Tunisian Dreams

Ali Dey, the ruler of Ottoman Tunis, woke up when he felt something jumping on his pillow. A silk face rubbed his jaw and started purring.

His cat Ghost must have convinced his guards to let her into his apartment. Probably by demanding that so loudly, the soldiers rather send her in than wake their lord. AGAIN. She was a huge, long haired, Turkish cat, the size of a small dog and devoted to Ali. If it was up to her she would follow him around all day.

He reached out and stroked her back. The sun was not up yet. "Shhh go to sleep," he muttered. She walked over to her favourite spot just above his hip, her long haired tail high in the air, and curled herself up in a ball and fell asleep.

Ali however was now wide awake. It did not matter how hard he tried but his sleep evaded him. It was cold in the early morning hours. He reached down to find the blanket. The cat rising to get on top of the bedding. Ali looked to his side where a milky white naked back was stretched on the bed.

Oh yes his new concubine. That Dutch woman. Sara.

She seemed fast asleep. Ali draped the sheet and blanket over her form and covered himself too. Ghost was shoved over the bed and decided she would sleep on top of the blanket instead of under it. Ali laid back down.

This woman. This slave that they had given to him as a present. But who he had never met until yesterday when he had walked into her telling stories to his children.

His eunuch had made the mistake never showing her to him thinking he would not be interested in a woman way over thirty.

But he had been curious. This woman who was telling stories from far away countries. Thia woman who spoke many languages. And who had eyes the colour of the sea and a white skin. And unlike his favourite concubine Leila who also came from Holland had an air about her of wisdom.

Or had it been the way she looked at his children that made him feel something for her? The warm smiles and the hands that grabbed toddlers about to tumble into the pool. He suddenly had felt a need for her to smile so at him. To bath in that love.

He had wives that respected him for what he was: a mighty ruler. He had concubines who knew they had to please him in bed and were grateful for the good life they got in return. But none of these women gave him such a look of love as this woman had given his children.

So he had told his head eunuch to send her to his bedchamber.

Ali looked at her sleeping form. Her face turned away from him he only saw her honey coloured hair and the white of her arm and shoulder.

She had not smiled that warm smile when she was send to him. Her eyes had been blue lakes and her face white as a sheet. He had seen a mixture of fear and curiosity on her face when he had removed her veils and slowly peeled away her cloths.

His wives had come to his marriage bed happy to have made such a good match. His slaves he had made his concubines felt honoured to be chosen into a life of luxury away from manual labour. Oh yes his head eunuch selected those girls. He would see who would like the art of bedding and pleasing his lord. Only in the case of that other Dutch virgin had Ali encountered a woman who became hysteric by the mere fact of being taken. Well he had given that one to an old gentleman who would appreciate her cooking and her company but who did not feel the need anymore to have a woman.

But this one. This Sara. He had noticed how her lower lip trembled and tried to make her comfortable. He had been gentle. After lifting her up and carrying her to his bed he had given her the treatment of the hundred kisses. Nuzzling her fingers, kissing her fingertips and the palm of her hands. Kissing his way down from her collarbones to her belly button.

He could feel her fear in the stiffness of her body so he had tried to make her laugh by suddenly telling her he was going to eat her and then blowing in her bellybutton like he did with his kids. That had worked. A giggle had escaped her.

But when he had proceeded to kissing her lips and taking her nipples in his mouth he still saw her look at him with anticipation, curiosity and fear.

"Sara," he had said. "Do not be afraid. This is what men and women do when they are alone in the bedroom. There is nothing to be afraid of. Maybe the first time hurts a bit or when a man takes a woman in her ass or in her channel and is too rough but normally this is something people like to do. I will be gentle with you. I will be good to you. Just trust me. I am a good master."

"I have never done this my Lord," she had whispered.

"Yes I know my Sweet," he had said. "I will do something most women really like. Just wait and see."

And he had bent down between her legs and had slowly licked her secret places. First she had almost jumped and seemed about to run off but then he had noticed her relaxing. Probably thinking if this was it it was not that bad.

He had noticed how her vagina started to get wet and her muscles seemed to clamp around nothing. So slowly and carefully he had added a finger into her tight virginal channel while licking her clit. He had started to move the finger about noticing her reactions to his work.

Looking up from between her legs he saw her face shake and his finger was coated in her honey. Yeah he knew how to make a woman come. He was after all an experienced lover.

But this was nothing yet. He inserted a second fingertip into her tightness and although she was now very wet this was already stretching her. He noticed how limp she was, how she was panting. It should be done now. This was the moment and he was not able to wait anymore anyways.

But when he bowed down over her and she felt his cock against her sensitive flesh the fear flared back into her eyes. Her face twitching in pain when he ripped through her hymen. Gasping under him.

"Shhhhh my sweet, shhhh. We just do this nice and slowly."

He had felt when her pain had gone because he could feel her relax again. But although he had a shattering orgasm filling her up with his semen she had not come. But Ali was sure she would the next time when it would not be scary and would not be painful. He was a big man and he would have stretched her to her limits. He had just turned around and hold her in his arms slowly rubbing her back. Somehow he had fallen asleep in the process.

Now in the early hours of the morning he longed to be inside her again. But she would be sore and would be stiff. Soon but not today. He was no selfish brute.

He wondered how he could change that look in her eyes. The uncertainty, the fear, the sadness. She was his. His slave. But he would want to see her smile and hear her laugh. To see that look she gave his kids.

Somehow Ali must have fallen asleep again as he woke up later because he heard someone speak in riddles.

"Puspuspuspus."

Ali could feel Ghost move. He opened his eyes and saw the cat sit at his side. Her whiskers pointing to a hand offered to her. A hand attached to a woman with a mass of honeycoloured hair dropping to her waist.

He was about to warn her Ghost would attack everyone who touched her apart from him when the cat stood and crossed over to the woman using his belly as a bridge. The huge cat flapped down on her lap, her front paws on the thigh of his slave, her tail draped over her other crossed leg. A loud purring started. Ali could hardly believe his own eyes.

Ali looked at the face of his concubine. She looked down at the huge cat slowly stroking its back. A look of love and warmth aimed at the feline. Both of them instantly connecting.

"So Ghost," said the Dey. "I see you like my sweet Sara as much as I do."

The cat mewed him a greeting and walked over to make sure the master did not feel abandoned. Purring on his chest, rubbing her face against his jaw and nose. But then turning back again to drape itself on Sara again.

Ali laughed. He noticed Sara's look of fear changing into a genuine smile.

"Do you like cats my sweet?" he asked he.

"I always had them when I was a child my lord."

"How many did you have Sara?"

"My father had two. A male and a female. Good against the mice and the rats from the canal. But also so much fun to play with. They are smart. And when they love you like this one seems to adore you you know it is for real and not like a dog who likes everyone who is kind to it."

It seemed their talk of cats made her at ease.

"I found Ghost as a stray kitten in my cabin after we had sailed from Istanbul," Ali told Sara. She scratched me raw, hid in my luggage and the whole room reeked of cat urine by the time we reached Tunis again. But somehow by that time she had decided I was hers. So I took her here. She now behaves. Don't you Ghost? She now pees in the garden and only scratches others."

The cat was answering each time she heard him say her name. The benevolent ruler on the throne formed by the woman's legs, completely contradicting the story of her sharp claws.

"The female was the same with my father. She would offer him dead mice for breakfast. Placing them right in front of the kitchen door."

Sara looked down at the cat with such a lovely expression on her face thought Ali. How could he make her love him that way?

Suddenly it came to him. Like he had done with the cat. Slowly convincing her he was not scary. Feeding her good snacks. Holding her and making her get comfortable with his body. Slowly convince her he cared for her.

"Sara," he said. "I think your lessons are valuable. I want you to teach me those foreign words as well and tell me all you know about European warfare, defences, science."

"Yes my lord", she answered.

"I am a busy man. I want you to come to this room every morning with my breakfast like you will see a servant do this morning. Normally the woman who sleeps in my bed will go with me to my bath and wash me but from now on that will be you. While you bath me you can teach me all those foreign words."

She nodded and said: "Yes my Lord."

He felt confident that would do the trick. She would get used to him, get comfortable touching his body and speaking with him and like the cat fall under his spell. And all he would learn from her would be a nice side effect. He would not sleep with her though. He would let her yearn for him before he would take her again.

But his remark that from now on she did not have to be the nanny of the royal children anymore and would be moved to her own room brought tears. So he asked if she wanted to take care of the children even if she was not a servant anymore but a concubine. She nodded.

He told her that if she wanted to she could continue teaching his young ones as he realised it was a good thing to teach and train the princes and princesses. But that he would assign her a woman to assist her with the care so she could focus on her tasks she had to do for her lord as well.

He got up off the bed and told her to follow him to the bath. He saw how she winced.

"Sweet one did I hurt you? You must be sore and your muscles stiff from unusual use."

She blushed feverishly and nodded, rubbing her lower belly.

He walked them to a small bath and stepped into the deep pool to sit on a build in bench.

"Now my sweet you pick up that cloth and start soaping me."

He watched how she blushed while she touched all of his body to wash him. He had to restrain himself from touching her breasts while she bend over to soap up his legs. This would be a slow conquest. But he hoped in the end she would yield. His eunuch had been so wrong. She might be not that young and maybe not give him sons but she was a gem he would treasure.

The mighty Dey of Tunis did not realise that it was him who had already opened the gates to his own heart.

(To be continued)