea sickness and his aches and pains travelling by camel and very pleased that I had again impressed his guests. Having refrained from indulging in sex since our first time ten days earlier, out of obedience to his faith he claimed though I knew it had more to do with his sickness and aches and his ill mood, he was particularly eager, and was more considerate of my own pleasure. Admittedly, that I myself had not engaged in sex for the past ten days might have been a factor in my enjoyment also.

It was only after I had retired to my own bed and recorded the day's events in my journal that I realized what the day was-December 6, the Feast Day of Saint Nicholas. It was without saying the most unusual way I have ever spent celebrating the Saint's feast day, and, I must confess, was most enjoyable even if it had not included Mother's special spiced meat pie. I am sure she would have been shocked if she had known how her son had spent the holy holiday, and Father would have been most perturbed. Unflappable Uncle I could see repressing a smile, and making some observation about one's fate being in the Hands of God, Who should not be questioned.

We stayed in Al Hufuf four days in all, and each of the remaining evenings the sheik entertained prominent citizens of the city and I entertained both, and then when they departed, I entertained the sheik, each time following the same pattern of arousing him by hand and mouth and then turning and accepting his seed. On the last day I went to the bazaar, unaccompanied as a reward for my services much to the envy of the other concubines, and purchased several beautifully woven shawls, several fine daggers and several small pieces of copper and brass jewellery for their unusual and exquisite design. Having made no attempt to escape, which would have been futile in this remote, harsh land, endeared me still further to the sheik, which I knew would bode well for my future.

The road from Al Hufuf to Riyadah was again well-travelled and the sheik and his entourage were more accustomed to travel so we made the hundred and ninety miles in three days. Myself, I found our beasts of transportation most uncomfortable, and the beasts themselves most disgusting. If they were not spitting, they were farting, and often they did both at the same time. After riding by horse, I found sitting upon the hump of these spindly-legged beasts twenty-four hands above the ground and rocking forward and back with each step they took most uncomfortable. Although they were called ships of the desert, I found nothing ship-like about them.

To work out my aches and pains at the end of each day, and to keep up my skills, I practised throwing my daggers and my swordplay, both parrying and thrusting techniques. After much persuasion, I convinced one of the guards to fence with me. He was most hesitant, thinking that I thought weaponry a game and afraid of hurting the sheik's prized bedmate, and finally agreed only when I proposed we wrap our blades with leather straps to lessen the chance of injury, a technique I learned while travelling with the Ottoman Janissaries. At first he took a defensive position and allowed me to do the attacking, but he quickly discovered that I was serious, and a skilled swordsman. By the time we reached Riyadah we were practising a candle mark each evening and by the end of our practice we had both worked up a good sweat. That a concubine would also be a skilled swordsman surprised and bewildered the guards, but it also earned me their respect.

Being responsible for my safety, and my unscarred body, the eunuch Sali'a at first pretended not to be aware of our practise sessions, which was ridiculous considering the confines of our campsite, and when I persisted and they became routine and it became obvious what I was doing he admonished me for risking marring my body and subsequently losing favour of the sheik, but he did so half-heartedly and I suspect secretly hoped that I would scar my body. He was not a likeable man, and, to me, was a pitiable one. The sheik's son having two wives and one concubine, a female, two servants and three slaves, Sali'a, being his only eunuch, was in charge of the sheik's son's household affairs and his entire staff. Being taken on this pilgrimage by the sheik and being in charge of all affairs and responsible for the safety and welfare of the other twenty-six persons on the pilgrimage, more than triple the number of people he oversaw in his earlier position, Sali'a saw this as a large promotion, which, I suppose it was. That quite pleased the man who had an ego as large as he was, and he stood at close to seventeen hands tall and weighed at least thirteen stone.

The sheik's son having no male concubines, and apparently having no interest in having such, Sali'a saw looking after us as one of the more repulsive of his chores, and his contempt and distaste was obvious to the three of us immediately. Fasial, the sixteen-year-old concubine, took great delight in teasing Sali'a and flaunting his sexuality as a result, knowing full well that the sheik was fond of him and that Sali'a knew that, which only made Sali'a all the more surly. The man hated me in particular, whether it was because of my looks, my active sexual life and that I was wholly male, or if it was because of his rigid faith and the fact I was tempting the sheik on what was supposed to be a chaste pilgrimage, I do not know, and suspect it likely all three. Nothing would please the man more than having me injured and losing the favouritism of the sheik. Sheik Rahmah would surely have forbidden me such practice, but the man found travel exhausting and rarely left his tent after the evening meal and fell asleep long before I began my practice.

I had at first thought my two companions would be envious of my position with the sheik, but, to the contrary, they were more than delighted with the way things had turned out. Not having to see to the sheik's sexual satisfaction was actually a relief in their eyes. The dislike of the sheik's three female concubines for us three boys, on the other hand, was just as obvious as Sali'a's contempt. It was not so much the sex, though they did see it as an insult to their femininity and charms that the sheik would enjoy congress with us, as it was the sheik's show of favouritism, and his generous gifting of us for our services. I know after seeing the pearl he had given me, his concubines looked at the pearl with open covetousness and at me with daggers in their eyes. Of all of them, Jauharah, the sixteen-year-old, was the most envious, and of us three boys, she disliked me the most.

We stayed in Riyadah for two days. It was a small, insignificant place, its only claim to fame being that it was the last major settlement before crossing the Arabian peninsula. It was at Riyadah that we added a guide to our entourage. The distance from Riyadah to Mecca was slightly over five hundred miles angling across the central plateau along an old, narrow caravan route. The Ad Dhanā, a narrow extension of the upland desert of red sand, the An Nafūd to the north, which was actually the southern end of the even more northerly desert, the Al Hamād, joined the An Nafūd to the much larger desert to the south, the Rub' al Khali or Empty Quarter, which was largely uninhabited and unexplored. Never have I seen a country so devoid of vegetation other than a few spiny shrubs that eked out an existence in this arid, inhospitable land and upon which our camels miraculously fed, further evidence of the contrary nature of the beasts. The trail we followed between these great deserts rose gradually from the eastern shore to the mountains still far to the west along the Red Sea, at times crossing great flat expanses of red sand and other times either twisting around or climbing up and over great dunes of golden sand that stretched out in all directions as far as the eye could see. Although we were travelling in the middle of the coldest months of the year, our lowest temperatures were close to the average temperature back home and each day as we climbed in altitude and approached the west the temperatures slowly climbed also. Our guide told me that in the middle of summer temperatures could be twice what we were experiencing and the sand so hot one would burn the soles of one's feet! I could not imagine such heat and was grateful we were travelling through this devil's garden when we were. I was also grateful we had an experienced guide, for there was no trail to follow and the deserts looked the same no matter which direction I faced.

On our sixth day out our camels began acting more stubborn and cantankerous than usual, and, we found out, for good reason. They sensed what we could not, the approach of a sand storm from the north. Fortunately our guide was experienced in such matters and perceptive when it came to the behaviour of camels. He had us have them lie down in a circle and then had us hunker down inside the circle before the storm hit. Even covered with the coarse camelhair cloth we used for tents and buffeted by the beasts, I could feel the sting of the sand as it blasted against us. We huddled there for half a day, the wind so strong and the sand so thick you could not see, and I gathered a new appreciation for our beasts of burden. They simply closed their eyes, and their nostrils using an extra flap of skin, and went to sleep. I was thankful I had not been so foolish as to try to bring Theresa along with me. She would never have survived. Not only did our beasts have thick pads on their soles and knees to protect them from the heat of the sand, they could go weeks without water, which was necessary as there were few oases between Riyadah and Mecca and those that did exist could not be guaranteed to have water. The rainy season, if you could call the miserly few fingers of rain this country received such, was not for another month in Riyadah. Fortunately for us it extended from November to January in Mecca where it brought relief from the heat and much needed moisture for the crops. That was, I suspect, another reason the sheik had chosen this time of year for his pilgrimage.

On our tenth day, a cloud of dust was seen to the north and our guide said it could only mean one thing, the misfortune of crossing paths with a tribe of nomadic Badawi, dwellers in the desert, known to us in the west as the mysterious and feared Bedouins. Why he said misfortune I soon found out. That afternoon a group appeared on the horizon, thirty strong in people, thrice that in camels, a family on their way east to pasture their camels when the rains came. These Bedouins are a fierce lot, the men all bristly beards and scowls, curved swords at their belts flashing in the sun, their womenfolk hidden behind black robes that have only a meshed slit for their eyes. They greeted us cordially but I have travelled enough and have had enough experience in these foreign lands that I could sense the hostility and the threat. These were camel breeders and warriors, the most esteemed level of Bedouins.

Camp was immediately struck by both parties and the sheik invited the newcomers to a mansaf, a formal dinner, in his desert tent that evening. That was, I discovered, the most gracious complement a Bedouin can offer. These Saracens have many strange customs and beliefs, most of them barbaric and most sinful, but one thing for which they cannot be faulted is their hospitality. To my astonishment I learned even one's enemy is given forty-eight hours of welcome with safe conduct to the border of the local chief's territory. Even the poorest family openly and willingly shares what he has with visitors, and the wealthier the family the more generous they are. Sheik Rahmah ibn Jabir al-Jalahibar was no exception and the bounty he shared was not out of fear nor submission, though the nature of his guests had to have had some influence.

One of their customs is to never ask a person's business nor where they have come from nor where they are going. Although not required, Sheik Rahmah informed them he was on an umra, and upon hearing this, there was a perceptible softening of their mood, which, I suspect, had been the sheik's hope. That he and his household were on a holy mission meant much to them, these people being most traditional and severe in their ways and extremely religious.

"By abstinence and self-denial one can train himself to be in conformity with Allah's will," observed their leader, Sheikh 'Alá al-Dín Mubarak, the patriarch of the two families travelling together, a man I figured to be close to Sheik Rahmah's age. "It is encouraging to hear of your purpose for travelling across our lands. Fewer and fewer are following the old ways." To this Sheik Rahmah lowered his eyes and humbly nodded. That was most uncharacteristic, emphasizing for me the power and authority his guest must have.

While the dinner was being prepared, I was summoned to entertain our guests, and as they were about to begin the meal I was instructed to remain and to continue playing my ud. The mansaf, which turned out to be a simple meal, was prepared of course by our cook and her assistant but was attended by only the men of both groups and was filled with ritual and etiquette. It began with one of the servants bringing out a basin and warm water being poured over the hands of those about to eat. This was followed by prayers, which came as no surprise. These heathens are fanatic when it comes to prayer, especially compared to my compatriots, whom I had always thought devout Christians.

A large platter was brought out and Sheik Rahmah stood to one side as his male guests, our guide, Sali'a and our guards sat down in a circle around the platter, the Badawi tossing the ends of the scarves of their headdress, called a kuffiyyah, back from their faces. The patriarch graciously motioned for his host to sit and join them. Pieces of shrak, a large, flat crust which had been baked in a domed cast iron oven the Badawi carried with them, were arranged on the platter by Sali'a and spiced rice was spread over the shrak. This was topped with boiled lamb, and a sauce of seasoned butter was poured over the lamb and rice. The meal was eaten only with the right hand of course, the men tearing off a lump of tender lamb, rolling a ball of rice around it, and popping it in his mouth, making sure his fingers did not touch his lips, another curious custom of these heathens. During the meal coffee was brought in by Solomon and was served by Sheik Rahmah, his highly polished metal coffee service gleaming in the light of the oil lamps. Thirst is the grimmest hazard in desert travel and I had learned guests are always offered all the tea and coffee they want. When one has had enough, he indicates so by shaking his cup from side to side. I noticed nobody did so.

Following their meal, the men continued to sit and talk and drink coffee. The platter was removed, the women of both camps and the children of the Badawi eating the leftovers, and after them, the concubines. The servants and slaves had been prepared a simpler meal and ate only after everyone else had, first the males, and then the women. These Badawi are the most ascetic peoples I have ever met. Their extreme self-denial and devotion to Allah and to ritual, their severe discipline of self for religious reasons, and their universal refrain from all pleasures and comforts might have been inspiring to some, but was frightening to me and I found being in their company most uncomfortable.

"No, he is not," Sheik Rahmah responded. I knew immediately where this conversation was heading, and so did the Sheik. He was about to continue when I managed to catch his eye. Excusing himself, he approached me, not too happy to have been interrupted but wise enough to know by now that I would not have done so without good reason.

"This journey has been most difficult for Sol," I whispered. "He spends most evenings squatting over the trench. I think your honoured guest would find… ah… things quite unclean. Perhaps I might distract him with a song?"

"This is Naqi," he said, returning to the circle. "As you have seen, he is most talented in playing the ut. He is also a talented singer. He has asked that he perform something special just for you."

My comment about Sol had of course been pure fabrication in the hopes of sparing the boy what I was certain would be a rough and unfeeling introduction to the pleasures of the pillow. I had already been thinking of several songs that might please the sheikh and his companions. And so I sang the tale of Malik bin Sharhabíl and the Fortunate Isles, a tale about a famous leader, the twenty-third Tobba, who lost an army attempting to invade the western sands and had erected a copper statue of himself on a horse with a warning to others that there is no access behind him and nothing beyond. It is a heroic tale exemplifying honour, faith, courage and devotion, all highly cherished by the Bedouin and, I had found, a favourite of audiences when I had travelled the northern silk road across Eran. I followed it with two more epic tales that I had learned in my travels with the Timurid Prince Abbas. Sheikh 'Alá al-Dín Mubarak was most impressed, and Sheik Rahmah was most pleased. (1)

"His talents extend also to the pillows," Sheik Rahmah confided. Sheikh 'Alá al-Dín Mubarak raised an eyebrow. "He is one of my favourite concubines," Sheik Rahmah whispered.

"For myself, his voice and his ud provide me comfort on this pilgrimage," Sheik Rahmah responded, which was the truth. He simply did not mention that my body did also and if his guests assumed that he did not avail himself of that pleasure he could not be faulted. "For him, well, he is young, and has many years ahead of him to make the umra."

Sheikh 'Alá smiled. "You are a most gracious host. May Allah, a thousand blessings on His Name, reward you."

And so it was that the Bedouin patriarch and I retired to his tent. Unlike the private tent of Sheik Rahmah, that of Sheikh 'Alá was austere. Constructed of strips of cloth made of camel hair and some type of vegetable fibre and dyed black, it contained only a thin carpet covering the sand, a couple nondescript pillows, a single oil lantern, an incense burner, and a bracket with several hooks on the central tent pole for his weapons.

Laying back on the pillows, he ordered me to strip. I did so slowly and seductively, all the while praying that this experience would not be as painful as I expected it to be, and assuring myself that no matter how unpleasant it was, it would be worth it having spared Sol what would have been a terrifying and scarring experience. I could tell from the look in his eyes and his heavier breathing and his occasional reaching down to adjust the folds in his trousers that he was becoming aroused. Naked, I stood there and looked down at him demurely.

I did so, beginning with moves quite proper and innocent and gradually increasing in tempo and in suggestiveness. The man squirmed with even greater discomfort, unaware he was being entertained by a trained and experienced koçek, but aware that the performance he was watching was of an exceptionally high quality. These Badawi may be one the most devout and disciplined tribes of the east and they might deny themselves comforts and pleasures others treasure, but they are still men, and Saracens, and all the world knows that for the Saracens even the most unnatural lusts are not forbidden. Besides, a beautiful, sensuous boy can stiffen even the most reluctant cock no matter what a man's faith.

Discarding his heavy woollen robe, shirt and trousers, he unwound his headdress and removed his loin cloth to stand naked before me. Despite his age, which I discovered was six years more than Sheik Rahmah, his body was firm and lean and his hair thick and a dark black. His member, two fingers longer than most men and a finger thicker, stood proud and eager between his legs. Dropping to my knees, I reached out and holding his member by the base, I licked it from his large, hairy balls to the tip of his flanged knob. The smell of cock was strong, as was the smell of camel, but instead of finding it repulsive, I found his raw, animal odours arousing and my own member began to rise. I dallied a long time, knowing the longer I took the more aroused he would be, and the more pleasure he would find in our congress. Only when I was fully aroused myself did I slip my lips over the bulb of his cock and begin to suck. I made no attempt to go down on him, and so great was his arousal that he roughly grabbed my head and began to pump his hips, sliding his rigid cock in and out of my mouth.

He continued until he was about to come, and then turning me around, he grasped my hips and pulled apart my ass cheeks and placed the tip of his blood-engorged member against my opening. As he plunged forward, I relaxed and opened my anus and he roughly and crudely penetrated me.

"O the joy of sodomy! So now be sodomites, you Arabs.
Turn not away from it-therein is wondrous pleasure,
Take some coy lad with kiss-curls twisting on his temple
And ride as he stands like some gazelle standing to her mate" (2)

And so he took me, the two of us standing there in his tent, rutting like two animals, an act of pure lust and desire, not just on his part, I must admit, but mine too. This Saracen I understand. Such is the nature of these barbaric heathens for whom any sexual act is not only not forbidden, but permitted and praised. So we had been told by Father Francisco and so I had observed myself. (3) Besides, I had intentionally driven the man to such heights by my dance and by my oral arousal of his member. As for myself, how long can one live amongst sinners and the unconsecrated before one becomes a sinner and pharisee himself? Yes, I enjoyed rutting like an animal with this man, this bearded stranger five times my age, older than my grandfather. Naked as the day I was born, naked as Adam in the Garden, I trembled with the raw pleasure of the sexual act even though my soul would be condemned to hell for what I did. I was a sinner, just as he. I stank like a camel as badly as he also. Both were unavoidable in this heathen land.

He thrust his cock in and out of my rectum rapidly and furiously, banging his hairy crotch against my smooth backside, delighting in the pleasure my moist, tight asshole brought him. His hot breath panted against the nape of my neck and grew heavier as he approached his peak of ecstasy. My own breathing was laboured and I concentrated on the burning sensation forming a ring about my anal opening and on the piercing pleasure shooting up my rectum each time his knob brushed against that button deep up my bowels. The pleasure of his hard, thick cock up my ass was equalled by the pleasure of having a stiff cock myself, and as he approached his orgasm so did I. My knob ached to be touched, and my stones drew up tight under my cock. I concentrated unabashedly on those pleasures, the throbbing cock up my ass, the throbbing of my rectum in time with the cock it was grasping, the burning desire deep in my loins and encircling my knob, the throbbing of my member in time with his. I ached for the release of my seed and I arched my back and cried out with my desire.

And then he was filling my rectum, this ancient, revered and feared patriarch, filling my rectum with his seed that should have been destined for the womb of some woman and for the creation of a child. I felt his hot, thick seed flooding my rectum, penetrating deeper up my bowels, and then I was spurting my own seed, the tip of my member burning with pleasure as spurt after spurt spit from my throbbing, jerking cock with such force it shot an arm span through the air before arching to the carpet of his tent. Squirt after squirt of my youthful seed erupted from my tightly constricted balls and I trembled with the pleasure. And, as the two of us spent our seed and the musky fragrance of our milk combined with the earthy scent of camel and the manly perfume of our sweat, the words of the poet Abu Nuwas rejecting the life of the Badawi in favour of living in luxury came to my mind.

Critic, relent!
Your hope for repentance
Will meet with disappointment.
For this is the life,
Not desert tents,
Not camel's milk!
How can you set the bedu
Beside Kisra's palace?
You, mad to expect repentance,
Tear your robe all you want;
I will never repent! (4)

I too preferred the finer things in life and could never live in such austerity as the Badawi, but I would never forget, nor regret, the night I spent in a Bedouin tent with Sheikh 'Alá al-Dín Mubarak.

With the arrival of Christmas, Nico's conflict between his Christian background and his lust for men and delight in sex is renewed, and as he enters Mecca and learns more about Islam and jihad he struggles with his most basic religious beliefs. The female concubine Jauharah and the eunuch Sali'a make advances toward him with dire consequences. He is enlisted to demonstrate for the sheik's 14 yo female concubine how to stroke and suck cock and he witnesses congress between her and the sheik. Following the birthday of Prophet Mohammad, he engages in an orgy with a young, powerful Saracen trader and his three black, Christian slave boys, engaging in a new sexual experience and learning a new position.

Nicolau Ribeiro (15yo)
Supporting characters: men 64 and 24; boys 12, 15, and 16.
tb tt interr slavery

The following morning we parted company with many wishes for Allah's blessing upon each other and with each having much praise for the other, the Bedouins continuing on their way east and we continuing west. My asshole being tender and raw from the fucking it had received, I could not help recalling the previous night and wondering what the future would bring as I bounced along on my camel. To make matters worse, my thoughts of the previous night resulted in the inevitable reaction, and the erratic gait of my cursed beast caused the rim of my blood-engorged knob to brush against my baggy pantaloons. How I made it through the day without soiling them with my seed I do not know. My fellow male concubines were most curious about my night with the Badawi sheikh and pressed me for the intimate details that evening. Being neither one to brag nor one to gossip, I told them only enough to stop their pestering and to remain in their good favour. When one travels in such close proximity for such a long time as we were, one cannot afford to offend anyone, and when travelling under such severe conditions offense is easily taken.

As I saw to my needs before bed that night, I thought again of the previous night and marvelled how such subtle changes made that basic act so different from one time to the next. It being dark and there being nobody around, I discretely stroked myself, quickly bringing myself to an erect state, and soon thereafter sighing with relief as I released my seed. On my way back from the trench, I almost stumbled over Solomon kneeling in the sand at the edge of our camp and staring up at the sky.

"That one," I said, pointing it out, "the brightest one. It is called that because if you are on a ship and sail toward it, you will go directly north, and if you keep it at your side you will travel east or west." As the son of a merchant sailor, I had learned how to identify the constellations while still learning to walk.

"It is bright," he agreed, staring up at it in serious contemplation. I was about to continue on to my tent when he added, "I wonder if it was a night just like this, the night the wise men entered Bethlehem."

"We have been taught that three wise kings from the orient followed a bright star in the heavens that guided them to Bethlehem and the stable where our Lord Jesus, our Saviour, was born. It was on this very day, fourteen hundred and ninety-one years ago, that He was born. I think perhaps that is why the stars this night are especially bright."

I realized then that Solomon's hands were clasped in prayer and that he had been praying when I had almost stumbled over him. It was the twenty-fifth day of the month we call December, the day our Lord Jesus Christ was born! I had spent the eve of His birth in congress with a man old enough to be my grandsire, perhaps even my grandsire's sire, and I had spent most of the day thinking of my raw asshole and with an erection, and I had on the eve of His birth spilt my seed on the ground while this faithful slave boy knelt in the desert sands and prayed to Him!

Racked with guilt, I prayed for forgiveness that night and cursed myself for my weakness of character and weakness of flesh. Oh, what a wretch I am! I would have made a poor son of the Grand Duke of Constantinople, or a Pelagius of Cordova. (1) I did not sleep that well that night, nor the nights following as I wrestled with my guilt and my conscience. That I am weak, I confess! That I am addicted to the pleasures of the flesh, I confess! That I lay with man as one lays with women, I confess! But what choice do I have? It is not enough to disguise oneself as a Saracen, but one must act as one if he is to survive. One must become one. To do otherwise is to be killed, or spend one's life in slavery. Of little use would I be to Father, or to King João or Pope Innocent, dead or a slave. I would not have gathered the information I had if I had not played my part.

Fortunately the sheik did not seek my favours for I do not know if I could have performed without revealing my guilt, and my true identify. Gradually I accepted what I was, and what had to be, and all I could do was to pray for forgiveness. Each day it grew a bit warmer, and one day we had a brief shower of rain which I particularly found refreshing. It took us another ten days to reach Mecca during which nothing of any great import happened.

That did not appear to concern the sheik's sixteen-year-old concubine, Jauharah. I have already mentioned her dislike for me, and after my night in the tent of the Bedouin sheikh her envy and jealously became even greater, which I had not deemed possible.

"So, how was it, being the pillow-mate for a Bedouin patriarch?" she asked one evening as I finished my sword practice. It was a sarcastic question, the tone of her voice cutting and her eyes filled with contempt, not a question of curiosity as had been the case of my fellow concubines.

"It was like with any man," I replied with a shrug, having no wish to discuss the matter with her, nor having any wish to cause her further anger.

"How fortunate for you that you do not need to be celibate on this torturous pilgrimage. At least you can occasionally get some pleasure out of this journey." Again, I only shrugged as I attempted to pass her and seek sanctuary in the tent I shared with my fellow concubines. "At least I assume it is pleasure between a man and a boy," she persisted, "though I cannot see how it can compare to congress between a man and a woman." I said nothing and stepped to the side. She immediately stepped to the side also, blocking my way. "And I do not imagine it can be much pleasure playing the sharmuuTa to an old goat like the Badawi chieftain." My anger rose at being called a whore and I almost fell into her trap out of pride, but, with many thanks to Allah I did not. I stepped to the side. "Of course how would you know? I do not suppose you have ever had the pleasure of congress with a woman," she observed with a sneer as she stepped in front of me again. At that point the eunuch Sali'a appeared and with a glare from him she raised her hand to her mouth and giggled and stepped aside and I continued to my tent.

"Association between yourself and the sheik's concubines is strictly forbidden," he snapped, stepping in front of me. Was everyone insistent on blocking my path this evening?

I lowered my head and nodded it submissively. Accusing her of being the one who had initiated the association would have been futile. If anything, Sali'a's contempt for me had increased since my night with the Bedouin patriarch and lately it seemed as if he was purposefully looking for a reason to have a grievance with me. Of course it might have just been my own foul mood from riding all day on these accursed, stinking beasts that had to be creations of the devil himself. The barren, desolate country we were crossing certainly had to be to his liking. Or perhaps my foul mood was because of the long days and nights alone. Although there were twenty-eight of us, there was not one that I felt close to or was inclined to engage in conversation. Since my night with the Bedouin, Sheik Rahmah had ceased sending for me to join him in his tent. At first I wondered if it had been because I had sex with the man, though I had done so only upon his initiation and his gifting of me to the man. After some thought of the matter, I concluded that it had to be because we were approaching Mecca and he was reminded of his holy obligation of celibacy on this pilgrimage. Admittedly, the contradictory and frequently unexpected nature of these heathens often left me perplexed.

At least that was true of the behaviour of most of them. That of Jauharah had been consistent and the reason obvious up until our confrontation following my congress with the Bedouin. After her initial confrontation, she found a way to intercept me each day afterward, which was not a difficult thing given the confines of our camp and the routine I followed. These subsequent meetings, however, were not confrontational. Far from it. They were blatantly seductive. The look in her eyes, the tone of her voice, the way she moved her body, taking every opportunity to brush up against me, they were all too familiar to me, and to my fellow concubines who teased and joked with me that she was trying to seduce me. To them, they figured she was jealous and wanted to see what it was that made me so desirable to the sheik and had made him offer me to the Bedouin. Fasial, the older of the two concubines, figured perhaps I was a challenge and she was determined to have congress with me to prove to herself her feminine wiles could seduce me. Admittedly either or both reasons could be correct, but I suspected a third, that she hated me and was trying to get me in trouble with Sali'a, and Sheik Rahmah. Whatever her reasons, her behaviour made for an uncomfortable and apprehensive evening, and after a tedious and strenuous day a man had to have the patience of Lot not to respond.

We were all delighted when at last we saw the walls of the great city of Mecca in the distance. Being on the crossroads of several trade routes and the site of the Kaaba, which was said to have been built by the Hebrew patriarch Abraham and his son Ishmael, the foundation containing the Black Stone given to Abraham by the archangel Gabriel, and also being the site of the Zamzam, the sacred well said to have been used by Abraham's concubine Hagar, the mother of his son Ishmael, the city was already large and a major religious centre before the birth of the prophet Muhammad. With the birth of the prophet and construction of the great mosque al-Haram, whose courtyard enclosed the Kaaba and Zamzam, Mecca became the most sacred of the Moslem holy cities and even larger.

It being late, we camped outside the city that night and entered early the next morning, sending Sali'a ahead to make arrangements. We had heard many rumours about the holy city but few facts, no Europeans having been allowed into the city since the Saracen's seized it. The thought that I would be the first filled me with such excitement I had not slept a wink the previous night. (2) As Sheik Rahmah passed through the city gates, he called out the cry they call Labbayka, something I was told all entering the city did. We all joined in as we followed.

Mecca being the destination of many pilgrimages, there were many inns, caravansaries and private homes which catered specifically to pilgrims. So, it was not that difficult to find a set of apartments in the city to accommodate our entire entourage. The first thing on everyone's mind was a long bath and clean clothes. As I entered the large public baths, memories of my employment as a tellak flooded back and as I stepped into the first of the rooms, the sicaklik, and saw the row of beautiful young boys standing along the side clad only in their wooden clogs and cotton towels waiting to be summoned filled my heart and my loins with desire. Soon the soothing delight of the hot water and the cleansing of the steam distracted my thoughts and I lay back on the large marble stone in the centre beside Sheik Rahmah and in the company of my fellow concubines and relaxed. When we were approached by several of the boys we retired to the second of the rooms, the tepidarium, where we soaked in the warm water and let the boys soap our bodies and scrub the desert grime from them. Several men in the room slipped off to private niches along the sides with their boy where I knew they would be receiving more than a private scrub and massage and I felt a stirring in my loins, having both good and bad memories of those private sessions.

The young boy scrubbing me, a cute, brown-eyed boy of about ten, noticed immediately and discretely motioned toward one of the niches, and I would have loved to have joined him, but of course as the sheik's concubine I could not. To my surprise, Sheik Rahmah did not seek this customary service either even though he had not had sex since our meeting with the Badawi. After relaxing in the cool water of the third room, the sogukluk, we dressed and returned to our apartments where a fresh change of clothing awaited us. The rest of the day we spent relaxing and recovering from our journey across the desert, it having been particularly strenuous for the sheik and his wives and concubines.

Early the next morning we three boys joined Sheik Rahmah, his two wives and his three concubines, and the eunuch Sali'a and went to the Kaaba, all of us dressed in simple, white robes and headdresses. I was told that during a hajj, pilgrims wear an ibram, a white, seamless shroud that they keep and use as their burial shroud. To my surprise, the Kaaba was a plain, white building, cubical in shape and without windows, and much smaller than I had expected. We performed the tawaf, the circling of the Kaaba seven times, and we each kissed the Black Stone in the southeast corner of the building. Following this, we performed the say, seven quick crossings between two low hills, Safa and Marwa. This concluded our umra. As we headed back to our apartments, Fasial informed me that for the hajj, pilgrims also gathered on a hill in the valley of Mount Ararat from noon to sunset, together performed a symbolic stoning of the devil in the valley of Mina, sacrificed a sheep, and circled the Kaaba seven times again.

Our visit to the Kaaba caused me much reflection regarding my own faith as we returned to our apartments. Despite our differences, Christians, Jews and Moslems all revere Abraham as a man of unswerving faith. The Jews claim to have been descended directly from him, and the Moslems, who call him Ibrahim, claim his son Ishamel is the progenitor of the twelve tribes of Arabs. Christians of course are united by their worship of Jesus and so are descendants of any of the three sons of Noah whereas Abraham is a descendant of Shem, Noah's oldest son. Of course the Portuguese, like all Europeans, claim descent from his third and youngest son, Jepheth.

The Jews and Christians claim Abraham fathered Ishmael when he was 86 by his concubine Hagar, who was the Egyptian handmaiden of Abraham's wife Sarah, who was his half-sister and gave birth to his son Isaac when he was 100. Moslems on the other hand say that Hagar was his wife, not his concubine, and Ishamel legitimate and his favourite son. Furthermore they claim that when God demanded that Abraham sacrifice his son, it was Ishmael whom he was about to sacrifice, not Isaac as the Jews and Christians claim, and that it occurred on Mount Ararat, not in Moriah in Palestine. All three, on the other hand, claim that Abraham's covenant with God was the beginning of the rite of circumcision which is practised by the faithful of all three faiths. All three also believe in the archangel Gabriel who Christians and Jews say revealed to Mary that she would give birth to Jesus and to Zacharias that he would have a son who would become John the Baptist. Moslems also claim he revealed the sacred writings, the Qu'ran, to the Prophet Muhammad, a thousand blessings upon His name. Interestingly, I learned that Muhammad ascended to heaven in a similar manner to Jesus. With so much in common there, one has to conclude that there has to be truth to these beliefs, and with so much in common, it is difficult to understand why there is such hatred among the followers of the three faiths. It was a matter too weighty for my simple mind, and I wished the philosopher Rammah was there to discuss these matters with me.

That night, his obligations fulfilled, Sheik Rahmah retired early with his eldest wife, out of respect for her position I suspect for at her age she surely could not be as desirable as his younger wives, and she was long past the age of childbearing. The following day the sheik spent conducting business and that evening he entertained the more important dignitaries and businessmen in the city with a feast, at which of course I provided the entertainment. That night I joined him in his bedchambers where he mounted me not once, but twice, and rewarded me with a fine dagger, obviously not being as oblivious to my evening exercises during our journey as I had thought.

The next day the sheik was busy again with business, leaving us on our own. His wives and oldest and youngest concubines decided to spend the day shopping and took their personal servants, two slaves and two guards with them. The cook and her assistant also decided to replenish our food supply that day and took the other two slaves with them to help carry things back. Most of the household having left, three of the remaining guards took the opportunity to take some time to themselves, leaving one behind. That left just us three boys and Solomon, Jauharah and the female slave who looked after the concubines, Sali'a, and the servant who had been assigned to look after camels and was now responsible for cleaning our accommodations.

Stripping down to a pair of pantaloons, I found a shaded spot in the courtyard and spent two hours exercising. As I was about to head back in for a shower, Jauharah came out and headed straight for me. I immediately tensed and prepared myself for another confrontation, or attempt at seduction, which amounted to the same thing.

"You are not like Rahmah's other concubines, or like any other concubine I know," she observed. I shrugged and began to walk around her. "The others are content to lie around and occupy themselves with mindless games and gossip and rely on their good looks and soft bodies. You, on the other hand, have the body of an athlete and can fight like a guard. Are you not afraid you will become too hard and muscular and the sheik will lose interest in you?"

"He has found no reason to complain," I responded. "And I do not intent on being a concubine much longer."

"The sheik and I have a covenant. I have agreed to accompany him to Mecca and remain for two weeks, and he has agreed to release me from my obligations at that time." My pride had gotten the better of my good judgement and loosened my foolish tongue. Tired of her insults and insinuations, I could not help but brag a little. She would remain a concubine until the sheik lost interest in her, and then would likely be married off to some sycophant.

"You have great powers of persuasion over others," she observed in her most flattering tone. "I knew you were different from the others the moment I saw you."

"I have not always been a concubine," I responded arrogantly. "I have been a guard and a soldier and fought beside princes."

"Your body is proof of that," she said in her sweetest voice, her eyes filled with admiration as she dared to reach out and touch my chest. "I have seen your skill in practice with the sword and the dagger. I ... I am sorry we started off on unpleasant terms," she apologized, stepping closer so her body was almost touching mine. "I did not mean to tease you, or anger you. I just thought you were like all the rest, and, and I was jealous of the sheik's attention to you."

Jauharah apologizing? This I could not believe. She sensed that I was different but thought I was like all the rest? She could not even keep her lies straight. She reached out again and caressed my chest with the tips of her fingers. She inhaled deeply. "You smell like a man, not like some puff pastry like the others, all powder and perfume." My body was hot and perspiring from my exercise and I knew I stunk with sweat. "I bet you are as skilled in using your hidden dagger as you are in using the one you wear hanging from your belt," she continued, daring to slip her hands down to my hot, sweaty crotch. I immediately backed away.

"Most of the household is gone. Let me make amends for any slight I may have given and bring you pleasure. You will find I am as skilled as a lover as you are a warrior." She took my hand in hers and stepped back. "This might be our only opportunity. Let us seize it while we can."

"That is most kind of you, but I do not think the sheik would approve," I replied, pulling my hand away and stepping back. Before she could respond, I turned and walked quickly to the compound. To be honest, I fled.

Fasial wrinkled up his nose when I stepped into the small garden our three rooms opened up onto. "By Allah you stink. If you have to sweat out in the sun, go have a bath."

I had initially intended on doing so, but had changed my mind after my exchange with Jauharah, afraid that she might follow me and approach me again while I was naked and vulnerable. That was silly, being afraid of a sixteen-year-old girl, but I was. She could get me in serious trouble with the sheik, even jeopardize my covenant with him. I could not let that happen.

Of course. I sought out the boy and had him prepare me a bath, and then stay with me while I bathed. As I did so I thought about Jauharah. What had really been her intention? Had she been sincere? And what about my reaction? I was afraid. That I admit. But, afraid of what? Of the danger of being caught? Or of having congress with her? It has been a long time since I last had congress with a female, seven months, and the experience had not been that great. Really, the thought of me and Jauharah did nothing for me. In fact the idea caused my stones to shrink and my member to wither. What had happened to me? Had life with these heathens turned me into a lover of males? I could not be. I have been told as far back as I can remember that was wrong, a sin, a perversion, and despite what I had witnessed at the Vatican, I believed that to be so and I did not know of a single countryman who felt any differently. What I had done since arriving in these heathen lands I had done to survive. Yes, I felt pleasure, but that was the work of Satan, and my flesh is weak. Yet, I felt nothing for her, nor for any female. Depressed, I dried myself off and returned to our rooms.

Bored and wishing to avoid another incident with Jauharah, I went to the bazaar the following afternoon. I asked my two fellow concubines if they would like to accompany me, but that was too much effort for them, and they had no reason to visit the bazaar, all their needs being met right where they were, so I went alone, one of the concessions I had gotten in negotiating with Sheik Rahmah, all the other concubines having to be accompanied by Sali'a or one of the guards, not for protection but to ensure one remained faithful to the sheik. Myself, I enjoyed talking to the merchants, not just because I understood their lives and could relate to them, but also because in the simplest of conversations one could learn much about the sources of goods and the routes they took, information that I knew would be of interest to both Father and King João. Of course I was also curious about ships that would be leaving for as-Suways on the northern tip of the Red Sea and a short distance south of Cairo.

Toward the latter part of the afternoon, I crossed paths with Sali'a, which did not come as a large surprise. Although I had been assured I could come and go as I pleased, I had strongly suspected that I was being watched whenever I left, though this was the first time I actually saw anyone from our household. Walking over to me, he asked how my day had been and if I had found anything interesting to purchase, all very pleasant and innocent, which was totally out of character, just as the behaviour of Jauharah had been the day before. I wondered if perhaps their erratic behaviour was the result of being confined in one place with the same people too long.

"It is." That was one of many things that I would never become used to in this accursed country. Many had been the day when I longed for the fresh, moist wind blowing off the ocean back home.

"It is particularly noticeable walking about in the open. I know of a very good coffee shop nearby."

A pleasant conversation, and now an invite to coffee? That was very peculiar. Being thirsty and having been thinking about seeking something to drink, I accepted his invitation. The shop was close by, and quite popular from the number of customers. Sali'a ordered us coffee, and two date pastries. We engaged in pleasantries, how fresh the pastries were, the quality of the coffee. Sali'a did most of the talking. I nodded or mumbled my agreement.

"Come," he said when we were at last done. These Arabs could drink a single tiny thimble of coffee for several candle marks whereas a normal man would swallow it in one gulp.

Warning flags immediately waved in my mind although there had been nothing in his behaviour to warrant concern and I could think of nothing I might have done to put myself in danger. I followed him up the stairs to one of the rooms above the shop. It was a simple room with a plain, thread-worn carpet, some mismatched pillows, and an oil lamp hanging from a wall bracket. It smelled like the whore houses Prince Abbas used to visit and I had to accompany him and guard the door. What was going on? Closing the door behind us, he turned and untying the sash of his robe, he opened it and let it slip from his shoulders. Before I could react, he untied the sash to his pantaloons and let them drop to the floor. He was wearing nothing under them.

"Boys are of no attraction to me," he said, "but I am curious what it is about you that sheiks find so desirable, especially Sheik Rahmah. Show me."

I glanced down at his member. It was large compared to most men, a hand and a half long, three fingers thick, as large soft as some men are hard. It looked strange with no stones dangling under it. He was not an attractive man, and nor was his member.

"There is no way for him to find out, unless you would be so foolish as to tell him, and that will do you no good once the deed is done. He would not want a boy who has known another man without his permission. I need not tell you that."

"And I need not tell you it is strictly forbidden for a eunuch in charge of a harem to engage in sex with one of its members. He would have you beheaded."

"Mine is a temporary position here. The sheik's son has no male concubines, and has no desire to have any, unlike his father, and his disinterest in the perversion suits me fine. Upon our return to Shiraz you will be back in care of the sheik's major domo in charge of his boy playmates, and I will return to my master, his son, and resume my duties in charge of his household. So now come, drop to your knees and take me in your mouth and satisfy my curiosity," he ordered, taking a step toward me.

What is this, first Jauharah, and now Sali'a approaching me for sexual pleasures? The sun had gotten to both of them, or they had drunk from the same well. I held up my hands and shook my head in the negative as I tried to step around him. He shuffled to block me, moving surprisingly fast considering his pantaloons were about his ankles.

"I saw Jauharah approach you yesterday. If you do not cooperate, I shall tell the sheik, and it is you who shall be beheaded."

"I know, but I do not think the sheik will care. Now suck me." I looked down at his cock again but made no move to obey him. "Am I not good enough for you?" he asked, growing angry. "You think you can play the whore for only sheiks like Rahmah, or that stinking Badawi camel breeder? Enough games. You will pleasure me, as you did them."

He stepped forward and placing his hands on my shoulders, forced me down to my knees. Actually, I dropped willingly, at the same time reaching out for his knees and falling back. Falling forward as I fell back, Sali'a was pulled off balance. Using his momentum and his weight, I easily lifted him up by the legs and tossed him in a somersault over my head. As he landed on his back behind me, I reached for the dagger from Sheik Rahmah strapped to my calf as I did a backflip and landed straddling his legs. With the advantage of surprise and his ankles being tangled in his pantaloons, I flicked up his member with the tip of my dagger and pressed the point at the base on its underside where there was an ugly, black scar where his stones would have been attached. I shuddered as I stared at it, imaging the horror and pain of having one's testicles clipped off.

"I do not believe you will be telling Sheik Rahmah anything," I said, inhaling deeply to calm myself and gain control of my breath. He began to bend his knees, lifting me up at the same time and raising himself on his elbows. The man was strong. The tip of my dagger just above the scar, I pressed it forward ever so slightly, drawing blood. "Move the breadth of a hair and in the future you will have to squat like a woman to piss," I threatened. He froze. A trickle of thick, red blood wove down the blade. He looked freakish without any stones, and as I imagined again what it must have been like to have had them cut off and the wound cauterized with a red-hot iron like some gelding, goose bumps formed on my arms and my own stones shrunk up into my body.

"You will stay away from me, and keep your nose out of my business, or I will tell Sheik Rahmah of this incident, and if he asks for proof, I will tell him to check for the fresh scar under your verga," I promised, slipping to my native tongue instead of Arabic in my excitement, but there could be no question in his mind what I was referring to. If he wondered what language I had spoken or how I can come to know the word, at that moment I did not care. Slipping the tip of my dagger along the base of his cock ever so slightly and drawing more blood for emphasis, I wiped the tip off on his tunic. Slipping it back in its sheath, I quickly got to my feet and walked out of the room. I did not look back, confident he would be tending to his little nick instead of pursuing me. First Jauharah and now Sali'a after my body-I had to get out of here!

The following evening Sheik Rahmah entertained the Sharif of Mecca, a member of the Hawashim clan who has held the position for close to three hundred years on behalf of whichever power was in control of the country. I had heard they have had considerable autonomy and authority over the years, which was evident by the behaviour and pomp of this sharif. I entertained both with the nay and with my voice during their feast and as they relaxed afterward, and their meeting must have gone well for the sheik for he was in an exceptionally good mood when the sharif left.

I was summoned to his bedchamber some time later and told to bring my ud, which was not unusual, the sheik often enjoying a private musical interlude after a day of business and then something more. To my surprise, he was not alone. His youngest concubine, Yasamine, was with him. I had learned shortly after having become a concubine myself that Yasamine had become a concubine only two weeks earlier, and she had celebrated her fourteenth birthday only a few days before my arrival by the sheik taking her virginity.

She lay curled up in the sheik's arms and watched me intently and with obvious enjoyment as I played and sang for them, wine and a bowl of assorted fresh fruit set out before them for their nourishment. After a while the sheik's attention turned from me to her and he began to undo her ties and remove her clothes. Slipping her sheer top from her shoulders, he revealed her breasts, round and firm like two small melons and not much larger than the breasts of a boy. Having not had much opportunity to see a girl's breasts, I could not help but glance frequently in their direction, which I tried my best to do discretely. She lowered her eyes demurely and blushed, it being impossible not to notice my attention. The sheik appeared to enjoy my curiosity and her embarrassment equally and he seemed to become even more open about revealing her to me.

He slowly caressed her breasts and ran his fingers over her nipples, which quickly responded and became firm and aroused. As he brushed his fingertips over them, the girl tensed with what I assumed was the same sweet pain that a boy feels when his nipples are caressed thus. The sheik leaned over and kissed her breasts and her nipples, and then snuggled further down and taking the right in his mouth, began to suck on it like a babe sucking on his mother's teat. Yasamine squirmed even more and threw her head back and sighed. Undoing her sash, he parted her flimsy robe to reveal her slender, smooth thighs and calves and she glanced over at me to see if I was watching, in most part in embarrassment, but, I sensed, also with a hint of hope that I was. I was, and again the sheik made no attempt to shield her from my eyes, allowing me to observe that which no man other than one's husband or master was to be allowed to see.

He slipped her robe off her, leaving her only in a sheer, light pink, silk thong that formed a triangle barely covering her crotch in front and the crack of her buttocks in the back. He again caressed and kissed her exposed skin, skipping his lips over her thighs and caressing her buttocks as her breathing, and his, began to grow more laboured. By then it was obvious he did not mind me watching, and indeed, seemed to become more animated when he knew I was. Perhaps he was trying to prove to me his masculinity, that though he had congress with boys he was a man and had congress with women also, or perhaps he was trying to prove his masculinity to himself. Or, more likely, it was just another example of the perverse and lustful nature of these Saracens, which, as I have alluded to before, knows no limits nor shows any shame.

Finally he undid the final two ties that held her silk thong in place and pulled it off her. He then had her stand and expose her most private part to him, and to me, for his pleasure, and then turn and similarly exhibit her backside. As she did so, the possibility that the sheik was not only doing so in my presence because the lewd behaviour brought him pleasure, but because he was testing me also, testing my masculinity by observing my response to this exposure. Her maidenhead, though I suppose technically it could no longer be called that given he had taken her virginity some seven weeks ago, was hairless and clearly visible with a sparse patch of curly fuzz extending in a triangle from the top of her slit a short distance up her stomach. Her private part formed a slight fold, not unlike a pair of lips except extending vertically instead of horizontally. I had to wonder what it felt like to have a slit in one's body, and if it was difficult to keep it closed so that nothing, like dirt or sand, could enter inside it. As she turned to face him and expose her backside to me, I found it not unlike a boy's, more compact and slender than the backside of an older girl, women having much wider hips than males. Despite the similarity, I did not find the sight as arousing as I did seeing the backside of a young boy though it was certainly much more attractive than the hairy buttocks of many men whose backsides I have scrubbed as a tellaçk in the public baths.

The sheik caressed her backside and ran his fingers over her kus, as they call a cunt in their language, and inserted the tip of his finger in it, again purposefully positioning her so I could see him do it. At last he stood and untying the sash of his robe, opened it and let it fall to his feet. He was wearing nothing under it and I could see his zubr had already begun to swell. She quickly and modestly averted her eyes, but he caught her head and turned it back to him and raised her chin and told her in the privacy of his bedroom there was no shame in a girl seeing her lord naked.

She did as he ordered, again averting her eyes until he gruffly told her to look at it, and that it was not that fragile that she had to hold it so delicately. "Pay it obeisance with your tongue." She looked up at him quizzically, not understanding. "Lick it."

The look of apprehension on her face as she looked down at it, and then the downward curl of her lips left no doubt what she thought of that. I was embarrassed for her and faltered in my playing, causing the sheik to glance over at me reprovingly, the first indication he had remembered I was still in the room, but also with a smirk of pleasure over her displeasure, and over his authority, and over my discomfort. She bent her head and stuck out her tongue ever so slowly and ran it up his still flaccid cock.

"You hold it and lick it like it is a turd," he snapped. "Imagine it is a boughasha," he said, referring to a tube-shaped pastry made with layers of paper-thin dough, about two fingers in diameter and four fingers long, and filled with crushed walnuts and coated with a syrup made from sugar and lemon juice.

She did as he ordered, but clearly she had a poor imagination. "Kiss ikhtak!" he cursed, a common interjection when one was angry, one of the first I had learned upon disguising myself as an Arab and which means "your sister's pussy" and means much the same as when a man says "fuck" when he is angry. Pushing her away, he turned to me. "Naqi. Come here and show how it is done."

Putting aside my ud, I self-consciously walked the short distance from where I had been standing to where the sheik was standing and dropping to my knees, I held up his flaccid cock and licked it from base to tip. It immediately responded and I repeated the action several times, licking it from base to tip along the underside, the sides, and the top. Of course I was self-conscious performing such an intimate act on another male in front of a female, but for some perverse reason, for which again I must place blame squarely on having to live in such intimate conditions with these perverted heathens, I found myself becoming aroused being watched, and particularly being watched by a female. And again, I had sunk so low living with these lustful peoples I must confess to my shame that I did find his zubr as tasty as a boughasha.

She approached him and dropped to her knees. As I was about to stand and return to my place, the sheik motioned for me to stay. And so I knelt there and watched her close up as she once again took his now much more swollen cock in her fingers and began to lick it as I had, running her tongue along his member and through my spittle. My own cock began to rise with that sight and with that thought as his cock completed its transformation and stood erect and proud above his balls.

"Now then, slip the bulb in your mouth and suck," he ordered. She again grimaced and looked at his now rigid cock with even greater apprehension, but did as she had been told. "Bitch!" he swore, "watch your teeth! When I said to think of it as a boughasha, I did not mean for you to bite into it! Naqi!"

I knew what he wanted and again took her place kneeling before him. I slipped my lips over his bulb and sucked and then slowly eased my lips further down the shaft, going slowly and controlling my breathing until my lips were wrapped about his stiff cock at the base. I continued to suck as I slowly eased my lips up to his bulb and then eased them back down to the base. After I had repeated the action several times, the sheik ordered me off and told her to try again. She did so, awkwardly and obviously with little pleasure and gagging frequently but evidently, much to my surprise, to his satisfaction. He told me to play something soft and gentle. And so I returned to my ud, my stiff cock jutting out and leading the way, and played as Yasamine knelt there and sucked on her lord's cock as she awkwardly worked her lips up and down it. As I watched, I wondered if he was going to have her continue until he shot his seed down her throat.

As I began my third tune, I had my answer. Ordering her to turn and drop to her knees and elbows, he knelt behind her, his rigid, spittle-coated cock jutting out eagerly from between his legs, and grasping her hips, he placed the tip of his member against her kus and pushed forward. The girl inhaled sharply with the pain as he entered her cunt from behind, her face screwed up in agony. He could not see her face in that position as I could, but he could not be unaware of her pain, and in his cruelty he did not seem to care, a side of him I had never seen in the pillows, but then I had never been in a situation where he had caused me pain. I had to wonder if that was what it was always like for a woman and if it was, then why women were created to accommodate a man so poorly. It was, in my view, poor craftsmanship to create a woman with an opening too small to accept a man's cock. Then again, it may have been God's plan as congress with a woman had one purpose and one purpose only, that being to create new life. Pleasure was not intended. Perhaps that was why God, or Allah, had made the act so uncomfortable and disliked by women, so men would fuck them only out of necessity, and instead sought their pleasure with young boys. Who was I to know the will of gods? But, if I was right, I was glad again that I had been created a boy.

As I stood there playing what romantic love tunes I knew on my ud and watching the sheik ramming his cock in and out of his concubine, I slowly realized that this was only the second time since she had become his concubine that she had congress with him. That thought caused a quiver of desire to pass up my cock, which I realized was still erect. Seeing him roughly taking her from behind, doggy style they called it, and watching them and seeing the similarity to a male dog and bitch rutting in the street, I inhaled deeply with desire and my member throbbed with desire. Why was the sight of this sixty-four-year-old man roughly taking his pleasure with a nearly innocent fourteen-year-old girl arousing when being approached by a full-bosomed sixteen-year-old had left me limp and disinterested? Was I also becoming as crude and cruel as these heathens as I was becoming lustful? I hoped not, but I could not deny that watching him roughly taking the girl was highly arousing.

I noticed also that gradually Yasamine was beginning to enjoy it also. Her grimaces of pain gradually became grimaces of pleasure and she began to jerk her body and arch her back with the spasms of pleasure ripping through her cunt just as a boy does when another's cock brushes against that button deep up his rectum that sets off such undescribable pleasure. Did a female have the same tender spot, somewhere up her cunt, that did the same thing? Perhaps that was God's reward to a woman, to feel for those final moments that pleasure that a boy feels when he was fucked. Or, perhaps a woman was simply slower to reach that pleasure than a boy being slower of mind and docile by nature. Again, I was glad I had been born a male. When at last the sheik reached his orgasm and shot his seed up his fourteen-year-old concubine's cunt I studied her face to determine if her reaction to being filled with a man's seed was the same as mine. I could not be certain, but from the look on her face I suspected it was not, again giving cause why God had created a boy's rectum to accommodate a man's cock complete with that button of pleasure.

The following day Jauharah approached me again as I concluded my afternoon exercise, a daring move in that although the sheik was gone again on business the rest of the members of the household were on the premises.

"I am sorry I offended you the other day," she began. I was about to say there had been no offense, but instead I said nothing. I did not want to do anything to encourage her. "I am . . . desperate."

"My time of month." I looked at her quizzically. "That time when a woman is more receptive to a man's seed, when she is more likely to conceive."

"How do you know this?" I asked, certain this was another of her tricks. I had never heard of a woman being more receptive to a man's seed at one time than another.

"It is something I was told by my mother. It is something all girls learn when they become women. Seven days after a woman's menses and the next four she is more likely to conceive than any other time."

"If I have congress now with the sheik, I am likely to become pregnant with his child."

"You already have had a child by him," I observed, unable to see why having a second was such a concern.

"Yes, a girl, an ugly girl. I do not want another ugly child." Ignorant of such female matters, I still did not understand. "If I have congress with you, I know with your fine looks and mine we will have a beautiful child, and probably a boy. That would please him, to have a son. He need not know that it is yours and not his."

"To be sure, we would need to have congress while I am most receptive. Now, today. Then two or three more days. I can delay him that long. I have told him I am not well, and I know of a plant whose leaves I can eat that will make me vomit. That will discourage him from wanting congress with me."

Shaking my head and holding up my hands, I backed away. I was too young to be a father! And if I did get her with child, I could not leave her, nor my child-especially not my child. I would be bound to this land and would never see my homeland again. Him or her, I could leave no child of mine to be raised by these heathens and to live with them never knowing his real father, and to live as the son of a concubine besides! Horrified by the idea, I turned and fled.

Sheik Rahmah returned late and left early the next morning to meet with the Sharif of Mecca. Whatever business they were discussing it was clearly of high concern to the sheik so it was likely he would again be away all day and most of the evening, fortunate for Jauharah. Wishing to keep out of her sight, I went to the bazaar first thing in the morning with the intention of spending the entire day there. Learning of a man skilled on the nababah, I sought him out. Delighted to talk to another musician interested in his music, he eagerly spent the day with me and I learned much from him. Returning at nightfall, I intended on slipping to my room unseen, but Sali'a had been watching for me, and the moment I passed through the gates, he told me he had been told to watch for me and to bring me the moment I returned.

After my previous encounter with him, I was most suspicious and cautious, especially when we did not head to the sheik's private apartments but instead to the room occupied by the servant to the three concubines. Being motioned to precede him, I placed my hand on the grip of my sword, alert for whatever trickery he was up to. As I entered the room, he closed the door behind me before I could stop him and I found there, reclining on a pile of pillows and dressed in only a top that covered her breasts and a matching undergarment covering her loins, the one whom I had hoped to avoid.

"The eunuch will not open the door until I tell him, and I will not tell him until you have congress with me," she informed me. "This time you cannot run." I considered doing just that. I had bested Sali'a once, and was confident I could do so again even if he was prepared for me this time. "I have a potion," she said, gesturing to a vial on the stand beside her. "Drink it and the flame of desire shall be ignited between your legs. It is a potion quite safe. It is used by old men to kindle a flame that has long gone out, and by young men who do not want the flame to go out after the first dowsing. I have been assured it will work just as well for boys who like only those of their own gender. So, come, drink," she said, motioning me to come to her and take the vial. "You need not worry that your snake will not rise to do its duty."

"Then come, do your duty," she invited, standing and quickly removing her top and bottom to stand before me naked. Her breasts were fully developed, large and firm like two gourds with large, dark nipples. They were already hard and extended and I suspected she had been arousing herself while she had awaited my arrival. Her crotch was heavily haired and the hairs had been fluffed and combed so that her kus could barely be seen. She rotated her hips suggestively and thrust them out toward me. "I will bring you pleasure beyond your wildest dreams, greater than the greatest pleasure that awaits you in the afterlife," she promised, drooping her eyelids and looking at me seductively.

At that moment the door behind me swung open and Jauharah glared at the intruder. Expecting Sali'a, I stepped to one side and grasped the grip of my sword.

"And I will see you cry out in pain beyond your wildest dreams," promised the intruder, "pain greater than the pain Allah promises the sinner in hell."

So spoke Nur al-Nagar, the sheik's first wife. Stepping up to me, her hand shot out and grasped me between the legs. Shocked by her appearance in the room and even more shocked by her bold action, I stood there slack-jawed as she grasped my stones and my manhood. Her eyes, the only part of her visible in her flowing, black robes, widened in surprise. "So, it is true. You desire only your own sex. Lucky for you I have found a worm and not a horn or you and your tasaklar would be separated this night, like his once were," she said, nodding toward Sali'a who was standing behind her in the firm grip of two guards. "Lock her and the eunuch up." Two more guards pushed their way past Sali'a and grasped Jauharah.

"Me?" asked Sali'a in surprise. "It is the two of them who break the law. I have done nothing."

"And I have found you doing nothing," Nur al-Nagar replied flatly. "You will wait in your room until you are summoned," she said, turning to me, and with that she turned and swept out of the room. The last two guards stepped forward and escorted me to the domicile of the male concubines.

It was late before I was summoned to appear before Sheik Rahmah and he was not a happy man. Having nothing to hide and feeling no sympathy for Jauharah nor Sali'a, I told him exactly what had happened that evening, and when pressed, the other incidents I had with the two. Upon hearing my evidence, he ordered the entire household be brought to the inner courtyard, from his first wife Nur al-Nagar to Solomon the slave boy. Once everyone was assembled, he had Jauharah and Sali'a brought in, both in chains with a guard on either side and Jauharah as naked as when she had been seized by the guards. Sali'a was lead forward first.

"You are accused of having intercepted the concubine Naqi Ah ibn-Mustafa upon his return and taken him to the room where there waited the concubine Jauharah al-Bakara. What have you to say concerning this?"

"It is true, but I did only what I was bidden to do, my lord," he replied contritely as he stared down at his feet.

"And you were observed by my first wife to be guarding the door to that room so that none may enter, and none may leave."

"I was listening, my lord. To learn why I had been told to bring the concubine Naqi to join the concubine Jauharah." Jauharah shot him a challenging glance, clearly disbelieving him.

"Did you tell the eunuch your intentions when you told him to fetch the boy?" Sheik Rahmah asked.

"I did not think the concubine Jauharah would be so bold. I thought it was nothing more than a prank being played on the boy. I did not think she was serious, though it is not the first time the concubine has made overtures to the boy." Jauharah shot the eunuch another glare. "With the boy's encouragement," he added. It was my turn to glare at the man and raise my eyebrow in disbelief. "When I realized what they were about to do, I was about to call for the guards to apprehend them." That much was true. He had every intention of summoning the guard, once the two of us were in a compromising position. A man who lived his life according to protocol and tradition, he disapproved of Jauharah's lack of faithfulness to the sheik and disregard for the rule forbidding contact between male and female concubines. By alerting the guards she would be punished for her ways, and he would have his revenge against me by having me punished for having congress with one of the sheik's concubines. He had not counted on me not taking the opportunity to do so, nor the surprise appearance of the sheik's first wife, who had her suspicions about Jauharah.

The eunuch opened his mouth but glancing at the sheik's first wife, he shut it again, deciding it best not to say whatever it was he had been about to. "No, my lord."

"And you are accused of seeking pleasure yourself from your lord's concubine, Naqi Ah ibn-Mustafa," the sheik continued. Everyone's eyes widened with surprise at this accusation, including Sali'a's. He opened his mouth, most likely to deny the accusation as it would be his word against mine, but before he could speak, the sheik continued. "I am told you bear a fresh scar as proof of this confrontation." Sali'a closed his mouth. "You have something to say regarding this?"

"Then you shall be punished accordingly." Sheik Rahmah nodded to the guards, who evidently had been advised what would be expected of them ahead of time, or had brought accused before the sheik before. They stepped apart, one on either side of Sali'a and each with a chain fastened to one of the eunuch's wrists so that as they moved apart they pulled his arms away from his body until they were stretched out like Jesus's had been on the cross. The fifth guard who had stood unnoticed in the back stepped forward, a whip in his hand.

"Ten lashes for not ensuring there was no contact by any male with your lord's concubines," Sheik Rahmah pronounced. "Ten lashes for escorting the male Naqi Ah ibn-Mustafa to a room occupied by the concubine Jauharah al-Bakara knowing the concubine wished congress with him. And twenty lashes for attempting to have congress with the boy Naqi Ah ibn-Mustafa yourself."

Forty lashes! We stood there, the entire household from the sheik's first wife to the slave boy Solomon, and watched. Each time the whip lashed forward I tensed as if I myself were being whipped. I bore a grudge against the eunuch and he was guilty of all charges, but I found no satisfaction in witnessing his punishment. From the gleam in the eyes of the others, it appeared that I was the only one. With his pompous attitude and disregard for the responsibilities of a man in his position, he had made no friends among the household. When the guard was done, I was surprised the eunuch was still conscious never mind standing.

"I could have had you beheaded for these deeds instead," Sheik Rahmah advised. "But because you are my son's and was generously given to me on loan, I have spared you your life. But I know my son will want nothing to do with you upon hearing of your conduct, so I dismiss you now from my employ and from his and shall let it be known why." He nodded again to the guards who grabbed the eunuch by the arms and dragged him out of the courtyard to be thrown into the street. Jauharah was brought forward and her chains removed. She stood there naked and shamed before all of us and made no attempt to cover her nakedness. After witnessing what had happened to Sali'a, she stood there trembling, her eyes wide with fear.

"Jauharah al-Baraka, you have heard testimony that you have made overtures on more than one occasion toward the concubine Naqi Ah ibn-Mustafa, and that you arranged to have him brought to you this night in order to have congress with him in hopes of bearing his child. Do you have anything to say in your defence?"

She did so, her legs weak with such fear she could barely stand. The sheik rose from where he had been sitting and approached her from behind. Untying the sash about his waist, he let his robe fall from his shoulders, revealing he was wearing nothing underneath, and that he was fully aroused. Stepping up behind her, he took her from behind, there in the moonlight in front of all the household, from his first wife to the black slave boy Solomon. He penetrated her without lubrication and she tensed and cried out with the pain. If the assault caused him pain also, he did not show it. Grasping her hips, he thrust his to and fro, thrusting his cock up her cunt as if it were a dagger stabbing her and withdrawing to thrust forward again. His punishment was mercifully quick. Perhaps four dozen strokes and he was filling her womb with his seed, and, if she had been right, likely impregnating her with child.

"Your services as concubine are no longer desired," he announced, "but I am sure one with your lax morals will find no difficulty finding employment in a house of sharaamiT." A house of whores. He nodded to the two guards who had returned from escorting Sali'a out of the courtyard and they stepped forward and taking Jauharah by the arms, dragged her also out of our sight. A servant dashed forward and picked up the sheik's robe. Slipping his arms in the sleeves and tying the sash, he turned with a stony face and marched to his private apartment, followed by his wives. Assuming the rest of us were dismissed, we retired to our quarters.

The next morning we discovered a new eunuch had already been hired, a plump but muscular, sour-faced man of middle age whom we discovered knew his duties well and performed them with strict obedience. Sheik Rahmah remained home for the day and was said to be in sour sorts. That evening he entertained several prominent citizens of the city, and of course I was summoned to provide entertainment during the feast, and as they relaxed and talked over coffee afterward.

"And I say the jihad should be taken west, into Abyssinia," said one of the men more loudly than the rest, the result of too much wine and more than a little emotion. The mention of Abyssinia, the supposed location of the fabled land of Prester John, caused me to perk up my ears and listen more closely to the conversation. "They have been allowed to live unrestrained for too long. They must be made to submit to the authority of the Sultan of Cairo." (4)

"I agree it has been too long," stated another of the men, bowing his head in respect to the first speaker who was clearly the oldest and of the greatest authority, "but I hear there is an even greater need for us to press east. The Sultanate of Delphi I am told has become corrupt and weak. We must guard against another invasion of the Mongols from the north, or a resurgence of the Hindi population."

"Pagh," spat a third, "every one of those heathens should be decapitated regardless if they have renounced their faith. I ask you, can you trust the word of people who worship not one but hundreds of gods, and, I have been told, worship the phallus of their chief god, which is said to be in a state of eternal erection."

"That I would think would be painful, and most awkward, though worthy of worship," observed a third man, one of the youngest. I hid my smile as I thought about my trip across the desert after my encounter with the Bedouin sheikh. His attempt at humour brought glares of disapproval from the rest. He lowered his head and gestured apologies.

"The spiritual struggle against evil is nothing to joke about," reprimanded the elder sternly. "It is the duty of all Sunnites, by the heart, the tongue, the hand, and the sword. Does not the Qu'ran tell us the People of the Book, the ahl al-kitab, must be made to submit to Moslem authority and pay a poll tax, and all other kafir must be converted to Islam, or be executed? I say again, our priority should be the Christians of Abyssinia who pretend to be allies and seek our goods in trade but who send missionaries amongst us to convert our people to their faith. They must learn that being awarded the position of dhimmi does not protect them from our wrath when they lure the faithful away from the teachings of the Prophet, a thousand blessings on His name." (5)

The debate between those who felt they should invade west and those who felt they should shore up their defences east continued for two hours, but I learned nothing more about the Abyssinians and nothing about Prester John. Even so, I was sure King João would be most interested in this discussion, and I committed their words to memory.

That night Sheik Rahmah summoned me to his private chambers and we engaged in sex not once but three times, the sheik being in surprisingly good spirits and praising me for my fidelity to him, and observing several times it was fortunate for me that his wife had found me to be unstirred by Jauharah's attempt at seduction. As a reward for my fidelity, he presented me with a purse of silver coins that I know was equal to several month's wages of most men.

The following day, the twelfth day of Rabi' al-Awwal, was Mawlid an-Nabi, the birthday of the Prophet Muhammad. Sheik Rahmah and his two wives were invited to a feast to commemorate the occasion by the young man, Rashid Al-Mustansir, who had joked the previous day about the Hindi god who had a perpetual erection, and he had been asked to bring me along to entertain the guests. It was a controversial day, many of the faithful, particularly the elders and the imam, shunning any form of acknowledgement, saying that it was a sacrilege to celebrate the occasion in that birthdays were not considered significant in their culture. Others, particularly the younger and more modern thinkers, said the day should be spent feasting and doing charitable deeds in commemoration of the Prophet's birth. Rashid was of the latter belief, and from the number of guests and the lavish feast, a man of both power and wealth, two good reasons not to disagree with him. Although the women ate separately and after the men as was their custom, they joined the men for the entertainment later, which was most unusual. I was not the only entertainer, our host having also hired a juggler and a poet. Throughout the evening I noticed him watching me, and I knew that his interest concerned more than my voice or my playing. I had seen that look directed at me many times, and that night, I saw it on several faces, both male and female.

We were invited back the following evening, just Sheik Rahmah and I. Our host's interest in me the previous evening had not gone unnoticed by Sheik Rahmah. As we approached the man's palatial apartments, the sheik advised me that as far as our host knew I was employed as his entertainer and if the occasion arose where he expressed an interest in more than my singing or music, I was to say nothing about being the sheik's concubine and was to pleasure the man in whichever manner he desired. Rashid Al-Mustansir was clearly one of the rising young men and already a man of power, and a man the sheik was desirous of pleasing.

That night I was a guest, not an entertainer, and I ate with the sheik and our host while another entertained us on an ud and a santir. Our host, I discovered, was the son of a successful businessman who dealt in frankincense and other incenses from the Zaydi and Rasulids who ruled the land once ruled by the Queen of Sheba on the southern coast of this land; who traded regularly with the Abyssinians from whom they got coffee, pulses, copper and salt; and who traded with the Berbers of northern Africa who, he said, kept them supplied with Christian slaves. He and his father owned several small ships which sailed the Red Sea from as-Suways in the north to a land along the African coast far to the south where he said the people walked about totally naked, men and women, and wore bones in their noses and ears. He was a young man, mid-twenties, with a well-groomed, trim beard and moustache and a nut-brown complexion and was not unpleasant to look at. If he wished me to, I had figured it would not be an onerous task to please him, and when I discovered he owned ships that traded with as-Suways, I was most eager to please the man in whatever way he wished. The sheik and I were about to find out we had been correct about the nature of his interest in me, but what he had in mind in that regard neither of us could have expected.

"Allah has blessed you with a magnificent voice, and a great talent for music," he observed, addressing me. "And with fine looks besides."

I blushed and lowered my eyes with modesty as I acknowledged the complement, a natural response and one befitting one of my position and age, and one that I knew would please him.

"And Allah has blessed you finding such a one and securing his employment," he continued, addressing Sheik Rahmah.

"It is a joy to experience here on Earth a small example of the pleasures which Allah promises the Ghilman will provide the righteous in Paradise," the sheik responded, to me a blatant hint of other pleasures I had to offer.

"Indeed," agreed the bek cautiously, "although there are those who would question what constitutes righteous acts here on Earth, and just what those pleasures are that the Ghilman provide even though it is clearly written for all to read in the Qu'ran." He paused and took a sip of coffee. "There are those who claim a righteous man needs only a few wives and concubines here on Earth, and would restrict those pleasures of the Ghilman to serving wine and platters of fruit and playing good music."

"But you are not one of them," Sheik Rahmah dared to observe, confident in the rumours he had heard about our host.

"I do not keep secret what pleasures I enjoy on Earth," he said, glancing over at me, "nor what services I believe the Ghilman provide in the afterlife. Nor do you I have been told," he continued, looking again at the sheik. "I understand in your umra you have brought with you besides two of your wives a few of your concubines, both female and male." Sheik Rahmah was not the only one confident in what his sources had told him. Observing these two men was like watching a sparring match. Both were skilled, and I was learning much by just watching.

"It is true," Sheik Rahmah admitted, spreading out his hands in confession. "Life is harsh and a man must work hard, but success brings its rewards, and as you have said, there is more than one interpretation of what is righteous pleasure."

"And what do you say, my talented young entertainer?" he asked, turning to me again.

"I leave such weighty matters to my betters," I responded respectfully, "but as an entertainer I know some men find pleasure in the ud, others in the nay, and still others in the nababah. Such I suspect is the way with other pleasures, and who am I to question one man's preference over another's?"

"Well said," Bek Rahsid replied with a smile. "I suspected the two of you were of like mind as I, and I am glad that I was right." Beckoning to one of the servants, he said something to the man who immediately disappeared, taking the other servants and our musician with him. I had brought my nababah with me and Rashid asked if I would play and sing for them while we waited for his servant to return, and of course I was most happy to do so. His servant returned a short time afterwards with three young, black boys, one of them carrying three small hourglass-shaped drums strapped together. Leaving the boys at the door, the servant bowed deeply and quickly left and Rashid motioned the boys to come forward where he and the sheik were seated on pillows before a low table where they had been enjoying coffee and I was seated on a stool near them with my nababah.

"From time to time as our ships ply the coast we are brought slaves to trade in addition to our usual goods. My father and I pick the best before we sell the rest, of course. These three boys are my personal slaves, Christian boys from Abyssinia who had been captured by the Berbers and taken to as-Suways for sale. When it comes to providing sexual pleasure, I find black boys superior to all others. It is, I suspect, because their race is more primitive and they still have an animal instinct when it comes to sex."

"So I have been told," said Sheik Rahmah, his eyes bright with eagerness, "but I have never experienced congress with a black before."

"Then you are in for a pleasant surprise," Bek Rashid promised. "Doubly so, for these boys are also Christian. Christians are a foolish, stiff-necked people. They raise their boys with the belief that congress with those of their own sex is a sin and something to be ashamed of. It is an immense delight to watch them as they discover the pleasure they would have been denied. As they realize that their elders would have deprived them of such pleasure, they begin to question the wisdom of their elders, and the wisdom of their faith, and seeing the falsehood they have been raised under, they embrace the one and only true faith. Witnessing their conversion is a pleasure equal to the pleasures of the flesh! As for the blacks, being denied sex with their own gender is contrary to the nature of the black race, and indeed, is contrary to the nature of the male, so the enslavement of these boys has allowed them to be true to their nature, as you shall see."

During this discourse I turned pale and shifted uncomfortably upon the stool where I sat. To hear such criticism of my faith from a heathen was difficult to take silently. Even more difficult to take was the possibility that he was correct. What he had just described in four sentences described exactly what I had gone through these past fourteen months, and had it not been for the loving upbringing by my parents and the strength of my faith, I would have likely embraced Islam by now as he had said, and if I stayed with these heathens much longer, I quite possibly would. The turmoil I had gone through in the desert after my night with the Bedouin patriarch returned tenfold and my heart sank in misery. He was correct, in every sense.

He was correct about enslavement of the blacks also. I must confess that until that moment I had been very much against slavery. I did not feel it right for one man to restrict the freedom of another, and I still do not, but I had never thought of slavery in the terms that the bek just expressed, and I could not argue what he had said. In the case of the blacks at least, by enslaving them he was doing them a great favour.

Bek Rashid gestured to the boys and one of them, whom I figured to be about fifteen, went directly to Sheik Rahmah while the second whom I figured to be a year older approached Rashid. The third, about the age of twelve, stepped up to me. Without saying a word, the three boys sat beside us and reached out and slipped a hand inside our robes. Had I been singing at the time my voice would have raised several octaves as his hand explored inside my robe and found its way into my pantaloons. As it was, when I felt the boy's hot, slender fingers locate my member I almost dropped my nababah. The sheik and bek being similarly distracted, they did not notice my discomfort. Parting my robes and untying my pantaloons and easing them down over my hips, he grasped my member and began to stroke it.

The other two boys had similarly exposed the two men and were sitting there on the floor and stroking their cocks with one hand and playing with their balls with the other. Rahmah and Rashid sat there as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening, and, I suppose, nothing was as far as these two men were concerned. As I have said before, the perversity of these heathens knows no boundaries, especially when it comes to their lust for young boys. Soon I was erect, as were the two men who continued to sip their coffee and ignore the two boys stroking their cocks and playing with their balls. The young boy squatting beside me had meanwhile pushed my pantaloons further down and was now rolling my balls in their loose sack while teasing the bulb of my erect cock with his other hand while I tried to figure out what I should do about my nababah.

I soon felt myself approaching my orgasm and I wondered what I should do about it! To ejaculate there in front my host and my lord hardly seemed appropriate even if it was the natural thing to do. The young boy somehow knew I was approaching that point because he suddenly wrapped his thumb and first finger about my member below the knob and squeezed tightly, cutting off my desire to squirt, a technique I had learned myself and had practised numerous times on my clients and on myself. The other two boys similarly had ceased their pumping motions with their fists and were doing the same thing. Realizing the two men had reached the same state as I had made me feel better about having become so aroused so quickly, but realizing that they had also was so stimulating I felt a quiver pass up my swollen cock and I was afraid for a moment that I was going to squirt despite the boy's attempt to prevent it. To my relief, I did not.

Once our desires had subsided, the boys resumed stroking our cocks and playing with our balls, and the two men stretched back and closed their eyes and enjoyed the pleasure, no longer able to ignore the two boys. I similarly set aside my instrument, and let the young black boy play with the instrument he had in his hand. It was highly erotic having the young black boy stroking my member, and sitting there and seeing the other two boys stroking the stiff cocks of the two men. My cock throbbed with passion and the knob ached to be stroked. The boys were adept at what they were doing and brought the three of us to the point of climax another two times.

They then leaned over and taking our members in their mouths, they began to suck on our cocks as they slid their lips up and down our shafts. It did not take long for them to bring us to our peaks again, and this time they once again delayed the outcome by clamping their lips tightly about our shafts below our knobs. Once again I felt that need to spill my seed subside. As the black boy kneeling beside me resumed, I concentrated on the throbbing of my swollen, numb cock and inhaled and exhaled deeply with the pleasure he was bringing me, and I noticed my two companions had their eyes closed and were breathing heavily also. Watching the two black teenagers eagerly sucking their cocks as if they were the most delicious things they had ever tasted caused my member to throb and I suddenly felt my clear pre-nectar to ooze out of the tip of my cock.

My young cocksucker continued sucking as he swallowed my sweet offering, causing more pre-nectar to ooze out of the tip of my member. Slipping his mouth off my erect cock, he swirled his tongue around my bulb, licking up the clear droplet that had formed a bubble at the tip of my throbbing, aching member and causing another droplet to take its place. I noticed the two black teenager slaves were doing the same to Sheik Rahmah and the young Bek Rashid and seeing the two men oozing out that sweet nectar and the two black boys eagerly lapping it up caused me to ache with the need to spill my seed once again.

The three boys were as skilled with their lips and tongues as they had been with their fingers and thumb, and they brought us to that peak another two times. By this time the three of us were panting loudly with the pleasure pulsating between our legs and the desperate need to shoot. As I felt that desire welling up in my loins still again, I closed my eyes and sighed with ecstasy as my swollen, numb member clenched close the tiny hole at the tip to hold back the seed surging in my loins. I closed my eyes dizzy with pleasure as my cock throbbed and my balls ached, the rim of my knob burning as if the skin was being pealed from it and the tip of my cock itching and straining to draw my seed out.

At last I felt the twang deep in my groin and my seed raced up the core of my cock and spurted out of the burning tip into the mouth of the young black boy. After so many delays, my seed spurted out with a force like it never had before and I quivered and gasped with its strength. Spurt after spurt erupted from my cock in rapid succession until the young black slave's mouth was full of my slime and though he tried to gulp it down the force and speed at which I came made it impossible and my seed, a creamy thick slime, oozed out of his mouth and down over his smooth, black chin. From the gulping noises coming from the other two black boys they were evidently having the same difficulty swallowing the seed of my two companions. Never had I felt so overwhelmed by my orgasm and I openly gasped for air and moaned with the pleasure of my ejaculation, as did Sheik Rahmah and Bek Rashid.

As we reclined on the pillows and recovered, Bek Rahsid had the three boys disrobe and then had the oldest of the boys play the drums that he had brought while the other two boys danced in time to the beat of the drum. Stamping their feet and twisting and twirling, their dancing became faster and more vigorous as the beat of the drum increased until they were flailing their arms and their members were bobbing and slapping against their naked bodies. Watching their naked, black bodies twisting and jerking obscenely and their bodies beginning to glisten with sweat, including that of the black drummer, I felt the lust for flesh beginning to rise in my loins again, and glancing at the members of my two companions, I saw they too were beginning to become aroused. Finally having worked themselves up into a lustful frenzy, the three boys dropped before us and we rose and approached them, Sheik Rahmah pairing up with the twelve-year-old, Bek Rashid with the fifteen-year-old and I with the sixteen-year-old.

We took the three boys from behind, penetrating their tight black asses as they knelt there before us on knees and elbows. It was strange kneeling there and fucking a boy a year older that I in the presence of the two adults who were kneeling beside me and fucking also. I could not help but watch them and seeing the pleasure on their faces as they fucked the two black boys and watching them engaged in that most private of acts tripled my own pleasure. Despite our differences in age and in social status, the two men and I were united in our enjoyment of that perverse act. The throbbing pleasure between my legs and the delight of having a hot, moist ass enveloping my swollen, aching cock was the same as being experienced by the sheik and the bek.

The three of us knelt there trusting our stiff cocks in and out the black backsides of the three black boys and I felt a surge of lust once again as I noticed one and then the other man glance over at me and quicken his pace with increased desire. The boy I was fucking eagerly worked his anal muscles in time with my thrusts and withdrawals, evidently not only accustomed to being fucked but enjoying it, and I suspected the same was true of his two companions. The animal lust of the black race, being of a closer level to animals than white people as mentioned by the bek, is well known, and these three boys were no exception. Fortunate were they that their master recognized their natural prurience and provided them an outlet for their lust.

The sheik paused and I thought at first he was shooting his seed but I realized that he had stopped to enjoy the pleasure he was feeling, and to allow his own lust to subside so as to enjoy it all the longer. The bek soon did likewise and I followed suit, grasping the sweaty backside of my sixteen-year-old black boy and closing my eyes and delighting in the heat and moistness of his ass, my breathing heavy and rapid.

The three of us waited a long time before we resumed once more, the three of us going slowly to prolong the pleasure at first, but it was impossible for any healthy male not to speed up and all too soon we approached that peak a second time. The sheik was the first to come, grasping the hips of his twelve-year-old partner and thrusting his cock deep up the young boy's asshole as his seed raced up the core of his cock and filled the boy's rectum. The bek quickly followed, his stiff cock buried up the ass of the fifteen-year-old black slave to the hilt as he filled the boy. Inhaling deeply, I shuddered with the fragrance of fresh seed and the scent of animal lust of the three perspiring black boys and I too thrust my aching cock up the ass of my partner and filled his asshole with my seed.

We refreshed ourselves with wine, and to my surprise, the bek passed the bottle to the three black slave boys besides and all three readily quenched their thirst. The sheik complemented the bek on the skill of the boys, but observed that though the boys had clearly enjoyed congress with us, none of them had reached an orgasm. Bek Rashid replied that they could, and that even the youngest could produce seed, it being his experience that the black race reached puberty at a much younger age, also due to their base animal instincts he suspected. These three boys, he explained, had been trained to hold back their seed and these three in particular had amazing staying powers. To that the sheik commented that though a boy is a delight in himself, there was a certain freshness in witnessing one their age reach that ultimate point of pleasure, and to that the bek agreed.

"Not all men feel as you do," he observed. "In fact many prefer that they and they alone experience the pleasure that comes with the release of one's seed. I would not have suggested it if you had not mentioned your pleasure in seeing a boy in the throes of a climax, but there is a position that I myself find particularly erotic."

"If you would be so inclined, it would be easier if I have two of the boys demonstrate for you," Bek Rashid offered, and the sheik readily agreed.

He motioned to the two oldest boys, who had been sitting and listening to this conversation, and made an upward gesture with his middle finger and then a downward gesture with his thumb. Approaching the sheik, they sat on either side and began to caress him and fondle his privates. Having already come twice, it took him longer to become aroused but the boys were skilled and persistent and slowly his member began to swell. Once the sheik was erect, the oldest boy lay on his back and threw his legs up over his head and lowered them so he almost formed a circle with his body, his head and shoulders supported by several pillows and his backside raised in the air and his cock dangling above his face. Getting to his feet, the sheik mounted him that way, bending over and grasping the boy's legs for support while the other boy guided him into position and placed the tip of his erect cock against the oldest boy's anus. Already fucked that evening and the boy's asshole lubricated with my seed, Sheik Rahmah had little difficulty penetrating him. As he began to pump his hips to and fro, driving his cock in and out of the doubled-over boy's ass, the other boy knelt beside them and taking the boy's cock, he began to fondle it with one hand while he fondled his own with the other. Soon both boys were erect.

Bek Rashid glanced over at me and then the twelve-year-old slave and back at me. I knew what he was thinking and wanting to ask and I smiled and glancing around, gathered a couple pillows to support my head and shoulders. Delighted with my initiative, he crawled over to me on his knees and helped me assume the proper position, and then caressed my buttocks and ran the tip of his pointer finger over my anus. He worked up a mouth of spittle and spreading open my anus with his thumb and fingers of his right hand, he drooled his spittle into my hole and worked it up my rectum with the pointer finger of his left hand. Slowly inserting his finger, he worked it in and out of my rectum, causing my cock to begin to swell with arousal, and his to begin to swell also.

Quickly becoming erect, he stood over me and placing the tip of his member against my hole, he slowly pressed forward and down. I immediately relaxed and opened up to him and ever so slowly I felt his member begin to penetrate me. His knob slowly stretched open my anus and I strained to open up to him and ever so slowly I felt his knob penetrating until at last the rim cleared my anal muscle and my anus closed behind it. With his knob in my rectum, he easily slid his cock up my ass as far as he could, until his balls were pressing against my backside and his cock was buried up my hole to his balls. Grasping my legs for support, he slowly drew his cock back out and then shoved it back up my hole.

The twelve-year-old boy who had sucked me off earlier and then been fucked by the sheik, knelt beside me and reached up and began to stroke my cock. The sight of his slender, black fingers wrapping about my cock was enough to make it start swelling, and as he gently stroked it with his fingers it began to swell faster. He had his other hand in his lap and was playing with himself, stroking his limp but swelling cock and fondling his tiny black balls which were about the size of two walnuts and just as wrinkled. Slowly his cock began to swell until it was fully erect like my own. So I lay there on my shoulders and back being fucked by the bek while his black slave boy masturbated me and himself. The rim of my asshole burned with the friction of the bek's cock easing in and out of my body and from being stretched by his member, and the rim of my knob itched with the same burning sensation as his young slave boy's fingers brushed against it. My lust quickly rose in my loins and caused me to arch my back and inhale deeply with desire and the need to shoot my seed though, it being my third time, I knew it would take a while.

I squirmed with the double pleasure, that of my burning asshole and that of my burning bulb. My rectum throbbed hotly in time with his stiff cock and in time with my erect member. I squeezed my anus tight about his staff as he withdrew it and then relaxed as he sank it back up my backside. I inhaled and exhaled deeply with the pleasure pulsating about my anus and pulsating about my bulb. I could feel him deep inside me and the thought of a man being inside me and the knowledge of the pleasure that was giving him caused me to ache with desire. My stiff cock throbbed in the black slave's hand and his own breathing became deep and laboured as he pumped his fist up and down my cock while his other fist pumped his own little cock, shorter and more slender than my own and black as pitch. The bek's breathing was laboured also and I knew he was approaching his climax.

He paused then, to allow his lust to subside, and I was glad that he did because I too wanted this to last much longer. The black boy stopped milking my cock and stopped playing with his own and the three of us closed our eyes and concentrated on the pleasure pulsating through our flesh as our lust slowly faded. The bek then began to fuck me again, and the black boy to polish my cane and his too. It was a delightful feeling, and erotic, having a stiff cock throbbing deep in my body and having my own cock being squeezed tightly and stroked. Once more we approached that peak of ecstasy and this time the bek did not pause.

He began to fuck me more rapidly and more erratically and I knew he was close to ejaculating. The thought of his seed flooding my rectum caused my cock to throb hotly and my balls to draw up as they prepared to release their seed. I noticed the black boy's balls had tightened also and now resembled a large, black walnut. The three of us were breathing heavily and were about to come. The bek was first, throwing backs his head and sighing with pleasure as he felt his seed being released. He thrust his cock deep up my rectum and he groaned as the first of his seed spurted out the tip of his cock and up my rectum to be quickly followed by another shot and then another. At the same time my cock throbbed hotly and I felt a tremor along the deep blue vein on the underside. Seconds later my cock was spurting out my seed directly into my mouth! For the first time in my life I tasted my own seed, and it was delicious. Thick and creamy and slightly tart, spurt after spurt erupted from the tip as the black boy now slowly milked my cock. And then he was leaning in closer, his other fist a blur as he beat his member furiously, and then the tip of his little black cock opened and his seed, thin and watery, spurted out of the tip and into my mouth, joining my own thick seed. It had a fresh, celery taste to it, distinct from my own.

At the same time hot, thick seed flooded my rectum and basted Bek Rashid's pulsating cock. Still more hot thick seed, my own, continued to fill my mouth and the thin, watery seed of the twelve-year-old black slave boy mingled with it. I swallowed the slime, his and mine, and I trembled with the tart sweet taste of our combined seed, causing more of mine to squirt into my mouth. I could feel spurt after spurt of the bek's seed still shooting up my rectum and flooding my asshole, and I eagerly and lustfully swallowed my seed and that of the young black slave boy. In his excitement the twelve-year-old boy lost aim and his seed and mine sprayed my face, thick and runny blobs striking my forehead, across my nose and oozing down my cheeks. Never had I felt so wet and sticky. Never had I felt so good.

Later that night as the sheik and I returned to his apartments, I walked lightly, dizzy from too much wine and too much sex, the blood having drained from my brain just as my seed had been drained from my now tightly contracted balls. I giddily realized some of it was now in the pit of my stomach, along with the young black slave boy's slime, and I was very much aware of the bek's seed deep up my rectum and oozing out of my anus. My sight was blurred from the wine and my mind clouded with the bliss of my orgasms and I was finding it difficult to focus my thoughts. I was filled with seed and with joy, the joy of hot, delightful sex, and the joy of having possibly found a way to return to Cairo. It had been a wonderful, wild, pleasure-filled evening and the future looked bright. Life was wonderful and I was happier than I could ever recall being since my arrival in these heathen lands.

J.O. Dickingson

Travels with Nicolau Ribeiro

Chapters 21-22

21. Arabia

22. Mecca