by Astor, Jade
Stolen from the Harem
Tales from the Thasali Harem #2
by
Jade Astor
Published by Tulabella Ruby Press at Kindle Direct Publishing
Copyright 2015 Jade Astor
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is strictly coincidental.
Other titles by Jade Astor:
Snow Bite, Blood Red (Once Upon a Man 1)
Bachelor and the Beast (Once Upon a Man 2)
Darius (Moon Lake Wolves Book 1)
Caleb (Moon Lake Wolves Book 2)
Serge (Moon Lake Wolves Book 3)
Artemis Gardens
Passionate Lessons
Passion Unmasked
Cover design: 3 Rusted Spoons
Stolen from the Harem
Chapter 1
Midmorning had arrived, and Oranto’s twin suns blazed high in the magenta sky. The drapes of the Thasali harem’s largest and brightest room were parted just enough to allow the intense beams of light to fall across the bed where Prince Vidnar and Charis lay side by side. There was room for three or four people on the bed, and indeed there were times when it had held that many or even more. But for the present, to Charis’ delight, Prince Vidnar wanted to share it only with him.
Just now the prince was moaning with delight as Charis held a small clay jar over him, dripping spiced ointment onto Vidnar’s smoothly muscled back.
“Ahhh,” he exhaled deeply, moving his shoulders a bit as the oily liquid pooled between them. “Yes, you’re doing it exactly right. I can feel the heat building slowly on my skin. It feels like a set of gentle fingers.”
“Just as the merchant described,” Charis agreed. He reached down and massaged the oil into Vidnar’s flesh, feeling the warmth creep up his own arm as well.
“Yes. I must admit I am a bit surprised. He wasn’t exaggerating at all. Perhaps I won’t give the rest of the jars to my brothers after all. You and I can probably make better use of them.”
Charis smothered a giggle. “Yes, your highness. As you wish.” The exotic ointment had been purchased from a merchant wagon that had rolled up outside the harem doors with guarantees of increased sensations of pleasure and amplified bodily stamina during certain types of activities. The prince had sent Charis out at once to purchase several bottles. Vidnar would test it on himself, he declared, and if it worked as promised, he would gift some to his brothers. All of them, he maintained, were sorely in need of a little physical release in order to improve their emotional dispositions.
“Still, we haven’t performed the most important test yet. Are you ready?”
“Whenever you wish, your highness,” Charis said, a bit of nervousness creeping in around the edge of his voice. He tilted the vessel upward, preventing any more oil from oozing out, and held it up as Vidnar turned himself over on the bed. Charis licked his lips as he stared down at the evidence of Prince Vidnar’s obvious—and no doubt painful—arousal. “Let me know at once if it hurts you,” Charis urged.
“Don’t worry. I will. But then, I expect a bit of discomfort. That’s part of the allure, don’t you think?”
“I wouldn’t know, your highness.”
“Then we’d better go ahead and find out, don’t you think? Do it now.”
“As you wish,” Charis agreed. His hand trembled as he tilted the jar, and he winced when a small splatter of oil dropped onto Vidnar’s middle. Vidnar hissed with excitement. His cock snapped up stiff and ready.
“Lower,” he urged.
“Yes, your highness,” Charis stammered. Then he closed his eyes and let the oil drop directly onto Vidnar’s cock. He waited, tense with anxiety in case the strong ingredients of the potion would hurt the prince’s tender flesh. He would not want it said that he had caused his master any harm, and not only because he feared punishment. The thought of Vidnar experiencing even the slightest discomfort made Charis ache too.
Luckily, the application of the oil seemed to cause Vidnar no ill effects. Instead, it appeared to make his erection grow longer and thicker, the shaft taking on a vibrant ruddy color as the concoction worked its magic.
Craning his neck, Vidnar watched the transformation with fascinated delight.
“I think the potion is working,” he said excitedly. “The merchant was telling the truth after all! I think it’s bigger than it’s ever been before!”
Charis doubted that but didn’t say anything. After all, he was familiar with every detail of the appendage in question, and it appeared much the same as always. He suspected that the power of suggestion, along with the burning sensation caused by the oil, was causing Prince Vidnar to see what he wished to.
Still, it wasn’t his place to argue.
“Yes, your highness,” he said, smiling with an enthusiasm he didn’t have to fake. “The effect is extraordinary.”
“Come here, quickly, before the potion wears off,” Vidnar ordered.
Scrambling to obey, Charis climbed atop Vidnar’s body and fitted himself accordingly. He felt the spiced oil blaze agreeably inside him as he rocked back and forth as if riding a fast-moving beast. The prince, he had learned over the course of their many sessions together, preferred the join with him that way—fast and hot and recklessly.
Before long Charis felt the familiar tingle deep within his own body. Vidnar was right—the oil’s ingredients really did react with one’s flesh, giving the impression of tiny fingers tickling at his insides. Breathing hard, Vidnar lunged upward and then froze in place as release claimed him. He shuddered for a moment and then exhaled loudly and contentedly before he fell back on the bed.
With a small moan, Charis eased himself off the prince and lay back down beside him. His own cock throbbed with need, but he did not dare touch it without express permission from Vidnar. His cock, along with the rest of his body, belonged to Vidnar now. Or, more precisely, it belonged to the royal family, of which Vidnar was the youngest representative. He had come of age only the month before and visited the royal harem for the first time. Charis had been his birthday gift, in a sense, and they had not been separated since. Being chosen as the preferred consort of a prince was an honor Charis had scarcely dared to hope for when he had first joined the harem, and he was always on guard lest he do anything to displease the prince and fall out of favor.
“Most gratifying,” Vidnar said, eyeing the now-empty bottle of oil still clutched in Charis’ hand. Looking up, he scowled at Charis’ vague expression of pain as his balls swelled, painfully unemptied. “It gave you pleasure, too, did it not?”
“Yes, my prince,” Charis said. There was only one way to answer that question. He was there to serve the prince’s needs, not the other way around. He could now find pleasure only in the prince’s satisfaction.
“Perfect. I want to please you,” Vidnar said.
“No, my prince. It is my job to please you.”
“You do.” Vidnar smiled. He traced a finger over Charis’ lips and seemed to drift away in thought. Presently a frown creased his handsome features. “In fact, you are the only one who does. My life at the palace is decidedly unpleasant these days. Just this morning,
my mother demanded that I report to the armory and take battle training until the midday meal. I told her no.”
Charis suppressed a gasp. Vidnar’s mother, the matriarch, ruled not only their land, but her family, with an unyielding will that had become legendary. He could not imagine anyone refusing one of her orders. “Was she not angry?”
Vidnar laughed. “Furious. So was my older brother Baboye. I found their wrath quite amusing, especially when I turned my back on them both and simply walked out of the room.”
Charis gaped. He had no idea how Vidnar could be so casual about such things. Back on his family’s farm, Charis had never dared refuse his parents anything for fear of being brutally slapped or even beaten with a switch or a strap. Of course, things were different on farms, and he was no prince, born to a life of privilege and freedom.
Unconcerned with Charis’ shock, or perhaps just oblivious to it, Vidnar wriggled away from him and stood up. “Now I’m in the mood for a bath. You will accompany me, of course.”
“Yes, your highness,” Charis said, rising as well. The place between his legs still ached with need. He hoped Vidnar would notice soon and afford him some sort of relief.
They passed through the large bedchamber to another room laid entirely in brightly colored stone, where water from an underground hot spring bubbled and steam rose from deep pools set into the floor. Every morning, harem servants scented the baths with flower petals and specially prepared healing salts. A few of the petals were floating on the surface even now, and the room smelled fragrant and fresh, like an indoor garden.
The two floated around in the water a while, relaxing and enjoying the warmth. Charis was at last able to stroke himself discreetly under the water. As much as he wished he could have broken protocol and asked Vidnar to attend to his needs, he held no resentment about his position. He didn’t mind serving the prince at all and keeping to his assigned place in the hierarchy of the Thasali household. On the contrary, he considered it a great privilege to serve in the harem. Having passed his trial period of six full moon cycles, he had earned his family great honor and even money by becoming a full-fledged member of the harem.
“You are perfect,” the prince mused, reaching out to caress Charis from his shoulder to his thigh. Like some of the harem boys, Charis kept his body completely hairless, even between his legs. That smoothness seemed to excite Vidnar, who had very little hair himself but seemed to prefer even less on Charis. “I can hardly believe my good fortune in securing you for myself before one of my brothers did.”
“I am the fortunate one, your highness,” Charis said in all sincerity.
Vidnar finished splashing water over the two of them and hoisted himself out of the pool. “I have a surprise for you,” he said. “Get out and come with me.”
Charis followed him to the small table which held towels and robes. When he reached for one of the towels, Vidnar shook his head.
“No, no, you must stay as you are. It’s part of the surprise.” While Charis stared without comprehending, Vidnar wiped the water off both of them and wrapped the towel around his own waist. Then he motioned for Charis, still naked, to follow him out into the corridor.
Though they were given special robes for going out in public, walking around unclothed was, of course, no big deal within the harem compound itself. Indeed, Charis could look out of any doorway at pretty much any time of day or night and see the other boys in the same state, all of them entirely unashamed. Still, he blushed at parading himself past others without any covering, especially when they entered another room where a few men had gathered, apparently to await their arrival. He felt a self-conscious burn creep over his body when all of them looked him up and down with scarcely-disguised interest—perhaps even lust.
Charis recognized one of the men as Lash, the royal tailor, who stood beside three well-dressed men he hadn’t seen before. Two grinned at Charis’ nudity and nudged and winked at each other. The third seemed to make it a point not to look. Off to one side of the room lay at least ten huge rolls of the most beautiful cloth Charis had ever seen.
“Well?” Vidnar prompted. “What do you think, Charis?”
“I confess I am at a loss, my prince. Are we here to have you fitted into a new garment?” Charis asked.
Vidnar smiled and shook his head. “No. The garment is for you. These merchants have traveled halfway round the world to bring these fine fabrics to the palace. And you will have the first cut of the rolls.” He turned to Lash. “A gold-threaded tunic and a bright red cloak with a matching sash, perhaps. Those colors would set off his hair and eyes very well, don’t you think?”
Lash’s face was taut, but he bowed respectfully. “Whatever you wish, your highness.”
“What do you think, Charis?” Vidnar asked. “Would such garments please you?”
Stunned, Charis tried to imagine himself swathed in red and gold. Without a doubt, they would look and feel magnificent on him. Yet either, never mind both, would far outclass anything that could be considered proper for one of his rank. A harem boy did not and could not dress like a prince.
“I bow to your superior judgment, my prince,” he finally stammered. “But I am unworthy of such a gift.”
“Nonsense. Tomorrow night the matriarch plans to hold a banquet which I must attend. I would find it dreadfully boring except that you will be there to accompany me. Both of us will have to look our best.” Vidnar nodded to Lash. “You may begin.”
The tailor motioned for Charis to step forward. When Charis did so, hesitantly, Lash pulled a white undertunic over Charis’ head and tugged it down over his hips. That was a relief, at least. The three cloth merchants continued to stare until Lash pointed to the two rolls of cloth he wished them to cut from. Then they scurried off to do his bidding.
“You will enjoy the banquet,” Vidnar said, watching the procedure with his arms crossed and a look of smug satisfaction on his face.
Charis found himself blushing again as lengths of string were held up to various parts of his body, marking off his measurements. “My apologies, your highness, but I fear I will not be welcome.”
“Why would you say that?”
“I worry I will overstep my bounds.” Nervously, Charis bit his lip. What Vidnar was proposing struck him as brash, even impudent. Harem boys usually attended banquets in their harem dress suits. How could he stride in looking like a member of the royal family? He would be lucky if the matriarch did not have him arrested on the spot, or worse.
“Nonsense,” Vidnar assured him. “You are not to give such matters another thought. You are my guest. The clothing is my gift to you.”
Guest? Charis marveled at the use of the word. He wanted to remind Vidnar that he was a harem boy, a servant, and a concubine—nothing more. But talking back to the prince would certainly be a transgression, perhaps more so than the clothes would be. So he stood in silence and watched himself being fitted in a glorious tunic that would have looked ostentatious even on one of the prince’s many brothers. His pride in that moment, and his happiness at being loved by a man as perfect and generous as Prince Vidnar, convinced him to hold his tongue.
Chapter 2
Charis had never attended a private banquet in the royal dining room before, though he had heard some of the older harem boys describe such feasts. He saw now that they had not been exaggerating in the least. If anything, their descriptions fell short of the opulence spread in front of him.
Twenty or so tables were arranged around the spacious room, the surfaces set low to the floor with cushions scattered around them for seating. At the front of the room, the matriarch dined at a raised table piled high with delicacies and various bottles of wine. Around her sat her top adviser Lord Ezda, Prince Baboye and his consort Eyakan. All wore their finest ceremonial garments, and the matriarch sported an enormous headdress made of precious stones. Charis stared at it for a long time, mesmerized by its glittering spikes that reached high into the air.
On the other side of th
e room, a few lithe-limbed young men were dancing on a dais at the front of the room, barely covered in diaphanous scarves. Charis found himself embarrassed when he recognized them as his own fellow harem boys. The contrast between their mostly unclothed bodies and his own new and breathtakingly beautiful outfit, which covered all of him, struck him numb with anxiety. He knew well that he had overstepped his rightful place.
He wasn’t the only one who noticed, either. As he and Vidnar entered the room, he heard whispers to his right and glanced over to see the three cloth merchants seated with Lash the tailor and two other men who looked like tradespeople. All of them were looking right at him, but Charis didn’t think they were admiring his outfit.
He felt Vidnar’s hand on his arm, the graceful fingers soft and reassuring as they pressed into his shimmering gold sleeve. “This way,” he said, leading Charis to a table already piled high with sweet-smelling bread and cakes, along with pots of honey and flavored spreads. They settled themselves on the soft cushions surrounding the table, which remained otherwise unoccupied. Vidnar moved his pillow closer to Charis, so that they were touching. Having him so close made Charis feel safe and protected, especially when he became aware of even more stares drift toward him from all sides—and none of them friendly.
He’d often heard the harem boys talk about the dark gold eyes of the royal family—it was one of the inherited physical traits they were known for. He had admired Vidnar’s beautiful molten gaze often, but now he saw that it was true. The matriarch, Vidnar’s older brother, and a number of other unidentified people scattered around the room, who presumably shared their bloodline, also had the same unusual eye color. And most of them were glaring at Charis with ill-disguised outrage, maybe even hatred.
Charis wished he hadn’t worn the garment to the banquet. But what could be do? Vidnar had given him the gift and invited him to attend. He was in no position to refuse. Surely the others realized that?