Elias scrambled to his feet. He cleaned himself up as best he could, and saw her do the same. When he was presentable, he stood before the Queen, a hesitant question lingering in his eyes.
She met his gaze, a silent exchange passing between them. Then, she slipped into a silken red dressing gown and grabbed the thick reports brought by the silent server he had seen more than once in days before. Without a word, she turned and walked towards the door. Elias, heart pounding in his chest, followed close behind.
Unable to contain his lingering fear, he blurted out, “my Queen, please don’t… throw me away in the middle of the night.”
The Queen paused, her back to him. A soft chuckle escaped her lips, devoid of malice and laced with a hint of amusement. Turning slightly, she cast him a sidelong glance. “Who told you I was going to kick you out?” He didn’t know how to answer, or if an answer was even requested.
The Queen’s movements were purposeful as she snatched a flickering torch from a hidden alcove. Elias trailed behind, more confused than ever. They navigated a series of dimly lit corridors, the silence broken only by the rhythmic tapping of Elias’ bare feet against the cold stone floor.
They reached a heavy, ornately carved door. Two tall big-chested female guards stood sentinel on either side, their imposing figures exuding an aura of silent power. As the Queen approached, they didn’t question her presence. A curt nod was their only acknowledgment, leaving Elias feeling like a ghost in this clandestine procession.
The Queen pushed open the door, revealing a secret passage. “You were never meant to return to Gregor, you dummy,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”
“Do you think I would ever let go of that bubble ass!” she chuckled. “This week,” she continued, her voice dropping to a husky whisper, “was a short trial test. A glimpse into your potential. At the end, you could either become part of my court’s dancers for my entertainment.” She paused.
Then, her gaze met his, her eyes gleaming with an unexpected intensity. “Or… something more.”
He followed her in silence. Could this mean…?
“As you may know, I have an appetite… for submissive pretty boys, but finding the right ones is harder than you think,” she declared. “Submission is easy. Getting on all four and present your ass to your Queen is easy. Saying that you are mine is easy. But true submission is more than that. I want your heart, your mind and your soul. Owning your body is not enough.” Her gaze held his.
“When you ask the maids what kind of perfumed oil I like,” she continued, “or which hairstyle, when you seek out my favorite meal from the servants that are ordered not to chit chat with you, when you try to pry into my schedule with the guard that ignores you, when you are not only able to take a good pounding, but you crave it, when you don’t touch yourself, not even when left alone, when I call you pretty and you cum, untouched – that,” she stressed, “is when I truly own you. That, is the kind of submission I want.”
The truth hit him with the force of a tidal wave. She knew everything he had attempted to do to please her, every pathetic stumbling step. Of course, she knew.
A choked sob escaped Elias’ lips, barely audible in the echoing silence. All he had ever craved, above all else, was a sliver or recognition and attention. And here he was…
They finally reached the final door, a stark contrast to the rest of the passage. Made of a dark, reddish wood that seemed to devour the light, it radiated an aura of mystery. Etched into its center was a symbol both subtle and fierce.
Elias squinted, trying to decipher the intricate design. Two serpents, their scales rendered in a swirling mosaic of gold and sapphire, their bodies twisted together in a perfect, eternal loop. It was the same symbol – the circle – the silent servant had on his sleeve!
This was a representation of unity; the serpents were forever entwined, forever bound. But the most striking detail was a vertical band of gleaming gold that bisected the serpents at their midsection. It was a physical barrier, a constant reminder of the absolute power held by the Queen.
It wasn’t just a symbol; it was a warning. And as Elias looked at the Queen, a flicker of understanding sparked in his mind.
The Queen opened the heavy door with a set of keys he hadn’t noticed before and extinguished the sputtering torch.
“Welcome to my Harem, Elias.”
The Harem.
His name on her lips.
He felt like a bolt of lightning had struck him. An overwhelming urge, a primal need, surged through him – to fall to his knees, to press his lips against the cool porcelain of her feet in a gesture of complete devotion.
But before he could succumb to the impulse, the sight that unfolded before his eyes stole his breath.
The entrance hall was a masterpiece of opulent excess: soaring ceilings, embellished with gold mosaics. Polished obsidian floors, smooth as black ice, stretched out before them, adorned with intricately woven silk tapestries.
To their left, a grand staircase, sculpted from polished jade, each step adorned with the carved image of a different exotic flower. On the landing above, a balcony bathed in soft moonlight offered a glimpse of private chambers, each door intricately carved. Through a series of arched doorways on the right, Elias caught glimpses of other wonders. A vast bathhouse, its steam swirling with the scent of exotic flowers and spices. Beyond a curtain of beaded amber, a glimpse of a hidden garden offered the promise of tranquil seclusion amidst the vibrant energy of the harem.
Everywhere Elias looked, the air shimmered with a subtle magic. It wasn’t just a harem; it was a palace in a palace.
The air was pregnant of the intoxicating scent of the same perfume the Queen wore, a fragrance that was both heady and strangely comforting.
Lost in the sensory assault, he almost missed the man kneeling before the Queen.
The man had dark hair that brushed his eyes, hiding most of his face. Clad in what appeared to be silken trousers and a heavy black collar adorned with Harem’s symbol, he offered the Queen his complete and utter devotion. His head remained bowed; his attention solely focused on the woman he worshipped.
The Queen, her gaze soft and filled with a warmth he hadn’t witnessed before, reached down and gently stroked the man’s head. The action, so simple yet so intimate, sent a pang of jealousy through Elias.
He stood frozen, feeling like an intruder. The scene unfolding before him felt like a forbidden glimpse into a hidden world, a world where devotion manifested in ways he couldn’t quite comprehend. The Queen’s attention remained solely on the kneeling man; her voice laced with fondness.
“Did we wake you up, sweetie?” she cooed.
The man, his face still obscured by his hair, simply shook his head, offering no verbal response.
“Were you waiting for me?” she continued.
In answer, the man reached out with a long, languid lick to the Queen’s hand, looking like a pet longing for its owner. A giggle escaped the Queen’s lips.
“Did you miss me?” Another question that was answered by the man’s fervent licking. His tongue darted out, sweeping across her fingers once, twice, three times. His eyes, half-closed, followed the sticky messy path of his tongue.
“Is anyone awake?” Her voice was still playful yet laced with an undercurrent of authority. The man shook his head again, his dark hair falling like a curtain around his face.
The Queen chuckled, a sound both alluring and unsettling. “Mh, my sweet pet,” she murmured, “can you wake them up for me? I need to introduce someone to you all.” Her sweet words, devoid of concern for the late hour, held an undeniable power.
Suddenly, the kneeling man, like a live wire suddenly charged, snapped to attention. His feline eyes, previously downcast, flicked towards Elias with a predatory intensity. A silent exchange passed between them. Then, with surprising agility, the man rose and disappeared through one of the doorways Elias had glimpsed earlier.
Left alone with the Queen, he took a big breath in.
This wasn’t just any Harem; it was the Queen’s Harem. It felt like an out-of-body experience. His own body seemed far away, a mere observer in this scene ripped straight from his fantastical imaginings. For years, the harem had existed only in hushed rumors and fevered dreams, a forbidden paradise for the Queen’s chosen secret consorts.
Now, here he was, standing on its opulent threshold and it wasn’t just a dream anymore. His head was dizzy with questions, but one – the most important one – rose above the rest
He swallowed hard and finally spoke, “my Queen, does this mean I am part of your harem now?”
The Queen’s smile widened, “oh, silly pretty boy!” Her gaze sweeping over him in a slow, predatory manner, “my Harem is not a toy chest. It’s a living, pulsating organism, based on rules, unwavering trust, and absolute cooperation. Like a serpent shedding its skin, the Harem constantly evolves, and only who can adapt survive.”
She took a step closer, “you, pretty boy, need to learn these rules. The real test starts now and we will see,” she continued, her lips brushing against his cheek, “if you can be integrated and accepted… or if you will be spit out.”
Before he could say anything else, four men materialized on the jade staircase, their descent a whirlwind of rushing bodies and barely contained joy. He took a step back.
The one he recognized, the man with the dark hair and silent devotion, was among them. But the others were a revelation.
There was a towering giant of a man, muscles rippling beneath his silk garments, who dropped to one knee and kissed the Queen’s hand with reverence. Another, leaner, launched himself at her neck in a playful nuzzle. The last, a redhead with sleep clinging to his features, sauntered over, his attention solely on the Queen, a picture of languid contentment.
Despite their wildly different greetings – some formal, others bordering on playful chaos – one thing tied them all together. Each man stood bare-chested, clad only in soft, flowing trousers and a unique collar. The collars, adorned with the now-familiar symbol of the entwined serpents, came in a variety of colors, yet the mark of their servitude to the Queen was unmistakable.
Leave a Reply