FIC: Garlands of Sapphires, Fountains of Joy (Jaffar/Princess/OFC, NC-17), chapter 8/10
Title: Garlands of Sapphires, Fountains of Joy
Author: snowgrouse
Fandom: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Pairing: Jaffar/Princess, Princess/OFC, Jaffar/OFC, Jaffar/Princess/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotica, historical romance, het and femslash
Warnings: Hard BDSM, heavy anal play including anal fisting, enema play, group sex
Length: ~67 000 words
Summary: After years of peaceful family life in Samarkand, Yassamin's desire for women bursts into flame once more. Enter Zainab, a young widow as lustful as she is beautiful; she sets out to seduce both Yassamin and Jaffar, to prove herself the greatest libertine in the land. However, Jaffar's pride cannot abide this; he is determined to prove Zainab wrong. Yassamin is caught between the two, each trying to outdo the other in debaucheries; yet gladly, she lets herself be ravished by both, reaping the greatest pleasures imaginable.
A/N: Part 9 of the Of Roses Unfurling series. Begins with Yassamin and Jaffar settling into a new family life in Samarkand, then plunges back into their good old polyamorous, kinky bisexual fun. This time, Yassamin gets more femslash action and Jaffar gets to use his BDSM domming skills on another woman. Zainab is played by a grown-up Bonita Granville in all her curvaceous glory (see here for photo references).
(Zainab tosses the pendants back into the chest, snapping it shut and drawing it towards herself. “Only the Calipha is richer than I. Name your price, and I will double it.”
Jaffar places his hand over hers on the chest, and now Zainab finally looks at him, truly looks at him. His gaze lingers upon her, and Yassamin wonders if he is trying to hypnotise her; going by the tremor in Zainab’s bosom, he has made a shiver go down her spine. He smirks once more, stroking the plump flesh of Zainab’s hand, squeezing a piece of its paleness between his long, dark fingers. “A night with you, my dear lady.”
Zainab looks at his hand, then challenges his gaze proudly. “As revenge for having so pleasured your wife?” she says.
Interesting that she does not say yes or no, Yassamin thinks; Zainab’s chest is still heaving, and now there is a flush upon her cheeks.
“Partially,” Jaffar says and tilts his head, encompassing her with a flick of his eyelashes. “Perhaps a little revenge,” he purrs, now tracing his fingertip up Zainab’s brocaded arm, to the edge of her jacket where her full white breasts spill out of it. “But mostly, pleasure,” he says, hooking his finger into one of the jacket’s golden button-loops, leaning in close enough to kiss. “Now, would you still offer to double the price?” he says, pulling her closer to himself by her jacket, his lips nearly upon hers.
Zainab flicks down her eyelashes, glancing at his gleaming, red mouth; she makes no move to extricate herself. “Only if I get to keep the jewels. That is my final offer.”
“Done,” Jaffar says, and not for a moment does Yassamin believe him, even if Zainab seems to be too dazed from lust to care, now; so confident is she in her own beauty, her authority as the uncrowned queen of this land.
Jaffar retrieves his finger and traces it up Zainab’s breast, across her collarbone and up to her neck, feeling for her pulse. Even through their psychic link, Yassamin can tell Zainab is so aroused Jaffar can smell her cunny; a cunny wet from vanity, from greed. Zainab still thinks she shall be the victor in this game, and Yassamin has to laugh: her cunny clenches as she watches Zainab shivering in pleasure as Jaffar caresses her hair, nuzzling her mouth with his.
“But, come,” Jaffar says onto her lips. “You have not even tried them on yet.”
“I do not need to,” Zainab says and shakes her head; she leans in to kiss Jaffar.
Yet at the last moment, Jaffar sinks his hand into her hair and yanks back her head. “Oh, but I insist,” Jaffar purrs, freeing her breasts from her jacket; he lifts out one of the pendants and traces its metal clip across one nipple, then the other, adoring the way they rise up into the cool touch of the silver metal. “Think of it as a part of our bargain.”
“Done,” Zainab rasps.)
Author: snowgrouse
Fandom: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Pairing: Jaffar/Princess, Princess/OFC, Jaffar/OFC, Jaffar/Princess/OFC
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotica, historical romance, het and femslash
Warnings: Hard BDSM, heavy anal play including anal fisting, enema play, group sex
Length: ~67 000 words
Summary: After years of peaceful family life in Samarkand, Yassamin's desire for women bursts into flame once more. Enter Zainab, a young widow as lustful as she is beautiful; she sets out to seduce both Yassamin and Jaffar, to prove herself the greatest libertine in the land. However, Jaffar's pride cannot abide this; he is determined to prove Zainab wrong. Yassamin is caught between the two, each trying to outdo the other in debaucheries; yet gladly, she lets herself be ravished by both, reaping the greatest pleasures imaginable.
A/N: Part 9 of the Of Roses Unfurling series. Begins with Yassamin and Jaffar settling into a new family life in Samarkand, then plunges back into their good old polyamorous, kinky bisexual fun. This time, Yassamin gets more femslash action and Jaffar gets to use his BDSM domming skills on another woman. Zainab is played by a grown-up Bonita Granville in all her curvaceous glory (see here for photo references).
(Zainab tosses the pendants back into the chest, snapping it shut and drawing it towards herself. “Only the Calipha is richer than I. Name your price, and I will double it.”
Jaffar places his hand over hers on the chest, and now Zainab finally looks at him, truly looks at him. His gaze lingers upon her, and Yassamin wonders if he is trying to hypnotise her; going by the tremor in Zainab’s bosom, he has made a shiver go down her spine. He smirks once more, stroking the plump flesh of Zainab’s hand, squeezing a piece of its paleness between his long, dark fingers. “A night with you, my dear lady.”
Zainab looks at his hand, then challenges his gaze proudly. “As revenge for having so pleasured your wife?” she says.
Interesting that she does not say yes or no, Yassamin thinks; Zainab’s chest is still heaving, and now there is a flush upon her cheeks.
“Partially,” Jaffar says and tilts his head, encompassing her with a flick of his eyelashes. “Perhaps a little revenge,” he purrs, now tracing his fingertip up Zainab’s brocaded arm, to the edge of her jacket where her full white breasts spill out of it. “But mostly, pleasure,” he says, hooking his finger into one of the jacket’s golden button-loops, leaning in close enough to kiss. “Now, would you still offer to double the price?” he says, pulling her closer to himself by her jacket, his lips nearly upon hers.
Zainab flicks down her eyelashes, glancing at his gleaming, red mouth; she makes no move to extricate herself. “Only if I get to keep the jewels. That is my final offer.”
“Done,” Jaffar says, and not for a moment does Yassamin believe him, even if Zainab seems to be too dazed from lust to care, now; so confident is she in her own beauty, her authority as the uncrowned queen of this land.
Jaffar retrieves his finger and traces it up Zainab’s breast, across her collarbone and up to her neck, feeling for her pulse. Even through their psychic link, Yassamin can tell Zainab is so aroused Jaffar can smell her cunny; a cunny wet from vanity, from greed. Zainab still thinks she shall be the victor in this game, and Yassamin has to laugh: her cunny clenches as she watches Zainab shivering in pleasure as Jaffar caresses her hair, nuzzling her mouth with his.
“But, come,” Jaffar says onto her lips. “You have not even tried them on yet.”
“I do not need to,” Zainab says and shakes her head; she leans in to kiss Jaffar.
Yet at the last moment, Jaffar sinks his hand into her hair and yanks back her head. “Oh, but I insist,” Jaffar purrs, freeing her breasts from her jacket; he lifts out one of the pendants and traces its metal clip across one nipple, then the other, adoring the way they rise up into the cool touch of the silver metal. “Think of it as a part of our bargain.”
“Done,” Zainab rasps.)