FIC: The Fields of Longing (Jaffar/Princess, NC-17), part 6/6
Title: The Fields of Longing (part 6/6, completed fic)
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Pairing: Jaffar/Princess, Jaffar/Male!Princess
Rating: NC-17, gen in half of the chapters
Genre: Romance, Historical, Drama
Warnings: Light BDSM, anal sex, ass to mouth, sex change, genderswap, very lightly dubious consent, non-graphic discussion of consent issues and past abuse, see Ao3 for full list of tags
Length: ~32 000 words
Summary: Jaffar and his family take in an orphaned cheetah cub; with the aid of magic, they set out to teach him in the ways of the hunt. However, a spirit-bond with a wild beast has its dangers: Yassamin and Salsabil start to become drunk from the chase, swooning from the blood of the kill. Even Yassamin’s desires begin to turn more brutal, she behaving so very unlike herself; while Jaffar but relishes this at first, Yassamin soon realises she has to control this blood-intoxication for the sake of herself and her children. It is time to balance the wildness of the hunt by moving towards a love gentler, and to cultivate the children’s skills at arts, love and empathy instead. Meanwhile, Sonbol comes to Jaffar with an unexpected request-one concerning the matters of love…
A/N: I actually finished this before Unto Ishtar A Sacrifice and The Emerald Meadows, so you can read these three fics in any order you wish. Technically, Sacrifice and Meadows take place after this one, as far as I was concerned, but it doesn't really matter. Smut fiends should also note that chapters 1, 3 and 6 are the ones with the sex scenes, while other (much shorter) chapters are gen.
(Yassamin looks up at him tenderly, cradling his prick against the softness of her cheek. “What is it that you want, my love?”
“You,” he moans and springs up from the bed, pulling off her kaftan, taking her to lie on top of himself, holding her tight. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I want to be inside that little cunny after all,” he says and smacks her arse with both hands, spreading her so that he can now slip his cock between her thighs. “Right here,” he sighs and kneads her buttocks, moaning in delight as she squeezes him between her thighs, wetting him with her arousal. “Please, Yassamin.”
“Mm,” she says, almost absent-minded: again, her attention is drawn to the bag. “Let’s see what you brought us, first.”
It is a toy somewhat different from what he had given to his servants: it is a long prick made of a light brown leather, double-headed, all of eighteen inches long.
“Oh, my!” Yassamin cries as she holds it, weighing it in her hands. For it is indeed a heavy beast, yet so well-padded that the mechanism cannot hurt the user-or rather, the users.
“How does this work, then, my genius?” she asks.
“It has a thrusting mechanism on the inside,” he says and takes one end in his hand, stroking it playfully. “Heavy metal spheres thrust back and forth by a magnetic force, which you activate with a spell,” he tells her, giving the toy a little rub with his thumb as he whispers a rune.
Immediately, the prick begins to judder, the beads thrusting back and forth inside of it; they move so fast and with such force the toy nearly flies out of Yassamin’s hands.
“Like a woodpecker!” Yassamin cackles, having nothing else to compare it to.
“Do you want me to call it that?” Jaffar laughs.
“Perhaps not,” she says and shakes her head. “So this is meant for a couple to use?”
“Yes. Or, of course, a woman can wear it in both orifices simultaneously, but I suspect that would be a little uncomfortable,” he winces. “I expect it’d be easier for you to wear it in your cunny, but…” he draws his fingertip up the toy, flashing her a wicked glance. “I would love to see if I could take you while we were both sodomised by it,” he tells her, adoring the way her eyes widen, reflecting his most lecherous leer. “We would have to hold it in place with magic, of course.”
She raises her eyebrow, measuring the toy. “Being taken by Sarosh would be easier, if you but gave him two pricks.”
“But that’s exactly why I made it. So we wouldn’t have to go downstairs if we wished to be taken as we took each other. Lazy, I know, but…”
“All right,” she says, laughing. “But you’re on top. I’m too tired to ride.”
“I’m not feeling very athletic myself,” he says. “But we could try it lying down. Come.”)
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Pairing: Jaffar/Princess, Jaffar/Male!Princess
Rating: NC-17, gen in half of the chapters
Genre: Romance, Historical, Drama
Warnings: Light BDSM, anal sex, ass to mouth, sex change, genderswap, very lightly dubious consent, non-graphic discussion of consent issues and past abuse, see Ao3 for full list of tags
Length: ~32 000 words
Summary: Jaffar and his family take in an orphaned cheetah cub; with the aid of magic, they set out to teach him in the ways of the hunt. However, a spirit-bond with a wild beast has its dangers: Yassamin and Salsabil start to become drunk from the chase, swooning from the blood of the kill. Even Yassamin’s desires begin to turn more brutal, she behaving so very unlike herself; while Jaffar but relishes this at first, Yassamin soon realises she has to control this blood-intoxication for the sake of herself and her children. It is time to balance the wildness of the hunt by moving towards a love gentler, and to cultivate the children’s skills at arts, love and empathy instead. Meanwhile, Sonbol comes to Jaffar with an unexpected request-one concerning the matters of love…
A/N: I actually finished this before Unto Ishtar A Sacrifice and The Emerald Meadows, so you can read these three fics in any order you wish. Technically, Sacrifice and Meadows take place after this one, as far as I was concerned, but it doesn't really matter. Smut fiends should also note that chapters 1, 3 and 6 are the ones with the sex scenes, while other (much shorter) chapters are gen.
(Yassamin looks up at him tenderly, cradling his prick against the softness of her cheek. “What is it that you want, my love?”
“You,” he moans and springs up from the bed, pulling off her kaftan, taking her to lie on top of himself, holding her tight. “I’ve changed my mind. I think I want to be inside that little cunny after all,” he says and smacks her arse with both hands, spreading her so that he can now slip his cock between her thighs. “Right here,” he sighs and kneads her buttocks, moaning in delight as she squeezes him between her thighs, wetting him with her arousal. “Please, Yassamin.”
“Mm,” she says, almost absent-minded: again, her attention is drawn to the bag. “Let’s see what you brought us, first.”
It is a toy somewhat different from what he had given to his servants: it is a long prick made of a light brown leather, double-headed, all of eighteen inches long.
“Oh, my!” Yassamin cries as she holds it, weighing it in her hands. For it is indeed a heavy beast, yet so well-padded that the mechanism cannot hurt the user-or rather, the users.
“How does this work, then, my genius?” she asks.
“It has a thrusting mechanism on the inside,” he says and takes one end in his hand, stroking it playfully. “Heavy metal spheres thrust back and forth by a magnetic force, which you activate with a spell,” he tells her, giving the toy a little rub with his thumb as he whispers a rune.
Immediately, the prick begins to judder, the beads thrusting back and forth inside of it; they move so fast and with such force the toy nearly flies out of Yassamin’s hands.
“Like a woodpecker!” Yassamin cackles, having nothing else to compare it to.
“Do you want me to call it that?” Jaffar laughs.
“Perhaps not,” she says and shakes her head. “So this is meant for a couple to use?”
“Yes. Or, of course, a woman can wear it in both orifices simultaneously, but I suspect that would be a little uncomfortable,” he winces. “I expect it’d be easier for you to wear it in your cunny, but…” he draws his fingertip up the toy, flashing her a wicked glance. “I would love to see if I could take you while we were both sodomised by it,” he tells her, adoring the way her eyes widen, reflecting his most lecherous leer. “We would have to hold it in place with magic, of course.”
She raises her eyebrow, measuring the toy. “Being taken by Sarosh would be easier, if you but gave him two pricks.”
“But that’s exactly why I made it. So we wouldn’t have to go downstairs if we wished to be taken as we took each other. Lazy, I know, but…”
“All right,” she says, laughing. “But you’re on top. I’m too tired to ride.”
“I’m not feeling very athletic myself,” he says. “But we could try it lying down. Come.”)