Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set

by Danielle Summers

  Duga stood naked at the entrance, waiting for instructions. He knew what to do, but the prince surprised him.

  The Prince approached and touched the new mark on Duga’s left wrist.

  “Does it hurt?” he said.

  “A little,” said Duga. “But it was what I wanted. It was worth it.”

  “Good. I’m glad,” said the prince, pulling Duga’s face to his. He kissed Duga, and Duga kept his lips cushy and responsive, just like he had been taught. He always let the prince’s tongue in and let it tickle the skin of his mouth.

  The Prince was still wearing the silky trousers and tailored shirt from this morning, and the fabric was delicate against Duga’s skin. The Prince grabbed Duga’s hand and led him toward the bed.

  “Undress me,” said the prince as he stood beside the giant sleeping area. The mattress was huge and covered with a nest of pillows and blankets.

  Duga started undoing the little white pearlescent buttons that ran down the prince’s silk shirt. He gently pulled it off, revealing a cotton undershirt. He untied the strings that held together the white cotton sheets of the undershirt. The Prince’s chest was smooth and firm. Duga wanted to touch him, but he knew he had to wait. He had to have patience. He looked into the prince’s eyes. He nodded, signaling Duga to continue. Yes, the prince could be touched.

  Duga went down on his knees, running his hands along the prince’s chest as he did so. The Prince’s skin was soft to the touch, like he had never worked hard, never had to struggle, never been hungry. This was the kind of man with whom Duga felt he belonged.

  The pants came off easily. Duga had learned techniques that made it seem like the pants just melted away. He folded them in the corner of the room and returned to the prince’s magnificent cock. It was only half-hard, but Duga already knew it would be even more beautiful once he had brought it to full firmness.

  The Prince tapped Duga’s head with one finger, the signal that he was to start sucking. Duga’s lips opened wide, and he took the prince’s cock into his mouth.

  The Prince even tasted a little different from every other man. He was a little sweeter. Yes, indeed, the royal family was special, and Duga was proud to bear their colors on his skin.

  Duga sucked. His took in the prince’s shaft as much as he could. He nuzzled his nose into the prince’s curly pubic hair. He pulled off the prince’s cock for just a moment and ran his tongue up and down the shaft. He took just the penis tip into his mouth using his tongue to toy with it while he lightly touched the prince’s balls with one of his hands. The Prince dug his hands into Duga’s blond hair and signaled for him to continue.

  “Oh yes,” yelled the prince. “You are as good as they say you are. Suck it. Take it all in.”

  Duga followed orders. His mouth descended once again and enveloped the prince’s cock. The Prince’s back started to arch. Duga could feel the prince’s legs start to shudder. He was about to come.

  And he did. Duga swallowed the royal seed like it was gold, like it would make him a full member of the royal family.

  The Prince sighed and patted Duga on the head, a signal for him to stand up.

  “That was good,” said the prince, looking into Duga’s eyes. “We won’t do lamasket today, but I want to take a good look at you.”

  Duga stood there as the prince looked into his eyes and examined his teeth. The Prince ran his hands through Duga’s hair. He ran his hands over Duga’s skin. The Prince paused at Duga’s chest and pinched his nipples. Duga didn’t dare make a sound.

  “Very good and very nice,” said the prince. “They really are training new harem boys quite well these days. Your chest is beautiful.”

  The Prince kept moving his hands down, patting Duga’s belly and fondling his half-hard cock.

  “Bend over,” said the prince.

  Duga did so, letting the prince get a good look at his asshole.

  “Ah yes, you did get krasked this morning,” said the Prince, spreading Duga’s ass-cheeks. “How could I forget such a wonderful show? The lamasket was beautiful. But I want you a little tighter. Definitely no lamasket tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Or the day after. I don’t want you to have any lamasket with anyone else until I call you back here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” said Duga. He spoke because he was asked a direct question. He knew better than to say anything at any other time.

  “And tonight, you will stay with me. I like you,” said the prince.

  Duga was thrilled. Not only had he made it past the harem tryouts and left the mudflats, he had passed harem training and had attracted the attentions of the prince. Duga knew that, although he was permanently marked as a harem boy, he could be sent away at any time. He wanted to stay in the harem as long as possible. Having the favors of a prince would lengthen his stay. Or at least, if he was sent away from the harem, he wouldn’t be without some other means to make his way into the world. The possibility of digging in the crystal mines with his father was further away than ever.

  The Prince fell into bed and motioned Duga to do the same. They were together under the same bedding. The Prince wrapped his arms around Duga and fell asleep. The Prince snored a little, and Duga soon followed into slumber. He slept better than he ever had in his entire life. He dreamt of gold-paved streets, palaces, princes and beautiful men, the world that was now his.

  ###

  The Prince’s Assassin

  Tales of the Thasali Harem 1

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter One

  Duga Rigers closed his eyes as the young man called Apamar methodically massaged the nape of his neck and then across the tops of his shoulders. Having sex with the young man was certainly satisfying, but Duga thought he was even better at giving massages. His old friend, Shebi Goza, reclined on a settee nearby. Next to Shebi was another young man who was naked and beautiful with locks of blond hair curling around his ears. Duga couldn’t remember his name. Shebi stroked the young man’s thigh. Every so often, Shebi’s fingertips grazed the young man’s cock, which was only semi-hard. The air was thick with the scent and smoke of cedarwood incense. The incense was hard to find but smelled better than the jusubo flowers that had filled their youth. Shebi always seemed to be able to find the unfindable if Duga wanted it.

  “You know it could just be like any of the many other rumors that foment around and about the crown prince,” Shebi said. He took a swig of a thick yellow liquid from a jar and coughed.

  “It could be.” Duga sighed. Apamar’s hands were wonderful. They were strong, but he knew when to be gentle. “I can’t believe you still drink that concoction.”

  Shebi laughed. “Some would say, Duga, that you’ve strayed too far from the bosom of your home. This,” he said, holding up the jar, “this is home and health.” He took another swig, coughed and offered the jar to the young man next to him on the settee.

  The young man glanced at the jar before shaking his head.

  “You see, Shebi? Even he knows it’s cachu. Home was only slightly better than a rat hole, and you know it. And I’d say that cachu isn’t aiding your health. How long have you had that cough?”

  Natash, the yellow liquid Shebi drank, had proudly been referred to as “home and health” in the Mudflats district in which the two men had been born. Duga could never stomach it, but sometimes it had been the only thing he had had to drink. Plus, in the Mudflats district, natash, a fermented liquid made from grain and mushrooms, was considered a cure-all. When he was a boy, Mudflats children who got sick were always given natash. It was used to stretch food supplies and was said to bring luck. Upon becoming an initiate in the Thasali household harem some twenty years ago, he vowed never to let another drop touch his lips. He hated the stuff. Shebi, who had also been a Thasali harem boy, had never left natash behind, fav
oring an unfiltered version he made himself. Unfiltered meant that small bits of unidentifiable grain bobbed around in the liquid. Shebi had always said that he liked his fermented drinks with “texture.”

  Shebi shrugged. “A week or so.”

  “Krask! At least put the cap back on,” Duga said. The sweet incense was having a hard time masking the sour natash odor.

  Shebi obligingly screwed the cap back onto the jar. “You can’t give credence to rumors. It could be nothing.”

  “Still, I’ll have to tell the crown prince and the Matriarch. This is just what I don’t need. It’s jubilee week. If this particular rumor is true, it’ll be hell trying to ferret out the truth. Do you know how many people will be crawling around the Thasali royal compound this week, Shebi?”

  Shebi nodded. “A multitude, I imagine.”

  “Exactly. When the Matriarch wants to throw herself a party, she spares no expense. You should see all the food that’s been ordered for the jubilee banquet alone!” Duga felt Apamar apply more pressure to his shoulders, as if to say, Calm down. Relax.

  “So, they’ll have to bring in more servers, more cooks…”

  “Yes,” Duga said, cutting Shebi off. “More of everything. The Matriarch has said that the harem revels after the banquet will be even more over the top than ever before. Lash, who outfits the harem, is bringing in more tailors and seamstresses to work on all the fine clothes the Matriarch has ordered for the harem boys and girls.”

  “And many of her people starve and freeze to death in winter and burn in summer. You remember what it was like for us and our kind, Duga,” Shebi said, his voice taking on a crisp edge.

  Duga and Shebi had made it out of the Mudflats district by making it into the royal family’s harem about twenty years ago. Their parents and siblings hadn’t been so lucky. The money and gifts they had received for Duga and Shebi’s harem service only went so far. They didn’t last forever, and their families still toiled under rough conditions, albeit with a slightly higher status in the community.

  “Since when have you cared, Shebi? That’s enough,” Duga said to Apamar. Duga smiled at Apamar, tipped him, and watched the young man’s retreating backside as he left the room.

  “Krask! Thasali don’t know a good thing when they see it,” Shebi said. He started to unscrew the cap on the natash jar, then screwed it back on. “It’s criminal how the idiots in charge are running the harem. Apamar is no looker, I’ll grant you that, but the hands on him! He just hadn’t found his calling yet. They threw him out. They throw so many good boys away before giving them a chance. I can only take in so many at my brothel.”

  Apamar didn’t have a tattoo on his wrist, like Duga and Shebi did, forever marking him as having been once a harem boy. The harem staff or a member of the Thasali royal family must have made Apamar leave the harem before his initiate period was finished. Duga had never forgotten the day his initiate wrist cuff was removed. A tattoo artist inked his wrist with a wide band of the royal family’s colors of cobalt blue, purple and yellow. The colors had faded only slightly over the past twenty years.

  Duga wondered if Shebi was warming up to one of his favorite topics: how the Thasali kicked him out of the boys harem for refusing to fuck a visiting diplomat. Apparently, the diplomat played rough, and he stank. Shebi felt his dismissal was unfair, but he had done well for himself in the end. He owned this brothel, and business was good.

  Duga stretched out his legs and sipped from a glass of water. “Thasali can afford to be choosy even now.” He hadn’t been a looker when he was Apamar’s age either, but the Thasali kept Duga in its boys harem because, even at age 18, he had a fantastic body. They also liked the dynamic and intimacy that he had with Shebi. He later learned that Prince Baboye had personally insisted that Duga be kept in the harem. The prince, who was next in line for the throne, later made Duga his consort and then his adviser. Duga was now 38 years of age and hadn’t been anywhere near either the boy or girl harems in years, and his body had matured, although his muscles were tight. He was still sexy.

  “Besides, you seem to end up with the best of the Thasali leavings. More often than not they land with you or in your brothel if they’re good enough.” Duga stood and began to undress.

  Shebi started to stroke the back of the young man’s head. “This one was considered too high spirited,” said Shebi. “The Thasali like their boys a bit more docile. But this one has been very well behaved since I acquired him, haven’t you?”

  The young man smiled at Duga and nodded.

  “You’ll have fun with him, Duga. He’s got a lovely mouth,” Shebi said.

  Now naked, Duga stroked his cock.

  “Show me how lovely it is,” Duga said to the young man. “What is his name again?” he asked Shebi as the young man took Duga’s cock into his mouth.

  “Jamas. His name is Jamas,” Shebi stood up. “I’ll leave you to it. I bid you good fortune.”

  As the door closed behind Shebi, Duga got a whiff of the noxious natash. Shebi had taken the cap off the jar as he exited and left it open either because of forgetfulness or as some kind of joke. Shebi knew Duga didn’t like it, but it was easy enough for Duga to ignore the stench. The boy, Jamas, did have a lovely mouth and a strong tongue. His blond hair flopped back and forth as he sucked Duga’s cock until it was firm, and Duga approached orgasm. The warmth of Jamas’ mouth soothed and excited Duga. When he came, he felt his whole body relax. He kept his hand on the back of Jamas’ head as he pulled his dick from his mouth and stroked his cock until the last bits of his cum dribbled onto Jamas’ cheek.

  He sat down on the settee next to Jamas, his hand on the boy’s thigh. He would like to have stayed and fucked the boy, but he had to get back to the household to talk to Prince Baboye and the Matriarch about the latest rumor. He got dressed, chatting amiably with Jamas who told him that he had run away from home a while ago and found himself in Resedna, the Thasali capital city. Duga asked him about his time in the Thasali harem, but Jamas seemed indifferent to the topic. Like Apamar, Jamas did not bear the harem mark on his wrist.

  Before leaving, Duga tipped Jamas generously and gave him some words of advice.

  “Don’t ever drink natash. Shebi loves it, but it’s horrible cachu.”

  “Thank you. We don’t have it where I come from,” Jamas said as he stroked his cock lackadaisically. “Hey, Shebi says you’re an important man, but you used to be a harem boy.”

  Duga put on a nondescript cloak over his colorful clothing, which indicated he was part of the royal household. “That is true. The harem can be a stepping stone to great success. I’ll tell you about it sometime. Maybe next time I see you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “I bid you good fortune, Jamas.” And Duga left, heading towards the back. He stepped into the alley behind Shebi’s brothel, looking this way and that. He flicked the cloak’s hood over his head. His brothel visits were not a secret in the royal household, but it wouldn’t be good for the general populace to know that a royal household member was indulging in dalliances outside the palace walls. Also, this area of town was not always safe, especially for those with royal connections.

  The little sun and big sun of the planet Oranto were giving way to the planet’s three moons when Duga emerged from the alley, but he could still see signs of the impending jubilee celebration, even here. Buntings and flags with the Thasali colors adorned even the shabbiest buildings in celebration of the Matriarch’s 25th anniversary on the throne. He wondered if the Matriarch’s revenuers would find a way to charge merchants and householders along these ramshackle streets for the privilege of displaying the royal colors. As he moved in and out of the shadows, he bit back the bitterness that had begun creeping into his thoughts recently.

  As an adviser to the crown prince, he could have availed himself of the boys in the Thasali harem, but once Prince Baboye appointed him to his advisory council, he left the harem behind. He was no longer a harem boy, so why should he ever set fo
ot in the harem compound again? Shebi had opened his first brothel by that time, so he started taking his pleasures with the young men in Shebi’s stable. He and Shebi had had sex quite a few times when they were harem boys. The last time was at the behest of the prince’s uncle, a man who simply liked to watch. Having known each other since they were children, Duga and Shebi had no problem cavorting for the amusement and titillation of others. The old man had especially enjoyed it when the two young men had wrestled oiled and naked. The grappling ended with Duga fucking Shebi. Shortly after that, Shebi was kicked out of the harem. Duga stayed for another year before the prince appointed him his adviser, and he left the harem behind.

  Duga navigated the back streets of the city, easily shaking the tail the Matriarch had no doubt put on him. She liked to keep tabs on everyone in the household. The young man had been skillfully made up to look like a much older man, but he hadn’t mastered the art of moving like someone older. He may be an ambitious harem boy trying to move up in the household hierarchy, Duga thought and smiled. He remembered what it was like to be an ambitious harem boy. Still, the boy had a lot to learn.

  *~*~*

  Duga lived in a house on the grounds of the Thasali royal compound. Prince Baboye had given it to him as a wedding gift. Many years ago the Matriarch had arranged Duga’s marriage to a harem girl called Tertiana Alsadafti. The Matriarch, Duga had learned, loved orchestrating the lives of others. Tertiana, like Duga, came from an impoverished provincial family, hoping to find a better life for herself as part of the harem. Duga had accepted marriage to her as part of being a Thasali household servant, which was what he really was despite being a member of the Matriarch’s jundii. The jundii were an exalted group within a royal household’s coterie, a sort of inner circle within an inner circle. They were a royal household’s most trusted advisers. Most were minor members of the royal family themselves or descendants of other jundii. Duga had been the first, and still the only, former member of a harem to be made a jundum in any royal family on the planet Oranto. Being the crown prince’s consort had helped him move up fast. But he was still a servant even if he was highly ranked and even if he had servants of his own.