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The wind swept across the dunes and the moon burned brightly in the night. I had been travelling all day and now well into the evening. Although I seemed to remember a small town nearby from prior journeys through the area, this night I could find no safe harbour. I was almost out of hope and had long been out of water when I saw a torch burning in the distance as I mounted the crest of a large dune.
My sandals were worn and my Thobe, once white, now held the color of the sand. My Taqiyah was stretched and wet from the sweat of my brow. Every step brought me closer to the flame that I saw in the distance yet unconsciousness stalked me like a predator. I wondered if the dessert would take me before I reached this sanctuary in the distance.
Finally as I reached the apex of the last dune, I collapsed and rolled into the small encampment below. The resident of the Khayma had hung his dirty pans on a stake to be cleaned by the blowing sands of the night. As I tumbled into his makeshift home in the dessert they fell to the ground before me with a clatter.
My last memory before I drifted out of consciousness was the image of a man's face, he looked no more than twenty-two years. His skin was as smooth as fine silk and the color of the finest cinnamon, and over perfectly formed high cheekbones, his dark and intense brown eyes stared down at me. His full red lips, quivered, looking for words. As they began to form a question, I surrendered to the darkness and my mind wandered into dreams.
.......................................................................................
I awoke. My eyes opened and he was next to me. I immediately realized I was naked, laid on a large nest of pillows on the carpeted floor of the Black tent. I had never felt such soft comfort before.
"Be silent," the man said, as he placed a strong hand on my bare chest holding me in place. His thumb brushed my nipple and I took a deep breath. I watched his eyes as they slowly travelled the length of my chest and stomach. He lifted his hand and gently placed a finger in my navel and delicately followed the light trail of hair below it until he reached the thick growth of hair above my cock.
I looked down and saw a large ornate urn beside him, full of crystal clear water. This was no trader's caravan I had stumbled into. My eyes beheld the trappings of a Caliph. His robes were made of the finest cloth, embroidered and beset with gems around the collar. Gems that reflected the lamplight giving his face an unearthly glow.
"I will wash the dessert from your body and your cares from your mind. You are safe," he said pulling a large cloth from the urn of water. His voice was deep yet soothing. Every gesture was as strong as a lion yet as graceful as a gazelle. His arms seemed to be sculpted from marble and his body smelled of the finest oils.
I was aware that I should be ashamed of my nakedness, but somehow I knew I had no choice but to lay there and be washed. As he delicately rubbed the moist cloth across my body, my skin tingled and every hair on my body stood up. Slowly he worked his way down from my face and neck to my chest. He washed my stomach and as his damp cloth touched my cock, my legs reflexively jumped up, yet... ..
one leg was yanked down, unable to freely move. A quick look down confirmed my fears - a shackle and a chain running away from it was attached to a large immovable iron stake in the ground.
"Who are you?" I demanded as his hands stroked my slowly growing penis. Never before had any man touched me in such a way. It felt....
intoxicating
I wanted to push his hand away with mine, but somehow I could not.
"I am Ghul Malik," he said releasing my now hard cock from his hands.
"Ghul Malik?" I asked, my mind racing. Where had I heard that name before? Somewhere in the long forgotten tales of childhood that my grandfather had told me - I knew that it was there that I would find the answer.
And then it struck me as lightening strikes the dessert and melts it to glass. The Ghul were the legendary and unpredictable shape shifting Djinn and Malik was their master of slaves.
He looked down at me with a glimmer of amusement in his eye as he saw my fear. He reached behind him and pulled a small iron rod out of the brazier. It had the glowing red symbol of a lightening bolt at its end.
As he moved to press it to my thigh, he looked again into my eyes and said...
"Yes, Ghul Malik... and from now until I grow bored with you, you shall be mine"
My sandals were worn and my Thobe, once white, now held the color of the sand. My Taqiyah was stretched and wet from the sweat of my brow. Every step brought me closer to the flame that I saw in the distance yet unconsciousness stalked me like a predator. I wondered if the dessert would take me before I reached this sanctuary in the distance.
Finally as I reached the apex of the last dune, I collapsed and rolled into the small encampment below. The resident of the Khayma had hung his dirty pans on a stake to be cleaned by the blowing sands of the night. As I tumbled into his makeshift home in the dessert they fell to the ground before me with a clatter.
My last memory before I drifted out of consciousness was the image of a man's face, he looked no more than twenty-two years. His skin was as smooth as fine silk and the color of the finest cinnamon, and over perfectly formed high cheekbones, his dark and intense brown eyes stared down at me. His full red lips, quivered, looking for words. As they began to form a question, I surrendered to the darkness and my mind wandered into dreams.
.......................................................................................
I awoke. My eyes opened and he was next to me. I immediately realized I was naked, laid on a large nest of pillows on the carpeted floor of the Black tent. I had never felt such soft comfort before.
"Be silent," the man said, as he placed a strong hand on my bare chest holding me in place. His thumb brushed my nipple and I took a deep breath. I watched his eyes as they slowly travelled the length of my chest and stomach. He lifted his hand and gently placed a finger in my navel and delicately followed the light trail of hair below it until he reached the thick growth of hair above my cock.
I looked down and saw a large ornate urn beside him, full of crystal clear water. This was no trader's caravan I had stumbled into. My eyes beheld the trappings of a Caliph. His robes were made of the finest cloth, embroidered and beset with gems around the collar. Gems that reflected the lamplight giving his face an unearthly glow.
"I will wash the dessert from your body and your cares from your mind. You are safe," he said pulling a large cloth from the urn of water. His voice was deep yet soothing. Every gesture was as strong as a lion yet as graceful as a gazelle. His arms seemed to be sculpted from marble and his body smelled of the finest oils.
I was aware that I should be ashamed of my nakedness, but somehow I knew I had no choice but to lay there and be washed. As he delicately rubbed the moist cloth across my body, my skin tingled and every hair on my body stood up. Slowly he worked his way down from my face and neck to my chest. He washed my stomach and as his damp cloth touched my cock, my legs reflexively jumped up, yet... ..
one leg was yanked down, unable to freely move. A quick look down confirmed my fears - a shackle and a chain running away from it was attached to a large immovable iron stake in the ground.
"Who are you?" I demanded as his hands stroked my slowly growing penis. Never before had any man touched me in such a way. It felt....
intoxicating
I wanted to push his hand away with mine, but somehow I could not.
"I am Ghul Malik," he said releasing my now hard cock from his hands.
"Ghul Malik?" I asked, my mind racing. Where had I heard that name before? Somewhere in the long forgotten tales of childhood that my grandfather had told me - I knew that it was there that I would find the answer.
And then it struck me as lightening strikes the dessert and melts it to glass. The Ghul were the legendary and unpredictable shape shifting Djinn and Malik was their master of slaves.
He looked down at me with a glimmer of amusement in his eye as he saw my fear. He reached behind him and pulled a small iron rod out of the brazier. It had the glowing red symbol of a lightening bolt at its end.
As he moved to press it to my thigh, he looked again into my eyes and said...
"Yes, Ghul Malik... and from now until I grow bored with you, you shall be mine"
keep it coming!
