At Her Command {3/4}afterandalasiaJune 6 2011, 15:53:26 UTC
She rarely comments on Jafar's appearance, though when she does it is usually vaguely complimentary. Jafar wonders whether she considers the boy attractive; looking critically, he can see the sun-browned skin, the hardened muscles, thick black hair and piercing eyes. Perhaps he could be considered good-looking, in the rough way of the commoners. Jasmine reaches to put one finger on his chin again, and this time he does not resist as she runs it down his throat, just flicking the collar of his tunic before putting her nail to her mouth and nibbling on it slightly.
"Why have you bought me here?" the boy asks, abruptly, and Jafar is about to step forward and strike him for his insolence when Jasmine gives a peal of laughter.
"Because you are very handsome," she replies, once her laughter has subsided. Her eyes are burning, and Jafar wonders whether she is thinking of their bed again. "And I want you to serve me."
"Me?" the boy splutters. "But I'm just... a street rat! Why would you want me?"
"Don't question my choices." The words come out cold and crisp, and the boy falls silent again, a mistrustful look on his face. "I want you to serve me my food, and carry things for me, and take messages. And I want you to pleasure me."
His eyes go wide, though neither her expression nor her tone have changed as she regards him. Even Jafar cannot suppress a hiss of indrawn breath at her statement, and he steps forward to put his hand on the small of her back. "Now now, my flower. Do you really mean such?"
Jasmine turns imperious brown eyes on him. There is no hint of uncertainty there, though there is far beneath the flickering flame of greed. "Of course. I always mean what I want."
Slowly, with a worried laugh, Jafar rubs circles on her back. "I'm not sure that..."
"I want him to please me, at my bidding," she says, curtly, cutting him off. Then her tone grows a little more playful, a smirk finding her lips. "Though if you so desire, you can watch as he does so. I know that you like it when I please myself. Can it not be better with two?"
For a moment he hesitates. He does not wish to share his princess, his pet, with anyone... but she seems quite taken with the boy. For now, at least. And it is true that to see her with her hand between her thighs is quite wonderous; he wonders what it might be like to watch another man fuck her. Indulgently, he says: "Very well."
She smiles wickedly, and kisses him, then turns back to the boy who has watched the whole exchange open-mouthed and astonished. "Come, I want to see how good you are. What is your name?"
"A-aladdin," he stammers. Most likely he has never seen any woman so beautiful as Jasmine, unless the quality of whores in Agrabah has most significantly improved since Jafar saw them last. Jasmine takes him by the hand and pulls him away towards her chambers, and once they are gone from the room Jafar laughs, long and loud and hearty, at what his wife has become. Only then, shaking his head and feeling himself grow aroused at the mere thought, does he follow to their chambers.
Jasmine already stands naked before her pillowed bed, her breasts high and round with dark nipples, her slender waist and pale thighs exposed to the air. The boy is undressing clumsily before her, fumbling with his unfamiliar clothes, as Jafar settles into a cushioned seat at some distance. The princess meets his eyes for a moment, smiles coyly, then gestures for Aladdin to come to her. He is already half-hard -- despite himself, perhaps? -- as he walks towards her uncertainly.
"Now," she says, "I want you to pleasure me."
"Princess--" he begins, but she silences him with a glare. He swallows, then drops to his knees in front of her, as she spreads her legs slightly for him.
"Why have you bought me here?" the boy asks, abruptly, and Jafar is about to step forward and strike him for his insolence when Jasmine gives a peal of laughter.
"Because you are very handsome," she replies, once her laughter has subsided. Her eyes are burning, and Jafar wonders whether she is thinking of their bed again. "And I want you to serve me."
"Me?" the boy splutters. "But I'm just... a street rat! Why would you want me?"
"Don't question my choices." The words come out cold and crisp, and the boy falls silent again, a mistrustful look on his face. "I want you to serve me my food, and carry things for me, and take messages. And I want you to pleasure me."
His eyes go wide, though neither her expression nor her tone have changed as she regards him. Even Jafar cannot suppress a hiss of indrawn breath at her statement, and he steps forward to put his hand on the small of her back. "Now now, my flower. Do you really mean such?"
Jasmine turns imperious brown eyes on him. There is no hint of uncertainty there, though there is far beneath the flickering flame of greed. "Of course. I always mean what I want."
Slowly, with a worried laugh, Jafar rubs circles on her back. "I'm not sure that..."
"I want him to please me, at my bidding," she says, curtly, cutting him off. Then her tone grows a little more playful, a smirk finding her lips. "Though if you so desire, you can watch as he does so. I know that you like it when I please myself. Can it not be better with two?"
For a moment he hesitates. He does not wish to share his princess, his pet, with anyone... but she seems quite taken with the boy. For now, at least. And it is true that to see her with her hand between her thighs is quite wonderous; he wonders what it might be like to watch another man fuck her. Indulgently, he says: "Very well."
She smiles wickedly, and kisses him, then turns back to the boy who has watched the whole exchange open-mouthed and astonished. "Come, I want to see how good you are. What is your name?"
"A-aladdin," he stammers. Most likely he has never seen any woman so beautiful as Jasmine, unless the quality of whores in Agrabah has most significantly improved since Jafar saw them last. Jasmine takes him by the hand and pulls him away towards her chambers, and once they are gone from the room Jafar laughs, long and loud and hearty, at what his wife has become. Only then, shaking his head and feeling himself grow aroused at the mere thought, does he follow to their chambers.
Jasmine already stands naked before her pillowed bed, her breasts high and round with dark nipples, her slender waist and pale thighs exposed to the air. The boy is undressing clumsily before her, fumbling with his unfamiliar clothes, as Jafar settles into a cushioned seat at some distance. The princess meets his eyes for a moment, smiles coyly, then gestures for Aladdin to come to her. He is already half-hard -- despite himself, perhaps? -- as he walks towards her uncertainly.
"Now," she says, "I want you to pleasure me."
"Princess--" he begins, but she silences him with a glare. He swallows, then drops to his knees in front of her, as she spreads her legs slightly for him.
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