My last tale
(Forever Autumn)
wasn't exactly a bundle of laughs so I thought I'd make amends by indulging in a little more whimsy (and hope to please those of my readers who have told me I should write more tales like this).
Characters in sex scenes are eighteen years old or over. All characters and places are imaginary—any resemblance to persons living or dead would be astonishing. With acknowledgements to Scheherazade whose umpteenth tale inspired this story and to Billy Wilder's 1959 film
Some Like It Hot
for inspiring about half-a-dozen lines of the tale's dialogue.
This story is dedicated to Sabina who enjoyed my
Space Oddity
tales.
Copyright © 2019 to the author
Harem Scarum
Aladdina's eyes widened and a tiny sigh of longing escaped her lips. This was her favourite bit of the harem's day: the Princess Yasmin was about to take her bath.
Oh, there were plenty of other visual delights in the huge chamber, most of the Sultan's hundred or so beautiful wives, concubines and hand-maidens lolling around nude to combat the seasonal heat. And there were always the ones apparently without shame who passed the time by masturbating openly or kissing and licking other women's
yonis
as ladies of quality called their sweet shaven clefts. Aladdina, being by birth and inclination a street girl, preferred the blunter terms of the market place such as 'pussy' or 'quim'.
(The first time she had spied on the harem, an enchanted Aladdina
had returned home to ask her mother, Saadia, the best way to remove hair from her pussy. In Aladdina's opinion, she was cursed with more pubic hair than any woman deserved to be. Saadia had shaken her head, wearied by some of the grandiose ideas that her daughter came home with at times. "Aladdina, you are day-dreaming again. Smooth pussies are for grand ladies, not those of us who have to earn a living, although goodness knows
you
do little enough of that. Such frivolities are not for the likes of us. A very hairy pussy is good enough for me and was good enough for your grandmother and for her mother before her so be satisfied with your lot in life and be grateful for your plentiful hairiness.")
So Aladdina could only envy the smooth pussies of the harem ladies. Yet all feelings of envy paled when the princess came from her inner chamber, shed her flimsy robe and allowed her hand-maidens to lead her into the bath's clear water and shampoo her lissom body all over. Aladdina believed, although she couldn't be certain, that the princess often had a climax when her pussy was being washed. Aladdina sighed again. Her all-pervading day-dream was that one day, by some miracle, she would be able to take the princess as a bride.
Aladdina had been in the market place one morning when the princess and her entourage had passed by. A sudden gust of wind had whipped at the palanquin's curtain which had rippled open by the merest fraction and Aladdina had caught a fleeting glimpse of the Princess Yasmin's unveiled face. Aladdina fell instantly in love.
She shifted a little on her uncomfortable perch. Aladdina had found this place some weeks previously during one of her rare occasions of honest employment. She had been helping a local trader deliver some goods to the palace and, growing bored while he dealt with the Sultan's treasurer, had wandered off to have a look around, see if there might be some easy pickings. And it was here that she had discovered the high wall surmounted by a trellis of arabesque carvings. Beyond, Aladdina could hear the chattering of women and spotting a narrow ledge climbed up and peered through the trellis. It was the harem and there was the princess.
Since then—and having found several breaches in the citadel's surrounding walls—Aladdina had sneaked into the palace whenever she could evade the guards and made for this point where she could gaze into the harem. She always carried a wicker basket with her so that if questioned she could claim to having been delivering goods.
But on this day Aladdina had grown careless, paying no attention to anything but the Princess Yasmin and other residents of the harem. Without warning, a huge hand gripped the back of her neck and she was hauled from the ledge and plonked on the marble flooring. She found herself staring into the fierce hawk-like eyes of a Sultan's janissary.
And not only his eyes were fierce. His huge hooked nose was fierce, his bristling black whiskers were fierce, and above all the long curved dagger held against Aladdina's throat was fierce. In fact, 'fierce' was an inadequate word for that weapon. Something about it made Aladdina glad that she'd gone to the privy before leaving home that morning.
"Sooo!" hissed the soldier, glaring down on the boyish figure before him. "What's this? A dirty dog of a snooper, eh? Do you know what we do with dirty dogs of snoopers?"
Gulping, Aladdina shook her head.
"We cut their dangling bits off!" snarled the janissary, "And when we've cut their dangling bits off we cut their heads off. So say goodbye to all three, you little wretch!"
"You'll have a hard job cutting my dangling bits off," said Aladdina.
"Why's that? And don't think you can camelshit me—I've heard all the excuses!"
"Because I haven't got any," Aladdina told the man, loosening the front of her tunic to reveal neat little breasts with prominent nipples.
The guard goggled then roughly tugged the front of Aladdina's pantaloons open to peer down. "You're a girl!" He looked puzzled. "Now here's a dilemma. We've been told what to do with dirty dogs of snoopers but not what to do with curious cats of snoopesses." He stroked his oiled beard then leered. "There is something we can do and if it pleases me I might forget I've ever seen you."
Aladdina knew exactly what was in this lecher's pinhead of a mind. "You mean..."