This series is within the same universe and saga as in my other stories, Kingdom of Francia. While Francia is set on the western side of the world, the Sultanate of Rum tells the story within the border of the Caliphate, from their perspective. The story happens at the same time as the one in Francia.
This is a pure work of fiction that originated from me. This homoerotica is set in a fantasy world similar to the real world Dark Ages. It wasn’t heavily fantastical, meaning that I don’t have any plan to include dragons, etc. yet. The story is purely a creation from the author’s imagination and does not depict the author’s moral values nor does it try to promote a certain value/s. As this world was inspired by a medieval dark age, there would be a lot of themes that might be unsuitable for certain people, such as relationships with minors, domination, slavery, and many other things that the author hasn’t envisioned. This work, by no means, aims to be historically or culturally accurate. Many events that weren’t historically accurate or impossible to happen will be allowed to happen for plot-device purposes. As such, if you find any of the themes uncomfortable, please do not hesitate to leave.
Lastly, if you like my works and want to donate/tip, you can do so at my ko-fi page, my kittens and I truly appreciate it. https://ko-fi.com/gantengask.
The next day, they departed from Antakiya at the break of dawn in a tight formation with an entourage of nobles riding their camels draped in embroidered fabrics and soldiers brandished in armor with music played throughout the way as if they were holding a triumph from Antakiya to Trabzon. A more rich nobles, usually a chieftain of a prosperous clan, rode in the comfort of a camel palanquin. The only exception was Sami, the Sultan of Tunis, whose men rode their horses ahead scouting the way. He was never one to show off his wealth and always favored practicality over luxury, he was truly an ascetic man. In contrast, Ghafari, the Sultan of Persia, had his palanquin brandished in gold. Though not as profligate as Ghafari, Hazim also had his own quirk with his palanquin. For one, he had the hugest palanquin out of all of them, not even Ghaffari could make a bigger one because no camels could hold the palanquin if it was any bigger. Second, the reason why Hazim’s palanquin was even feasible in the first place, was that camels did not carry it, instead, giant hunk black slaves decorated with a long translucent gold scarf around their bodies that covered only their nipples, a stripe over their abs, tied around their waist, and spiraling over their left legs, designed by Halim which Hazim was quite proud of. The slaves’ balls were protected in a golden pouch with beads while their massive hogs were hanged and swayed as they walked like a third leg; Hazim made sure the carrying slaves had at least a soft 10” black meat on them. Indeed, to say every eye would be on the Caliph’s palanquin, and the 10 slaves carrying it, as they passed by would be an understatement.
The inside was lavishly filled with forts of pillows, plush carpet, bedrolls made of linen, and amenities like a small table, liquor cabinet, and hookah. There were also slaves, mostly youthful bois, fanning the Caliph, and his guests, while attending to his needs. The carrying slaves were trained harshly so they wouldn’t make even a single wobble no matter how rough the terrains were, and so they could move as fast as the caravan.
It was the most comfortable palanquin Zain had ever been in, not that he had been in many since his father, Abdul, preferred to ride a horse.
The caravan was arranged in a particular order, the Caliph’s massive palanquin at the front with his courtiers followed by Ghafari, Sekhem, and then Zain. Hazim wanted Zain’s newly gifted palanquin by the Caliph to be next to his, but Zain argued that it would make the formation too wide and hard to mobile while also insulting Ghafari to have a moderate palanquin in front of his opulent one. Of course, Hazim retorted it was Zain who refused to have a grand palanquin like him, to which he replied that it would fit them more aesthetically anyway since the Persian entourage dressed themselves and their camels like they were about to walk pageantry thousands of years early.
Sekhem’s caravan was not mediocre either. It might not be huge, but it was as elegant as the rest and enough for him to change bedwarmers every time he desired. While the Caliph’s entourage consisted mostly of soldiers, his sons, and only important courtiers and Ghafari brought his entire nobility on a pageant walk, Sekhem’s caravan was made of slaves, laborers and pleasure workers mostly, all beautiful, and the one most stocked with luxuries. Hazim put him in charge of supplies, giving him reason to put Sekhem most behind during campaigns.
During this tour, however, Zain’s caravan was situated behind Sekhem, with his counselors’ palanquins in front of him while his Marshall’s caravan rode behind him. The Berber clan did not carry a palanquin and were riding their horses, guarding the rear.
It was for a particular reason.
Before they moved in the morning, Zain ensured that every single caravan was ready to move. Everything was in order, but when he arrived at the Sinai clan, whose leader was subdued and bitched by their newly acquired Greek slave Oliver, he was greeted with countless asses being folded in half, bound like a package, and drugged, being lined for packing. Sinai Arab asses, to be specific.
Clearly, his acting steward had taken his job seriously and had begun investing in the mead production right away. The Sinai clan that joined Zain’s clan was small in number, but even those that came were 80% of the clan’s original size while the rest remained in Sinai, so Zain was surprised that in less than a morning Oliver had managed to turn every single man into a human barrel and even had them stocked with piss in their belly and cum inside their asses.
Clearly, it was impossible to carry them discreetly so Zain knew he needed extra hands, which gave him an opportunity to test his Marshall’s loyalty.
When Hossam saw the sight, his eyes bulged out of their sockets while his hand immediately reached for his sword. It was only by Zain’s words he let down his guard but remained eyeing the “acting steward” distrustfully. When Zain explained the way to make double-distilled and triple-distilled mead, Hossam looked like he was about to puke.
“No fucking way!” The man said.
“Are you sure this man can be trusted? Your entire nation’s investment might be in danger because of this man.” Oliver said off-handedly which enraged Hossam.
“Who do you think you’re talking to, you piece of shit!? Do you think there is anyone more loyal to Zain than me!” He roared so loud that Zain was afraid the man might attract attention, “And even if this is truly how you make mead, Zain, are you sure we could trust the Greek out of all people?”
When Zain put his hand on Hossam’s shoulder, although Hossam was still tense and angry, his demeanor became considerably softer.
“I have put my trust in them, and you’d do well to trust them,” Zain calmly said.
“I only hope your trust is not misplaced.”
“It won’t be misplaced in me, that’s for sure,” Oliver smugly chimed in, clearly trying to rile Hossam.
“The fuck do you say, cunt!?”
“All I am saying is we need a test of loyalty,” Oliver shrugged as he said that.
While Hossam was livid that someone, a Greek at that, had the audacity to question his loyalty to his own so—err, Sultan, Zain, on the other hand, found the statement to sensible.
“What do you suggest?” He asked.
With a smug smile, Oliver said, “I say he needs to taste the Greek mead straight from the source, right from these nuts,” he grabbed his own crotch.
“You can fuck off! I am going to cut your balls before going anywhere near it!”
“I’ll make you my cocksheath before you could even touch my balls, cunt!”
“Enough!” Zain shut both of them, then turned to Hossam with a stern look, “You’ll have to drink one uncle, if not from him, then from one of these… barrels.”
“Seriously? I—,” Words stuck in his throat when he saw Zain’s doubtful expression almost as if he was disappointed as if he had misjudged Hossam’s loyalty, which irritated Hossam. Even more, that made him feel guilty like he was a failure of a father.
Gruntled, he lifted one of the barrels, making sure to pick the prettiest one with a beautiful cock, with only one arm with ease, “What should I do?”
Oliver smirked as he said, “You pick the Sinai chief’s eldest son, good choice, I personally stocked him full of my piss. To drink it straight from the tap, get that pretty brown lips of yours over his clit and suck it right out, and then eat the marinated cum straight from his bussy, my cum,” he emphasized on his cum inciting another angry grunt from Hossam.
If it wasn’t for Zain, Oliver would already be on the dirt kneeling after Hossam knocked out his teeth or two. Hossam was disgusted to drink the man’s cum, especially Oliver, but he knew he had to prove himself to Zain. He closed his eyes as he effortlessly lifted the tied smaller twink and brought the sizeable soft cock to his mouth. He didn’t need to suck hard since the piss came right out the moment it felt pressure. Thanks to the drug Oliver gave them, mostly he acquired from these people’s own stash before he turned them into human piss barrels, it made their bladders quickly refilled and easy to come out.
To his surprise, the piss did taste like the mead he received from Zain, only slightly sweeter with a hint of spices and bitterness, he liked that one better. He reacted pleasantly, but the moment he caught Oliver’s smirk, he posed his frown again before hesitantly moving his lips to the twink’s asshole.
The asslips were puffed out, but it was soft and moist. The moment Hossam’s lips touched them, it visibly and audibly purred. When he lapped at the hole, he tasted sweat mixed with strangely pleasant mixtures, and when he pried the tender hole open with his tongue, it was breached easily expelling the pungent white thick liquid onto his tongue. He thought he would puke, but the moment it touched his tongue, his nerves were strangely reacting to it, almost like they were being electrocuted. It was still salty and smelly, but strangely, it spread warmth across his body.
Of course, Oliver knew that his barrels would taste different than Pasha’s since most of his barrels were juiced with the Sinkhole drugs, a dopamine-enhancing aphrodisiac that sent the users into a euphoric sex drive. It seemed that the effect of the drug was also present in the end product, their triple-distilled mead, giving a hint of pleasure. It wasn’t strong enough to make any noticeable changes, which is why Oliver was trying a new way to implement the drug in his mead. He dunked 5 of the drugs into the Chieftain’s son, waited until the drugs were “swallowed” by the ass, and then waited for another 5 more minutes entertaining himself by watching the son crying and rubbing his asshole on the floor while begging for Oliver’s cock, before he slammed his cock in filling the hole with his cum. He let his cum marinate in the residue of the drugs and aphrodisiac oil, and he was planning to test it on someone. Who would’ve known the brown bull would offer himself to be a test subject?
Hossam was enjoying the cum more than he thought, and he clearly wasn’t thinking because the moment he came to, the cum barrel was already empty.
Zain was pleased and both of them talked about how they were going to handle the “barrels” while Oliver noted that the drug in the cum apparently still wasn’t strong enough, or so he thought.
It wasn’t hard for Hossam to make his men remain silent about the whole ordeal. His original “clan”, if it could even be called that, was small and consisted of closely related cousins, who had been helped by Zain’s father. Their loyalty to Zain was already unquestionable, though Hossam insisted that none of their loyalty would ever come close to his. With the recent tension between the local Berber tribes with their Arab overlords, Hossam’s men had no love for the Mashriqi either, and some were even overjoyed to see the Arab nobles humbled. They did not bat an eye when Hossam told them that they would be guarding the Sinai’s Greek slaves and helping them carry the human barrels. When they learned of the mead’s origin, some of them even asked to have access to the mead, which Zain granted.
They hanged these former nobles who were tied like a sack of meat, legs up folded in half, on the side of their horses. Some even hanged them on their horses’ butts, faces facing the horse’s asshole so when they rode, the faces would constantly “make out” with the horse, and watched in cruel delight when their horse defecated on the nobles’ faces. Needless to say, the Greeks had built quite a rapport with the Berber, which made the latter even more susceptible to their mischief.
As he was patrolling the caravan, despite Jamal and Halim’s insistence that a sultan should not bother with hard labor, he noticed the soldiers who rode horses were pantsless. Not only that, they slathered the saddle seat using itching salve with aphrodisiac, which they got from the noble clan they belonged to, right where their asshole would be. When he asked them what happened, they looked at him weirdly as they replied, “Arab men must always have their cunts primed and ready. This is part of our training.”
The soldiers, whose assholes were slathered in the itching powder, felt itchiness and rubbed their asses on the saddle, matting the asshole even more in the powder. By noon, every single soldier was grinding their asses on their saddle looking glossed-eyed as their cock leaked pre-cum. They couldn’t even reign their horses so they had to rely on the Greek slaves, who were forced to walk to Trabzon, to ride their horses together. The fact that most of the Greeks also rode the Arab soldiers at the same time also was not lost on him.
It was because of this as well that Zain managed to see Hossam’s 9” cock in full glory. The Berber tribe that joined him was from a small poor clan, and their leader, Hossam, wasn’t a man who desired luxury. Some of them did not even fancy wearing clothes, let alone bringing a palanquin like Zain’s other councilors, and instead, all of them were riding horses.
Thanks to Gil, all of them were raiding pantsless, most of whom were riding naked, including Hossam. The sight of their sweaty brown skin glistening under harsh sunlight as they rocked their naked ass back and forth rubbing their pussylips on the saddle was very erotic.
Hossam’s son was clearly the best looking out of them all. Despite his slimmer build, Khalid’s body was well-toned, and the sweat that made every inch of his brown skin glisten under the harsh sunlight only highlighted the God-sculpted body he had even more. Every single inch was visible to Zain and others since Khalid was butt naked as he rode his horse. His thick yet manly lips pursed a little bit as the man used both of his hands to play with his nipples while expertly galloping on his horse. His short yet messily grown kinky hair and the kinky pubic hair on his otherwise smooth body give a youthful masculine appearance. His 8” cut cock and full-sized balls were cherries on top of the Godly body. He looked like a Berber prince riding beside his equally hot father, though their age gap and Hossam’s somewhat younger face made them look like brothers instead.
Zain frowned when he saw Oliver, fully clothed, riding beside Hossam as the two of them weren’t exactly the best of friends or even had a pleasant first impression of each other. He rode his horse toward them and trotted beside Oliver whose hands were rubbing Hossam’s bubble ass while the man had glassy eyes empty looking ahead smiling.
It was through him that Zain knew Gil was behind everything. The sheer and unexplained power that Gil had made him understandably wary of the Greek slave; he didn’t know anything about the man or his ambition. He feared that the man could end the Caliphate right there and then, and quite frankly, Zain couldn’t figure out why he hadn’t. He couldn’t figure out what was inside the man’s head.
Zain tried to speak to Hossam but his words were slurred and he seemed to be out of himself, even worse than the rest of the soldiers. He wondered if Gil, or Oliver, did something else to Hossam, but he knew Oliver wouldn’t answer, truthfully at least.
When he was about to excuse himself, even Zain couldn’t help himself as he slowed his horse enough he could gawk at Hossam’s phat ass. He thought it would be a muscle ass like Said, but he was wrong as the bubble were all meat and jiggled as the horse galloped. It wasn’t overly massive, but it was still considerably phat and perfectly firm bubble shape. While others had their asshole bloomed red outward thanks to Gil’s treatment for them, Hossam’s asshole bloomed only slightly while still maintaining its tight inward shape. It was mouth-wateringly red.
He did warn Oliver not to touch or do anything to the man as he was a very valuable asset and would like to keep the mind intact. To which, Oliver replied, “Oh, he is an amazing ASSet, and I’d like to get acquainted with him myself!”
Not even a second after Zain rode away, Oliver pushed Hossam flat on the horse and jammed his middle finger up tight rosebud. Oliver looked around and watched as the Berbers were too mindfucked to even care that their leader’s ass was wobbling hard from the rough-fingering the, technically, former Greek slave gave. Not even Hossam’s loud squeal when the finger was replaced with three fingers could wake them from their brain stupor and itchy holes. Clearly, Gil’s mindfuck and the drugs really did a number on them.
So without a care, Oliver expertly hopped onto Hossam’s horse and rode it in front of Khalid. Then, he tucked his trousers under his balls and climbed on Hossam’s larger body while tightening his pants and aligning his cock and balls, so they were visible to Khalid and the rest of the Berbers who rode behind them alongside Hossam’s tiny rosebud wedged between the bubbly brown cheeks. Then, he positioned his cockhead right on the pucker, letting both of them kiss a couple of times, before timing his push with the horse gallop and slamming every single inch of his cock breaking into the no-more virgin Berber channel.
In front of his men, and his own son, Hossam was deflowered, subdued, and bred. And would be bred multiple times as Oliver came prepared with performance and cum enhancement. He didn’t know when Gil would do his wide-scale magic again, but he intent on shaping Hossam’s asshole to the shape of his dick by the night. Or maybe he could turn Hossam into his personal cocksleeve as he had promised? If Old Assyrian Magic couldn’t do it, maybe the Eastern Magic could, after all, he just got his hand on the illustrious Han physician’s book thanks to Gil.
.
It was noon when Hazim summoned Zain to his palanquin, the messenger he sent to fetch Zain was terrified like he was about to lose his head if Zain didn’t arrive at the palanquin within a moment’s notice. So he made his way as soon as possible. Hazim was sitting cross-legged, with one leg up, naked with only a fabric covering his lower body. His face was red both from the sweat and the spanking “exercise” he had just done with his seventh son, and at the end, he got 500 spanks not counting the repeat by noon. His ass was still raw that he could feel even a slight wobble, and his mind was already planning the whipping he’d give to the slaves. After hearing the news about his new “sons-in-law” from Pasha, the redness from his face had spread throughout his body like he was about to explode. When Zain arrived, Hazim went on a tirade, screaming and shouting, not at Zain in particular, as he waited for his new sons-in-law to arrive. He stomped his way around making the palanquin shake, which promptly incited another shout berating the slaves carrying the palanquin, and threw everything his hands caught in his way around, except for the Thriple-distilled mead which he kept taking a swig at now and then as he went on his tirade.
Leaning leisurely on his palace of pillows, Zain watched as the Caliph was throwing his tantrum, fully intending to let Hazim empty his angry gas in his tank before speaking. He knew Hazim would be unreasonable and was in no state to have a proper conversation, but he did note the Caliph often idly scratched his asshole during his whole tirade.
“Where the fuck is the fuckwad who marry my son!?” He shouted, stomping his feet around, shaking the entire place, “That ass better be heavenly good if he’s marrying that heathen cunt without MY approval!”
He, or rather they, were following closely beside the palanquin, but Zain told them to wait outside and let him smooth things over first. Knowing how volatile the Caliph was, they feared for their head and obeyed Zain completely.
“Fuckwads, there is more than one,” Zain then cheekily added intending on having a little bit of fun himself, “And it was their cocks that he found heavenly that he begged them to baptize his ass with cum so his cunt can enter heavens, again and again. They haven’t been stopping christening him since they got married.”
Zain watched as Hazim’s sunkissed brown body turned red and his muscle bulged up like it was about to pop, and his cock, which had been standing straight since the beginning, erupted as the man screamed at the top of his lungs to kill all of them. Luckily, nobody who heard, which was to say the entire caravan, knew who “them” were, except the them themselves, of course.
Needless to say, the husbands wet themselves when they heard the murderous scream, even the ones who were currently in Pasha’s mouth and asshole.
“I am going to kill all of them!” Hazim said as he sunk on his own pillows beside Zain, heaving, already losing most of his strength from his angry orgasm.
“I think I know why you’re this mad.”
Hazim looked at Zain, “Of course, I do! I—”
“No, let me be frank with you why, and it’s not what you think.”
Hazim scoffed, but other than taking a swig out of his bottle of the famous triple-distilled mead Pasha gave him, through Zane, as an early apology, he did nothing else.
“I think, you’re envious that your son has found his butt-scratchers, 15 of them, while you are still too afraid to even have one.”
Hazim looked at Zain like he was crazy.
“Please Hazim, I am your companion and your confidante, you’re my father’s half and he was yours, and ever since he was gone, you take me as the imperfect half you have lost. You have revealed to me more than enough for me, and I know you know too, to know where our experiment would ultimately lead.”
Hazim went through a wave of emotions at once, from anger to sadness, to anger again, to horny, and then just horny from then on.
“We both know what we’re doing is not to undo the damage the Han has done or to understand what he did because we both know what he did. We are here to let you accept what you have been missing and what the Han filled for you once. And that is right here, my friend.” Zain reached around and grabbed Hazim’s ass with his hand, and used his middle finger to graze the asshole inciting moan from the Caliph.
“Fuck…” Hazim said, thinking, something he rarely did, and then chuckled, “You are not my imperfect half, you are better than your father,” Hazim took another swig, “Fine, tell me what do you want me to do?”
Zain smiled and pulled his hand away as Hazim moved himself closer to Zain, lounging skin to skin, and settled into a more comfortable position. Hazim sat on Zain’s left and wrapped Zain’s shoulder with his right arm. With his free hand, he pulled Zain’s left hand and sat on it, guiding Zain’s finger to rub on his asshole.
“I know you’re trying to smooth things over for me with Pasha. Your father would too, but you are better at it than him,” Hazim said before kissing Zain on the forehead affectionately.
“And I know you’re trying to show your future sons-in-law your asshole.”
Hazim laughed hard as he ground his asslips on the tip of Zain’s finger.
“Call them in!” Zain shouted.
The carrier slave hauled not just one, but two people inside, Pasha and someone else riding his back. Pasha was a massive person, but he did not look thick thanks to his tall height in proportion to his muscle mass. Though his stomach and abs were lean, his chest, shoulders, and arms muscles bulged. His skin was glistening with sweat from the non-stop fucking he received, just as his handsome face looked blissfully breathless as he stayed on all fours while a younger man, barely adult, pounded his ass with powerful slams.
It was awkward at first, especially under the gaze of the Caliph himself, but as soon as Zain knowingly looked at him, ordering him to be confident with the Caliph baring his asshole for him to see, the young man slammed more comfortably, he even flexed his lean chest muscle to the Caliph while looking at his eyes with only a bit of wary. Soon, 26 people came inside the palanquin, and the strength of the carrier slaves was a wonder.
The number of Pasha’s husbands had increased. Apparently, some men also invited their brothers, including their nephews if they had one, to the harem, while some others invited their best friends. There was a family of 7 monopolizing the spot; brothers of 3, one of which had two sons, the other had one, while the youngest brother was single. The rest were a couple of singles, brothers, father-son/s, and even mentors/mentees. The body was varied from bone-thin to fat; twinks, twunks, otters, bears, including cubs with varying ages, the mentee being the youngest while the oldest was a gray-haired man older than Hazim.
“Dad?” Pasha said slurred, “I am so sorry… I don’t know, but they just felt really good, so good… I don’t want it to end.”
“Is he drugged?” Hazim looked a little bit perturbed, but still overall horny.
“Drugged with cum, maybe,” Zain said trying to defuse the situation which made Hazim laugh.
Admittedly, Zain himself wasn’t sure if Pasha was drugged or not, they had access to drugs, after all; Pasha, like many Arab men with slaves, had a couple of recreational drugs. Zain only hoped the husbands didn’t use mind-altering drugs, though he didn’t think Pasha was ever interested in those anyway. Pasha was the kindest doofus of the brothers after Halim, who was more of a princess kind.
“All of you are here because the Caliph was not aware of Pasha taking a husband, apparently 26 of them now, and he was not consulted. So, to ensure his son has the husbands that he deserves, the Caliph has decided to observe and judge for himself if you are worthy to be Pasha’s husbands, and one of you will be the main husband. So prove yourself, by performing one of your husbandly duties of course,” Everyone looked at Zain confused, they weren’t sure what he meant as they were only told to follow Zain’s instructions, not what the instruction was.
“Seems like one of you already got a headstart,” Zain motioned to the young man he told before to keep fucking Pasha in front of Hazim to completion. The young man continued on fucking until he grunted loudly, seeding Pasha. It wasn’t bad, but clearly, the man was nervous even as he pulled away his softening cock.
It was a striking contrast to the next man who swaggered his way confidently with his 7” hard cock as he went straight to smack Pasha, still on all four, with his hog on the face.
He was, Atlas, conscripted during the war alongside his 2 sons, while his youngest was left behind with his wives. He was the original member of Pasha’s harem with his brother, then he just pulled the rest of his family into Pasha’s harem, no permission asked. He was a man in his mid-thirties with short shaved black hair and five O’clock shadows with natural thick built muscles he got from working at his family farm. He was an average-looking middle-aged man, but what he lacked in the face, he made up in raw and natural masculine body.
He ordered who Zain assumed was his sons to lift Pasha’s body up as he jerked his cock at Hazim flexing his muscle while staring straight at Hazim. The raw tension between the two masculine men heated up quite literally with both fury and lust permeating the room. It developed quickly into a peacock competition as Atlas confidently, rather cockily, stared and flexed while jerking his cock at Hazim, who was not used to having someone, let alone a slave, stared at him with such audacity. It made him angry as he jerked his cock accepting the challenge and flexed competitively at the mere slave whose confidence did not waver, which made him even more furious.
Atlas for his part knew he was going to win with his next move, and he was excited to watch the most powerful man who had defeated and enslaved him, his master of masters, humiliated. He told his sons who were holding Pasha with his legs to shoulders while his ass, cock, and balls hanging to bring the Prince closer. Atlas positioned his cock under Pasha’s ass, then pulled Pasha’s cock and balls up so Hazim had an unobstructed view. He watched in triumph the humiliated look on Hazim’s face when he jammed his fingers into Pasha’s hole, churned it roughly, and then dig out a pool of cum that came out bursting lubing Atlas’s cock, like a whore. Everyone who saw the look on Atlas’s face as he smirked mockingly at Hazim could clearly tell he was telling Hazim that he was the mother of all whores.
If before, the heat from both fury and lust from Hazim and Atlas clashed in the air creating tension, after Atlas used Pasha like a cheap lube bottle, his heat overpowered Hazim, instead, inciting a different kind of heat from inside the Caliph, a heat that contained humiliation, fear, and more importantly, irresistible urge, making him visibly melt like butter in front of everyone. It was clear who was the winner of the peacock competition, and for a second everyone thought the Caliph would explode in anger.
Instead, he submitted. His body relaxed as he leaned his ass even forward showing his lewdly obscured hole to Atlas and Pasha’s husbands. Zain, doing his part, used his fingers to part the cheek spreading the red untouched hole for them to see. They watched as the hole contracted like it was yowling at them.
Atlas flexed his cock once, still smirking at Hazim, before telling his sons to put the “whore” on the floor upside down with Pasha’s back facing Hazim. He stood with Pasha in between his legs, ass rolled up with legs behind Atlas, and sunk his cum-slick 7” thick cock slowly into Pasha, smoothly, while kept looking at Hazim. Just as he sunk his cock into Pasha, Atlas was imagining, quite obviously to everyone, he was sinking his cock into the Caliph’s hole instead, and he knew the Caliph knew what he was imagining too.
He pulled out and then sunk his cock back in, slowly and steadily, as his eyes devoured Hazim’s hole, sending shivers from his hole up to his spine and cock. Then, he pulled all the way before spearing the entirety of his cock straight to the hilt into Pasha’s hole, making the man let out a muffled moan as the rest of Atlas’s family had been continuously plugging Pasha’s mouth with their cocks. Atlas was hogging all of the attention on him, and he was eating it all.
He moved back slightly, positioning Pasha’s ass so he could comfortably slam his cock from the head to the hilt, apathetic to Pasha’s groan as his muscular rigid body was bent to accommodate his husband’s need.
With his cock implanted in Pasha, still looking at Hazim, he pulled back and said, “Gape!”
As if well-trained, Pasha gaped his ass expelling the content of his ass in a wet fart before closing his ass straight away. Atlas slammed his cock right back in and pulled back, again, he ordered, “Gape!”
Just like before, Pasha farted a cum-ful, but it wasn’t the only sound that was heard. Everyone was drawn to a louder more prominent fart produced by Hazim’s asshole as he tried to gape. His face was ridden with shame as he watched the “slaves” sniggered at him. Some of them even came to Atlas to give him a high-five.
Atlas was looking even more triumphant, cocky smile never waned from his face.
He did that a couple more times, and although Hazim tried to not follow Atlas’s command, he failed most of the time. Often enough that by the last command, Hazim’s ass no longer produced fart and just silently gaped. It was a small opening, but everyone was already looking at his asshole so they notice it right away.
Satisfied, Atlas pulled away completely.
“Get on your stomach, and look at your Daddy, and show him what a nasty slut I have made you into.”
Pasha did as he was told and moved to lie on his stomach. He lifted his head to look at his father, Hazim, and it was the first time their eyes finally met. There was shame, but most of it was fear. He knew his father was strict and a very disciplined man, and his childhood trauma made him couldn’t even see that his disciplinarian father was baring his asshole to his son’s husbands. All of that negative feelings, however, disappeared when his hole was quickly filled by a big cock, replaced by a blissful expression complete with rolled-back eyes.
Not that Hazim could see his son’s eyes since Atlas, who was lying flat on top of Pasha’s body, was covering Pasha’s eyes with one hand, maintaining the dynamic that it was not about Pasha more than it was about Hazim. His other hand was pulling on Pasha’s mouth so he could only let out incoherent groans, not like he could say anything more than “Yes!” or “Fuck me!”.
With a planted cock, all the way to the base, Atlas ground his hips further and deeper, pushing his dick into Pasha’s hole and prostate even more, making a deeper crevasse of his anal chute, giving him a mixture of pain and pleasure that surprisingly taste amazing in Pasha’s head. Without pulling his cock, his hip slammed hard into Pasha, eliciting a loud pained but satisfied moan. Not a single slam Atlas did without looking straight into Hazim’s eyes enticing Hazim to imagine himself in Pasha’s state.
Hazim bit his lips and pushed his ass even more as Atlas gave Pasha deep strokes. He groaned when Atlas bit down on Pasha’s shoulder, forced the man to crane his head so he could bite his neck, and when he roughly pulled on Pasha’s tits.
Feeling himself close, Atlas was done playing around and then moved to squat without pulling his cock. Atlas pulled both of Pasha’s hands and held them on his back with one hand, while with the other, he pulled on Pasha’s hair, again, which Pasha had to crane even further back to allow Atlas to even grab it in the first place. Atlas was shorter than Pasha, but then again, anyone was hardly ever taller than him.
Atlas slammed himself hard in, which quickly sped up into a rapid drilling. Each time, Atlas pulled all the way, even the head, telling Pasha to gape, when the hole shotted the recess cum out, Atlas’s cock push it back in.
Atlas was using him for his outlet of rage and cum; his muscle bulged and his veins looked like they were about to pop with every slam. He didn’t even bother to look at Hazim, but he knew that all that Hazim could look at was his cock drilling his son’s hole and all Hazim could hear was his son’s desperate and pained yet sultry moans and the wet swelch the hole produce at every slam. He wasn’t jackrabbit-ing the hole, he was jackhammering the hole with slams after slams until even Pasha’s muscle ass turned tender and bouncy. Even at the speed that he was slamming, he always pulled his cock perfectly leaving the head less than incan h away from the hole before slamming it right back in.
“Tell your Daddy what you are, slut!”
“I am a slut, Daddy, I am a nasty fucking slut! Fuck!”
“Tell your Daddy who turned you into a slut!”
“He did Daddy! My Husband! My beloved fucking Husband! Ungh!”
“What is your husband currently doing to you?”
“Fucking me, Daddy! He’s fucking me!”
“No! Slut! I am destroying your hole!”
“Fuck!!! Daddy!!! Pleaaaasee!”
“Whose hole is this!” Atlas spanked Pasha’s ass.
“My husbands!”
“What is the purpose of this hole!” Another spank.
“Ugh! To be used! Ah! And to be bred!”
“That’s right!” Atlas screamed as he angled for a final few thrusts, this time boring his gaze into Hazim’s eyes.
“GET!” Slam.
“FUCKING!” Slam.
“BRED!”
He gave one final slam that almost knocked Pasha off his cock if Atlas wasn’t pulling the man back by his hair. Atlas grunted as his red and expended body tensed looking straight into Hazim as he filled Pasha with his seed like it was Hazim, whom he was seeding and not Pasha, still squatting proudly on top of Pasha’s ass heaving like he had just conquered a stallion. He let his cock rest and gave Hazim a few more flexes before pulling out and calling his eldest son to replace him.
The son replaced his dad’s position, but all he did was put his cock on the crack of Pasha’s cheek.
“Lube my cock, slut!” He said slapping Pasha’s ass.
Pasha obediently reached behind, pulled his asscheek apart, and moaned when his ass sprayed the son’s cock with his dad’s cum. He then moved his ass up and down as if he was trying to coat the cock with cum, after which, the son was only too happy to slam his cock into Pasha’s wet hole in a similar fashion to his dad producing a satisfying loud welch.
Atlas walked and cockily stood on Hazim’s side, who was leaning back, which would make his cock would be inches from Hazim’s face if he was to sit. Of course, Hazim sat straight away.
Hazim inhaled the deep manly musk, spunk, and ass sweat, making his throat feel dry.
“Is there anything else I can do to prove myself, your Whoreship?” Atlas said, seemingly proud of his wordplay.
Hazim was too lost in the musk to care but he did glance at Zain like a kid wanting a new toy. Zain, of course, had to oblige.
“Well, since I heard that you guys are planning to invest in mead making, why don’t you show the Caliph how to make your famous double-distilled mead,” Zain said as he pulled Hazim’s mouth open.
Hazim did not have a single clue of what was happening, but he did not complain or refuse when Atlas’s slimy cock went straight into his mouth.
Atlas did not want to ease his way in and instead went straight into a deepthroat, which Hazim only choked once before accepting all 7” into his throat. He tried to pull away to begin sucking, but Atlas held his head in.
“I am going to give you our signature double-distilled mead, your Whoreship. It’s going to taste great. Says yes if you’d allow me.”
With a mouthful of cock, Hazim replied with, “Yeaaghh,” and choked.
“Good, now I want to feel your tongue lick and suck on my shaft, and get your son’s cunt juice on your tongue, okay?” Atlas did not wait for an answer as he used both of his hands to rotate Hazim’s head left and right like he was using a dick vacuum cleaner, before moving it in and out slowly.
Once he felt the slime was off his shaft, Atlas moved Hazim’s head farther, leaving only his glans in. Again, he moved Hazim’s head around his lower head like a knob polisher while the Caliph slurped happily and loudly, “Yeah, get the cheese too. I don’t have much of it since your whore of a son like dickcheese.”
Like father, Like son, Zain thought.
Feeling satisfied, Atlas pulled his cock off completely with a pop, then he used both of his hands to open Hazim’s mouth by the forehead and the chin. He held the head still while his soft cock was hovering above Hazim’s thirsty mouth, and since he was standing from the side, everyone could see as a drop of piss followed by a yellow pungent stream fell down into Hazim’s mouth, including Pasha who was being passed around the three sons.
Inexperienced, Hazim choked and tried to close his mouth, but Atlas held it open and let the stream go even as the piss splattered and made a mess out of Hazim’s face and thick beard.
His mouth was soon filled by Atlas’s piss, almost leaking out, to the last drops that Atlas squeezed out of his cock.
Atlas spat on Hazim square on the face, chuckled, and then spat on the pool of piss inside Hazim’s mouth. He let Hazim stay like that for a few minutes before telling Hazim to gulp all down.
Hazim did, and let out a satisfied groan as he looked amazed at Atlas who smirk cockily.
The man then walked to Hazim’s liquor cabinet and took one bottle out, Hazim still had a considerable amount of alcohol despite having thrown most of them in his fit of anger earlier. He sat on the pillow fort right beside Hazim like he had owned the place himself.
Hazim looked insulted, but he did not say anything more out of pride than acquiescence. He started coming to terms with the fact that his son’s husband might be someone he could be proud of after all.
“My sons and nephew prepared a special show for you,” He said and then clapped at the sons, “Show his Whoreship boys!”
The sons gave Atlas their thumbs before moving Pasha into position. Rolled up with his back facing Hazim like earlier, but closer to Hazim. The eldest son took his dad’s position on top of Pasha, but instead of facing Hazim like his dad, his back was facing the Caliph. He pushed his cock in and lead forward towards Pasha. His younger son moved in front of the couple with his ass touching the Eldest’s back as he bent forward until his hands supported his body on the ground, before plugging his cock in side by side with his brother in a double penetration.
“Oh fuck! Oh shit! Not this again! Have mercy on your slut!”
Atlas’s youngest brother clogged Pasha’s throat with his cock as he said, “Shut up, slut! Remember, your purpose is to be used and bred! Not talking and complaining!”
Hazim thought they were done, until the young and very handsome nephew, the handsomest of them all, smirked at him and gave him a cheeky wink as he stood in between the brothers. Without a word, he pushed with his ass so the eldest brother lean further while the younger brother crawled backward into the more comforting position for the nephew who was younger than both of them. He maintained his eye contact with Hazim as he slowly, but surely, snuggled his cock into the tight room that is Pasha’s hole.
“UGGGGGHHHH!!” Pasha screamed with a mouthful of cock.
“Remember the training cunt, if it’s not slick enough, you lubed it up. You have all the lube anyway,” the nephew said without stopping to push.
“See, the slut is quite handy. Hole and lube in one place!” Atlas said elbowing Hazim.
The passive-aggressive insult, surprisingly, did not lose on Hazim, but he was all too happy with the bro talk with the person he began warming up to, so he let out a genuine chuckle despite it being his son that Atlas was insulted.
After a few minutes of awkward pushing and Pasha’s scream-moans, Atlas finally said, “That’s enough, boys. We don’t want to break the hole before the wedding night, do we? Let your uncles play with him.”
The sons chuckled as they disengaged, and Pasha let out a breath of muffled relief and then pleasure when Atlas’s middle brother slammed his cock right in.
Then out of nowhere, Atlas suddenly turned to Hazim asking, “Have you had three cocks in your mouth?”
The next thing Hazim knew he was laying on the ground with the three sons angling awkwardly trying to push their cocks into the Caliph’s mouth. The teeth scraping was uncomfortable, but it was not every day they could stick their cock into a Caliph’s mouth. Besides, they could “instinctively” slap the man who enslaved them in the face if their dick got scrapped so it was a plus.
“That’s enough boys. Why don’t you give his Whoreship your signature Three Brothers Mead instead? Complete with creams.”
The boys were only too happy to give the Caliph their cream, especially after the Caliph generously and magnanimously worked their cocks for their creamy milk which he was told to be kept in his mouth. Then after he had gathered every single drop of cum out of the brothers, he opened his mouth and let the brothers fill his mouth with their piss until it was almost overflowing, and stored the rest in a mug. He gulped down the entirety of the “Three Brother Mead” with a satisfied hiss, and only too gladly to receive a fist-bump from Atlas.
Pasha continued to be fucked by rows and rows of husbands of his, and after they were done fucking Pasha, the Caliph would personally taste their personal “mead”.
Hazim treated Atlas who sat beside him like an equal, while Atlas treated Hazim like his personal cocksucker. At first, it was only to offer his “mead”, but then Hazim’s mouth did not come off his cock, continuously milking it for mead and milk, and when it was soft, he became Atlas’s balls warmer. When he was not tasting the mead of the other husbands, Hazim’s mouth went straight back to suck on Atlas’s cock and balls.
Zain was only watching with interest, trying to calm whatever urge was brewing inside him all the way. The only interaction he had was when Atlas moved closer beside him replacing Hazim who no longer even bother to watch his son getting fucked and settled in front of Atlas laying flat on his stomach to serve as his cocksleeve.
“Spread your asscheeks, and let the husbands have something to entertain themselves while waiting for their turn,” Zain ordered Hazim, and when the Caliph did, the husbands whistled at the “Prime Pussy”.
Atlas, sitting beside Zain, reached around Zain’s waist, carefully and respectfully, and when Zain did not refuse, his hand traveled down to grab Zain’s phat ass. There was no smirk, no snide, no passive-aggressive remark, only respect and admiration, and he did not try to push further. Zain was essentially the man who saved their life, and Atlas knew that well, but he also thing the brown phat ass looked too juicy to pass.
When Zain had to go to pray, which was led by Ahmad since his father was indisposed, he told them to behave and Atlas made sure all of them did. He also told them Hazim’s ass was off-limit, but Atlas had already guessed so from the beginning.
Nobody questions where the Caliph was during the prays, but Zain did notice that, since Ahmad was leading the prayer which meant he was at the most front, Ahmad had a couple of love bites around the inside of his asscheeks during their Dusk prayer. The number of love bites increased during their evening and even more during the night prayers. He also noticed his youngest brother, Arshak was praying behind Ahmad, replacing Ahmad’s usual position, and if Zain had not been as focused as he was during prayer, he would’ve noticed Arshak was nose-deep in Ahmad’s crack during the bent-over and prostrating position.
Zain did not let that bother him much and went on a night patrol once their caravan settled for camping since he thought Atlas got the party at the Caliph’s undercovered.
Right away, he noticed that while the effect of the itching powder had disappeared from the rest of his soldiers, the Berber soldiers still had prominent itchiness left as they kept trying to rub their asshole on a pole or anything they could find, really. Their mind seemed to have cleared out of all drugs. He was unhappy when he found out that Hossam was missing, and he had a strong inclination where the man was. So he went straight to Oliver’s tent.
And sure enough, he found Hossam bent over on his stomach on top of a table, and Oliver was talking with one of his assistants while his cock actively churning a day’s worth of cum inside Hossam’s hole.
“Oliver!” Zain said in between his gritted teeth.
“Uh oh, you better leave…” Oliver said to the man who disappeared before even he finished his sentence.
“I told you not to mess with him!”
“I do not! Just ask him!” Oliver held his hands upright.
“No, Zain, he was right! Ungh!” Hossam rose up from the table but still bent over with his hole still being worked over by Oliver’s cock that never stop moving, “I know how it must’ve looked for you. I was being, ungh, bad, oh right there,” Hossam spread his legs further giving easier access to Oliver’s cock, “Sorry… As I said, I was being, ungh, hostile toward him the first time we met, and I felt ashamed of that. Truly. Ungh, so today, I was really out of it, I don’t know why, I am just out of shape. But this man helped me ride my horse the whole day and he kept massaging me all the way to make me feel better, and even now, he’s still massaging my sore muscles.”
“The whole day… All the way…” Zain muttered, his expression did not get any better.
“Oh yeah, ungh, I mean yeah. I am terribly ashamed of my earlier attitude, but I’ll learn to do better and not embarrass you any further Zain. You don’t have to worry, Oliver and I are all good now. But if I am honest, it’s not my fault that he doesn’t look trustworthy—ungh!!!”
“And it’s not my fault you have a tight ass,” Oliver said slapping one of the bubbly firm cheeks.
“Can’t argue with that.”
Zain shook his head, “Do you even realize what he’s talking about? What he’s currently doing? Are you really okay, Hossam?”
“Ungh, yeah, he’s massaging my insides with his, ugh, cock,” When Hossam said that, Oliver hit Hossam’s prostate and ground his cock there making the man’s eyes roll back moaning, “Yeah, really good massage…”
Zain wasn’t satisfied, “Just tell me what did you do?”
“As he told you, massaging him. Fine, I learned how to do massage from the book the Han physician left, and practiced it on Hossam, and he really liked it. So what’s the problem? It’s not like I drugged him. You can ask him.”
“Yeah, he did not drug me. It’s all good, Zain.”
Zain still did not look convinced, so Oliver pulled away his cock out of Hossam’s brown cake making the man groan in disappointment,
“Fuck, I can’t massage you with that scary eyes boring into my soul. Even if it doesn’t kill me, it kills my boner!”
Hossam looked at Zain pleading, “Zain, I am honestly good. We’re good, both of us. I will make up for my earlier attitude with him okay? Let me fix this.”
Zain wasn’t convinced, it was hard to when the man who said it was naked with a hard cock and god-like body, not even mentioning the content of what was said. But he knew pursuing it further right then would get him nothing, so he relented.
“Fine… I’ll let whatever this is. Just…” He looked at Oliver, “Don’t do anything bad or irreparable damage. Promise me.”
“I promise you, with my soul.”
Zain still did not believe the man, but he nodded either way.
“Well, let’s get back to work then. Spread your cheeks man,” Oliver jiggled Hossam’s bubble ass as he said that, and Hossam was very eager as he reached his butt and spread it baring his puffed reddish dark star.
“Sure man, that’s all I could do anyway, ungh…” Hossam looked blissfully happy as the cock started to fill him again.
“I mean, you can try to squeeze your ass, ugh, yeah like that buddy, just like that. See, Zain, teamwork. You should be happy for us.”
Zain almost wanted to hit Oliver square in the face, that man had started to get on his nerves. He didn’t know if he could stand the man any longer, so he said goodbye and reminded Oliver not to leave damage.
When he arrived back at the Caliph’s palanquin, he did not feel any better once he saw the Caliph kneeling in front of his palanquin facing his huge black slaves, while every single Pasha’s husbands gave him a golden shower to commemorate them passing Hazim’s test. They were all cheering, even the black slaves who were trained to remain stoic couldn’t help but snicker that their tyrant was absolutely defiled in front of them. When Zain arrived with a dark face, however, all of them went quiet. Atlas hung his head in shame and apologized repeatedly. Zain did not say a word and told Hazim to get back into his tent and ban him from release before going back to rest in his own tent.
Back in Oliver’s tent, the man remained digging the Berber’s ass for a few minutes after Zain had gone, just to make sure, before pulling out again.
“What the fuck man?” Hossam gruntled.
“It’s that time again to make you feel even better,” Oliver said as he pulled another bottle of special aphrodisiac oil that made the nerves more sensitive. He had emptied three bottles into Hossam’s asshole periodically in between fuck to make the asshole nerves even more sensitive.
He wasn’t exactly being truthful when he said he didn’t drug Hossam. He did give the man aphrodisiac, itching salve, and massage oil to make him feel even more pleasure when Oliver massaged-fuck him. It was not a drug that would ruin Hossam, as his intention was not to break the man’s mind but to make him love being fucked by him so much that it would be the first recreational activity that he always thought of.
He knew Zain wouldn’t approve of that either, luckily, Hossam was too stupid to know he had been drugged all along.
He stuck the last bottle of oil up Hossam’s ass and let it empty every drop of oil inside. Hossam never got used to the feeling of the oil filling up his insides every single time as each time, it felt different, stronger, and it made his ass feel even weirder.
“Oh fuck… God the Great…” Hossam grabbed his head as the new weird feeling from the oil filling his inside was even weirder and more uncomfortable yet addicting than the last time. He unconsciously lifted his butt up so the oil spread even faster, “What was that… It was really strange—OH FUCK!”
Oliver was merely pulling the bottle out of Hossam’s ass but the man was already convulsing like he was about to cum.
“What the fuck!? What are you doing to me?” He said clearly, yet his mind was already elsewhere from the pleasure.
Oliver grinned wickedly when he saw the reaction, and he excitedly moved Hossam into Hossam’s favorite position, angling for the prostate. If usually it would be enough to make Hossam moaned like a bitch, but the last phase of the drug treatment should make him 100 times more sensitive.
Hossam jolted when Oliver tapped his asshole with the cockhead already feeling the electricity, and when Oliver placed his cockhead on the entrance, bracing himself, Hossam was already shivering with anticipation and fear, “I am about to take you to heaven, and you’ll piss yourself there.”
It was the last thing Hossam heard before he let out a loud howl. It was as if he was being electrocuted with pleasure from his asshole and nerve ending sensation spread to every corner of his body like wildfire. His cock blasted his cum right away and his body was continuously spasming while his mouth howled. He looked back at Oliver crying while the man wickedly grinned at him, even mischievously flexing his cock making Hossam squeal.
Hossam’s brain was still struggling to process the pleasure, but his body was already trembling in fear just from looking at Oliver’s smirk. Sure enough, when he said, “You’re still not pissing yet,” tears streaming down his face as he laughed, almost pissed himself from the fear and lust if Oliver did not pull his cock out, making him cum straight away. And when the man jackrabbited his convulsing with wild vibration flesh tunnel, cum streamed out of his cock like piss. Before an hour, he was already pissing for real, and in the next hour, not even a drop of piss left inside him. But he was not done being obliterated until morning.
When he came to, still with a headache, his balls ached and his cock was hurting. He slowly realized that he was in Oliver’s palanquin and the man himself was spooning him. He looked back at Oliver who was smirking.
“I told you, I’ll make you my cocksleeve.”
It was then he realized Oliver’s cock was lodged tightly in his ass, that Oliver had played him, and he had been outplayed. Soon his face was red with fury, he growled menacingly, “I am going to kill you,” and he meant every word.
Oliver only smirked, and it took only one flex from his cock inside Hossam’s ass to make him t holding his legs up while Oliver reamed his rear. It was then he heard laughter and was aware of the people inside the tent. When he looked at each face, he remembered them, more specifically, he remembered their cocks, the places they fucked him, the positions they made him do, the handprint on his ass as they clapped his cheeks, and made him shit their cum then drank it down while they replaced it with a new one, in the middle of the Berber camp with his men as drugged audience. And worse of all, remembered vividly the feeling of their cocks fucking his ass, turning and churning his inside, like there were numerous cocks pounding him at the same time as Oliver pounded him with his trademark wicked grin.
He leaned down, and whispered lowly in his ear, “You’re being a tight ass to me, I am opening that ass up, bitch.”
Hossam blasted his cum reaching his own face, and for the rest of the day, he was being milked until there was nothing left in his balls.
HELLOW! And Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!
Finally, I can get an update out! I know I said I was planning a more consistent update, but it has been a very rough year. My apologies, I truly have nothing to defend myself with.
I know it’s weird for me to update an Arabic fiction during Christmas, but I figured, it is actually quite popular and highly rated, and I also haven’t updated this story in quite a long time, so I hope all of you will enjoy reading it!
Anyway, thank you for your patience and support as always! And if you have feedback or thoughts to share, my email is always open for you!
