FIC: The Earth's Turning (NC-17, Jaffar/Princess, Fadl/Zainab), part 4/7
Title: The Earth's Turning (part 4/7, completed fic)
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Pairing: Jaffar/Princess, OMC/OFC (Fadl/Zainab)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotica, Historical Romance, Fantasy
Warnings: Extensive anal play, light bondage, mentions of past violence/horror imagery
Length: ~48 000 words
Summary: The autumn stars always drive Yassamin mad from desire, mad: this year, her frenzy is of an altogether sodomitic nature. Jaffar, of course, is only glad to experiment with various treatments to help assuage her 'fever.'
However, come Mehregan, the bloodstained memory of Harun al-Rashid arises to torment both Jaffar and Fadl: they are unable to hide the truth of the Barmakid tragedy from Zainab and the children any longer. How many Barmakids did die that day? How did Jaffar and Fadl survive the massacre? And how did they enact their revenge?
Meanwhile, Fadl and Zainab's relationship deepens in unexpected ways, their pleasures given altogether new dimensions by sexual spells gifted to them by Jaffar.
(As Zainab sits on the bed beside him and starts to shrug her shift off her shoulders, Fadl realises she has had her servants wash and massage them both with the same ointments, so that the scents of their bodies now match.
"But, my lady! You, too, have read that book of poets and singers, then, I take it?" he murmurs as he kisses honey from her shoulder, his nostrils fluttering from musk.
"Which one?" she says as she turns around and undoes his hair.
"The one where a poet said that he loved his wife so passionately because of the way she smelled," he says as he pulls off his own kaftan, "and she rushed to add that this was because he and she smelled the same."
She closes her eyes and nuzzles his face, smiling. "That might indeed have been my intent, yes. Just to get that magnificent beak of yours as close to me as possible," she grins and kisses his nose. "Do you find the fragrance pleasing?"
"I do," he says as she sits astride him; "I like it very much," he murmurs as he lies there beneath her, adoring her heavy breasts as she rises above him, their skin so pale and translucent he can never not think of fine, smooth alabaster pots. He closes his eyes and inhales her, warming her skin with his hands; he really does love this fragrance, now sensing notes of fruit and of jasmine underneath the main ingredient binding them all together. The ingredient his court perfumier has not been able to find anywhere for the past year--"Where do you find ambergris these days?"
"Ah, now, that's a secret," she says and leans down to kiss him, her hair tumbling around his head a cascade, glittering as the evening light twines its golden fingers through it. "How would you have me tonight, my stallion?"
"As you yourself said, it's far easier for a man to experience pleasure just from having his prick cupped," he grins and twiddles his toes. "Therefore, I vote for whatever gives you the most pleasure, my love. God knows I owe it to you. Besides, I doubt that whatever it is, it would leave me unsatisfied."
"Bold words," she says and grinds her already-wetting cunny against his prick. "There have been times when I have dreamt of leaving you unfulfilled, I must admit. But I like this monstrous appendage of yours too much," she sighs.
"I am glad," Fadl but beams, never not taking satisfaction in the fact that he's irresistible even to a cunny-sucker. "But, to business!" he declares, slapping both hands onto Zainab's buttocks and giving them a hearty squeeze. "Come, my lady: what is your ideal love-bout like?"
"It should involve a fair deal of sodomy, I think," she says and grinds against him harder, now dragging her cunny up and down his shaft, trapping it sweetly between her weight and his belly. "But I would have your mouth and your fingers in my cunny first, I think."
"That's all?"
"I'm not finished yet! First your mouth and your fingers in my cunny, then your prick in there, then, sodomy. Each one of those acts until release--if you can manage it."
"My God!"
"You asked! I am but being honest. Come, women do this all the time when they're masturbating or fucking each other," she says, waving a hand tinkling with bangles, perfectly matter-of-fact and without shame. "Usually it's several climaxes per area; I am but taking the natural facts into account, knowing the limitations of male stamina."
"Male stamina?! I'll show you male stamina!" Fadl cries and takes Zainab by the waist, tossing her onto her back with a wrestler's throw. He dives for her cunny and begins to lap at her furiously, sucking and nipping and licking her until she is yelping and laughing and kicking.)
Author: Snowgrouse
Fandom: The Thief of Bagdad (1940)
Pairing: Jaffar/Princess, OMC/OFC (Fadl/Zainab)
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Erotica, Historical Romance, Fantasy
Warnings: Extensive anal play, light bondage, mentions of past violence/horror imagery
Length: ~48 000 words
Summary: The autumn stars always drive Yassamin mad from desire, mad: this year, her frenzy is of an altogether sodomitic nature. Jaffar, of course, is only glad to experiment with various treatments to help assuage her 'fever.'
However, come Mehregan, the bloodstained memory of Harun al-Rashid arises to torment both Jaffar and Fadl: they are unable to hide the truth of the Barmakid tragedy from Zainab and the children any longer. How many Barmakids did die that day? How did Jaffar and Fadl survive the massacre? And how did they enact their revenge?
Meanwhile, Fadl and Zainab's relationship deepens in unexpected ways, their pleasures given altogether new dimensions by sexual spells gifted to them by Jaffar.
(As Zainab sits on the bed beside him and starts to shrug her shift off her shoulders, Fadl realises she has had her servants wash and massage them both with the same ointments, so that the scents of their bodies now match.
"But, my lady! You, too, have read that book of poets and singers, then, I take it?" he murmurs as he kisses honey from her shoulder, his nostrils fluttering from musk.
"Which one?" she says as she turns around and undoes his hair.
"The one where a poet said that he loved his wife so passionately because of the way she smelled," he says as he pulls off his own kaftan, "and she rushed to add that this was because he and she smelled the same."
She closes her eyes and nuzzles his face, smiling. "That might indeed have been my intent, yes. Just to get that magnificent beak of yours as close to me as possible," she grins and kisses his nose. "Do you find the fragrance pleasing?"
"I do," he says as she sits astride him; "I like it very much," he murmurs as he lies there beneath her, adoring her heavy breasts as she rises above him, their skin so pale and translucent he can never not think of fine, smooth alabaster pots. He closes his eyes and inhales her, warming her skin with his hands; he really does love this fragrance, now sensing notes of fruit and of jasmine underneath the main ingredient binding them all together. The ingredient his court perfumier has not been able to find anywhere for the past year--"Where do you find ambergris these days?"
"Ah, now, that's a secret," she says and leans down to kiss him, her hair tumbling around his head a cascade, glittering as the evening light twines its golden fingers through it. "How would you have me tonight, my stallion?"
"As you yourself said, it's far easier for a man to experience pleasure just from having his prick cupped," he grins and twiddles his toes. "Therefore, I vote for whatever gives you the most pleasure, my love. God knows I owe it to you. Besides, I doubt that whatever it is, it would leave me unsatisfied."
"Bold words," she says and grinds her already-wetting cunny against his prick. "There have been times when I have dreamt of leaving you unfulfilled, I must admit. But I like this monstrous appendage of yours too much," she sighs.
"I am glad," Fadl but beams, never not taking satisfaction in the fact that he's irresistible even to a cunny-sucker. "But, to business!" he declares, slapping both hands onto Zainab's buttocks and giving them a hearty squeeze. "Come, my lady: what is your ideal love-bout like?"
"It should involve a fair deal of sodomy, I think," she says and grinds against him harder, now dragging her cunny up and down his shaft, trapping it sweetly between her weight and his belly. "But I would have your mouth and your fingers in my cunny first, I think."
"That's all?"
"I'm not finished yet! First your mouth and your fingers in my cunny, then your prick in there, then, sodomy. Each one of those acts until release--if you can manage it."
"My God!"
"You asked! I am but being honest. Come, women do this all the time when they're masturbating or fucking each other," she says, waving a hand tinkling with bangles, perfectly matter-of-fact and without shame. "Usually it's several climaxes per area; I am but taking the natural facts into account, knowing the limitations of male stamina."
"Male stamina?! I'll show you male stamina!" Fadl cries and takes Zainab by the waist, tossing her onto her back with a wrestler's throw. He dives for her cunny and begins to lap at her furiously, sucking and nipping and licking her until she is yelping and laughing and kicking.)