FIC: Garlands of Sapphires, Fountains of Joy (Jaffar/Princess/OFC, NC-17), chapter 9/10
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).
(Briefly, Jaffar pulls his cock out, and Zainab’s arse gapes, heaves, as if sighing more, I am empty without you, more; Zainab moaning “Please, Master, more,” so quiet a whisper it is swallowed by the sheets entire.
Softly, sweetly, Yassamin takes Jaffar into her mouth; she nearly comes there and then as the dark, deep salt of Zainab’s arse, deeper than what she could reach with her tongue, now dissolves upon her palate. The glands underneath her tongue flood her mouth with saliva, as if she were sucking upon a delicious sweet; she keens, rubbing herself, rubbing, transferring her pleasure onto Jaffar’s cock with the force of her voice, the depth of it to him as she lets him briefly gag her throat. She coughs, shivers, the fastest, quickest of clitoral orgasms whipping through her as she so milks her husband; still, she sobs as Jaffar laughs softly, cruelly, wiping tears from her eyes with his thumbs.
“Return it to her wet,” Jaffar says, a command as firm as it is quiet; “slick it up, my child; slick it up so that I might take her deeper.”
And Yassamin does as she is told, now never taking her eyes off the skies of Jaffar’s, her very submission making him hiss with such pleasure so that his stomach dips, ripples against her huffed, short, fast breaths. His very nipples crinkle, the hair on his arms standing on end as he cups Yassamin’s jaw in his hand, taking Zainab’s arse with his fingers at the same time; he tenses like a hound, wanting to pounce, pounce, leap and tear and ravage and maim. Oh, Jaffar may want Yassamin to be swift, but she knows his perversion for delay, and thus, teases him to the utmost: slowly, she rolls her head, entranced, dancing, swaying into his rut in worship as she slickens his cock.
“Enough!” Jaffar cries, rasps; he pulls his cock out of Yassamin’s mouth so swiftly thick strings of phlegm lash from her mouth onto her throat and onto her breasts; these, Jaffar slurps off her, sucks off her only to spit them into Zainab’s arse, pushing them brutally inside of her with his fingers to slicken her up more, more, more. He slaps his cock against his stomach, hissing through his teeth as Zainab wails at his hooking fingers, now three and long and tugging upon her like claws. Finally, he tugs them out, still hooked out, and before Zainab has even finished screaming, he replaces them with his cock.
And with this new gloss of slickness, a new tug of Yassamin’s fingers to ease the way, Jaffar slides deeper into Zainab than ever before: Zainab makes to howl, but her noise is crushed in her throat as Jaffar presses into her, throwing her into the bed with his entire weight.)
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).
(Briefly, Jaffar pulls his cock out, and Zainab’s arse gapes, heaves, as if sighing more, I am empty without you, more; Zainab moaning “Please, Master, more,” so quiet a whisper it is swallowed by the sheets entire.
Softly, sweetly, Yassamin takes Jaffar into her mouth; she nearly comes there and then as the dark, deep salt of Zainab’s arse, deeper than what she could reach with her tongue, now dissolves upon her palate. The glands underneath her tongue flood her mouth with saliva, as if she were sucking upon a delicious sweet; she keens, rubbing herself, rubbing, transferring her pleasure onto Jaffar’s cock with the force of her voice, the depth of it to him as she lets him briefly gag her throat. She coughs, shivers, the fastest, quickest of clitoral orgasms whipping through her as she so milks her husband; still, she sobs as Jaffar laughs softly, cruelly, wiping tears from her eyes with his thumbs.
“Return it to her wet,” Jaffar says, a command as firm as it is quiet; “slick it up, my child; slick it up so that I might take her deeper.”
And Yassamin does as she is told, now never taking her eyes off the skies of Jaffar’s, her very submission making him hiss with such pleasure so that his stomach dips, ripples against her huffed, short, fast breaths. His very nipples crinkle, the hair on his arms standing on end as he cups Yassamin’s jaw in his hand, taking Zainab’s arse with his fingers at the same time; he tenses like a hound, wanting to pounce, pounce, leap and tear and ravage and maim. Oh, Jaffar may want Yassamin to be swift, but she knows his perversion for delay, and thus, teases him to the utmost: slowly, she rolls her head, entranced, dancing, swaying into his rut in worship as she slickens his cock.
“Enough!” Jaffar cries, rasps; he pulls his cock out of Yassamin’s mouth so swiftly thick strings of phlegm lash from her mouth onto her throat and onto her breasts; these, Jaffar slurps off her, sucks off her only to spit them into Zainab’s arse, pushing them brutally inside of her with his fingers to slicken her up more, more, more. He slaps his cock against his stomach, hissing through his teeth as Zainab wails at his hooking fingers, now three and long and tugging upon her like claws. Finally, he tugs them out, still hooked out, and before Zainab has even finished screaming, he replaces them with his cock.
And with this new gloss of slickness, a new tug of Yassamin’s fingers to ease the way, Jaffar slides deeper into Zainab than ever before: Zainab makes to howl, but her noise is crushed in her throat as Jaffar presses into her, throwing her into the bed with his entire weight.)