Blue Bottled Belly Dancers and other fine myths
I spent three months in the Topkapi Palace in the fifteenth century, and fell in love with it. The sultan had decided that since I was Heeroís property, then Heero would take the blame if I defiled any of the concubines. It worked out for me so that I was allowed to roam the harem, and make friends.
It was something to do while I waited for Heero. In this way, I truly was one of the harem. I waited for my master to come to me, and it was what filled my mind for most of the day. This way of thinking had gradually become like breathing to me. It just was.
Possibly, it was because no one could remain themselves when in a world so outlandishly different from their own. I was no longer Duo Maxwell; I was the Demon Concubine of the Sultanís Djinn. It was quite a title to uphold.
After my first few nights with Heero, I realized that I liked what we did together. No, I loved it; I craved it like an addictive drug. I had to have more of it, and it was never enough. It got to the point where I would wait in that green and gold tiled room. Just sit and wait for him to come to me. I didnít care that I was being silly, acting like a lovesick fool. I wanted him.
I forgot about the world Iíd come from, what I had left behind. There was no point in thinking about it, if I never knew when Iíd be seeing it again. Though, sometimes I would laugh late at night, thinking about the fact that I was the only American alive at that time. America hadnít even been settled yet, and there I was a full-fledged, made in the USA American, in Istanbul. It was enough to make me laugh to the point of breaking. And it was at these times I realized that Heero was more then what I had thought he was. Because he understood.
Iíd been in the palace nearly a month when I decided to do something. I had feeling if I didnít go with this strange urge, time might not like it. I knew, that those visions Iíd had when Iíd been on the tour were real. At some point, I would be in that emerald silk. The problem was, where to find it? The harem was a vast place, and I had gotten to know it very well.
The women found me fascinating, one of the few males they had ever been allowed to be around that still had all his genitalia. At first they were afraid of me, thinking perhaps it was trick of some sort, or maybe I was just another type of eunuch, though a few thought I was merely an odd looking woman. Then they gradually flocked around me, exclaiming over me like a new toy.
They played with my hair and lift up the edge of my caftan to giggle at my legs. They were silly, fun, laughing and serious. I grew to know a lot of them very well despite our differences, though, not well enough in a way that would have upset the sultan. I wouldnít have dreamed of sleeping with any of them, and they knew it. There was only one person I wanted.
I wanted him day and night, no matter what I was doing, where I was. It didnít matter anymore; the only thing I cared about was pleasing him, making love to him, being with him. Iíd found he had a penchant for a silk, or a fetish some might say. He loved that cloth, claiming, to my utter embarrassment, that the only thing softer was my skin. He had a tendency to do that to me. Compliment me when I was least expecting it; spill tender words when I didnít think he would ever say such things.
Then one day I found it, the emerald silk. It was lying in the bottom of one of the many chests hidden within the harem. Occasionally the chests would be stuffed with linens or mementos. But once in a while they held clothing, such as this one did.
Once I had finally found it, I couldnít bring myself to wear it. I would look at it, look at myself, and then wonder what on earth I was doing in a harem in Istanbul. The problem was, that the outfit was extremely... feminine. I didnít mind the caftans, hell the sultan wore one. But this was different. This was crossing a line I didnít know if I could cross. Iíd always considered myself a guy, a male, despite what I found myself doing with Heero.
But this emerald silk outfit, it screamed sex. It practically was sex, sex embodied in a garment. A garment that I as a male, just couldnít wear. I felt that if I put it on, I would be sacrificing whatever was left of my pride. Yet, I wanted to wear it, knew I had to.
In the end, it was my friends within the harem that helped me out. After spending a month contained by the same restrictions as they, I had managed to learn some of the language. This was after all, a total immersion situation; I couldnít help but pick up a few words. At least enough for basic communication.
They spent the day finding pieces of cloth that matched the emerald coloring, standing me like a mannequin within a small room filled with mirrors. Poking me with little fingers, tossing cloth this way and that around my body, until they were satisfied with the results.
I barely recognized myself in the mirrors; so different was I from my usual demeanor. In spite of what I had thought, I looked surprisingly masculine in the slithering, sensual cloth. Theyíd rigged the silk so that it slid low over my hips, draping and revealing the slim lines of my stomach and lower abdomen, flowing around my legs to hide or caress them. Thin gold bands wrapped around my upper arms, accenting the toned muscles. Oil rubbed into my skin bringing out a soft golden glow, along with a subtle fragrance.
I had tried to argue them out of the kohl around my eyes, but had found myself actually being held down by a body of women, as they smudged the dark makeup onto my face. But in the end, I found it wasnít all that bad. It brought out my eyes so that they gleamed with an extra depth. I wouldíve almost said hypnotically. It was a good trick.
The final preparations were the hours spent brushing my hip length hair into submission, running a light, spicy smelling oil through it until it gleamed. Before I left them to head back to my own quarters, they stopped me, and each kissed me gently on my mouth in parting, leaving behind a residue of berries that I tasted all the way back to my green and gold tiled room.
When he came to me later that evening, I was ready for him. Stretched out and lounging on the low circular bed, wanting to run and hide, but staying my ground instead. Iíd been hard for hours with the wanting of him, desire a palpable thing in the air around me I was sure.
I smiled seductively at him as he stood by the door, crooking a finger invitingly. "I know what you want." I whispered to him in a low, throaty voice that carried across the room.
His eyes took on an added light Iíd learned to recognize, a look just for me. He approached the bed slowly, as if stalking it. His feet were noiseless, black robes gently swaying as he stepped closer. He knelt down next to the bed, for all the world looking like a shadow at worship.
I felt suddenly wanton and wicked, a powerful combination that both frightened and excited me. It was intoxicating to know that he was mine, and that no matter how much he claimed to own me, I owned him just as much. I knew at that moment, he would have given me anything I asked for. But, there was only one thing I wanted.
I ran a hand through my hair, letting it fall in a soft fan against my naked stomach, watching him as I did. I reached out and trailed a finger down his nose, tapping the tip. "I know what you want." I said again, sliding my feet off the bed so that I sat between his legs where he knelt on the floor. I lifted one foot, idly brushing it against his thigh. Looking up I met his eyes. "You want me."
He remained silent, seemingly entranced, though his lips had parted, letting out a barely audible groan. I shifted closer to him, gliding my fingers briefly over his cheek, resting a hand against his face, then leaning in and staring into his eyes at close range. "You want to fill me, take me, use me." I nuzzled his cheek, whispering in his ear. "But youíre mine."
He shivered, leaning into my touch, and I smiled against him. "Get on the bed, take off your clothes, and donít move unless I say so." And to my surprise, he did just that.
I watched as his robes disappeared, golden skin revealed in seconds. He slid onto the bed, lying on his back and gazing at me. I crawled over to him, straddling his waist and looking down into his eyes. "Tonight you will provide for me anything and everything I ask of you, without question. Do you understand?"
He nodded, and I slid against him briefly, letting him taste the feel of me for a moment. I brushed my lips across his, slipping my tongue along his lower lip then biting hard. "First," I said on a soft exhalation. "I want you bound. Bind yourself for me Heero." I leaned back up, sitting on his thighs. The silk slipped across the bed and around his wrists, I glanced behind, and watched as it covered his ankles.
"Very good." I purred, rubbing a hand over his arousal, watching as the muscles rippled across his body in reaction. "Now supply me with a small bowl of oil." A tiny bowl appeared in the hollow of his stomach, the liquid within, shiny and dark. I dipped a finger in, bringing it dripping to my mouth. "Is it sweet Heero? Does it taste good?" And I watched as the oil changed color slightly, a soft smell emanating from it. I sucked on my fingertip, and it was sweet, light, spicy, just like he tasted.
I skimmed my hand through the bowl, coating it in oil and then letting it drip onto his chest and belly. His skin jumped as each droplet struck. I scooped up more of the oil, letting it cup in my palm and drizzle through my fingers over his twitching cock. He groaned softly, shifting his hips on the bed, raising them slightly, offering himself to me.
I knelt up on my knees, rubbing my hands together, covering them both with the slick substance. Then, keeping my eyes locked on his face, I slowly caressed my chest, circling my nipples, pinching them to hardened points. My other hand leaving a shining path as it explored further to slip inside my silks.
He moaned, closing his eyes as if he couldnít bear the sight, then opening them again to watch my every move. His hands clenched inside the silk bonds, spasming as if dying to touch my body.
I rocked against his thighs, sliding my fingers around myself, knowing he was observing. My head tilted back, a low whimper easing out of my throat as my slick fingers stroked the hardened shaft between my legs. I remembered he was watching and met his eyes again, slowing the rough stroking, then stopping and once more dipping my fingers in the bowl of oil. "Do you want me to taste you?"
He nodded mutely, licking his lips as I eased backwards down his legs. I slid my fingers around his erection, coating it until it was glossy and wet with the oil. His back arched, and he panted as I relentlessly fondled him. It took an almost painful amount of will power to remove my hand from him. Slowly I bowed my mouth towards his straining member, licking it like a cat with cream, lapping at it, nuzzling my cheek against it until it trembled and begged me of its own accord.
"Mmm, it feels so good just touching you." I murmured, lying beside his bound form, fingers still idly toying with him. I crawled up until my head rested against his shoulder. He turned his face, staring at me with eyes gone brilliant with desire and need. "Do you want release Heero?" And the question held an undertone I hadnít meant to add.
His eyes slitted and he leaned his head towards me, taking my mouth in a swift, hard kiss. My hands twined through his hair, body mindlessly rubbing against him as his tongue entered and danced with my own. I could feel him tugging on the silk bindings, fighting against himself to be free. He wasnít the only one rapidly losing control.
My leg slipped between his, grinding against his thickness, while I unthinkingly pounded against his hip, craving my own climax. His lips against mine were an unending torment, rapidly driving my yearning into a burning need to have him buried deep inside of me. I pulled back finally, breathing heavily, trying to regain control of myself. "How badly do you want me Heero? How much more can you take?"
His eyes opened, focusing on mine in a dazed way. I sent a questing hand to find the bowl of oil, only to discover itíd been knocked over. I frowned, and then smiled at him. "Make more."
Another bowl appeared, this time sitting on his chest. Never releasing his gaze, I slowly tipped the small bowl, so that its contents spilled across and down his body, shining rivulets and drops collecting and running onto the sheets.
I was making a mess, and I didnít care. Because the look in his eyes was enough to make my heart start hammering, my blood pulse, my body hot all over, feverish. "Oh god Heero... " I clamped my mouth to his again, climbing on top of him, and grinding into him as hard as I could, wanting nothing more than the pure physical sensation of his body pressed against me.
There was the sound of cloth ripping, shredding, and then his arms were around me, pulling me tightly to him, rolling me beneath him.
"Enough." He growled, fingers fumbling and then tearing the emerald silks from my body. "I tire of this teasing game, you are mine."
I moaned as he rolled me over again, one strong arm pulling me up onto my hands and knees, spreading my legs far apart on the oil soaked bed. I turned my head, glancing over my shoulder to watch him. He looked fierce, almost angry, then he smiled grimly at me and a bowl of oil appeared in his hand. With a wide grin, he dumped it down my back, spreading it further down, hand slipping between my cheeks to rub against my entrance.
I raised my hips, knowing what was coming next and wanting it so bad I was shaking. His fingers opened me and thrust inside, stretching me quickly and without his usual care. It only turned me on more to know he was so out of control, so close to the edge. "Show me Heero... god... yes...show me Iím yours... "
The breath left my lungs in a loud gasp as he gripped my hip with one hand and began pushing inside of me with that thick, hard length of him. It was like being torn in two without the tearing, split, impaled. It felt so good. Every oil-slicked inch of him was hot and throbbing as he leisurely entered, sending shudders and tremors from the inside out to crackle across my body.
Finally, he was completely buried inside, and he stilled. Leaning over my shoulder, he rolled his hips in small, tight circles. "Ahhh, do you see what you make me do?" The slight movement changed, becoming a deeper, pumping action. "You make me lose all control." He whispered against my neck, arms circling me, holding me tighter, his breath heaving out in ragged pants.
His hips began snapping, driving into my body with more force, slamming me down and up, filling, and filling. A scream of absolute rapture roiled up within my chest, welling out and seeming to shake the very tiles of the room. I started sobbing for breath, unable to bear the sensations, feeling myself slipping beyond reality to float in a hazy cloud of pure movement and desire. A constant chant fell from my lips as his length glided in and out like a living machine.
With a final thrust, his hand wrapped around my quivering arousal and gave it a few hard strokes, sending me jolting up onto my knees as he exploded within my body, crooning into my neck. "Mine, always mine."
Shaking, he lowered me gently to the bed, easing out and rolling me over, kissing away the tears that had leaked from my sightless eyes. Curling his body around mine, his lips drifted across my own, lingering and soft. "Did I hurt you?" He asked in a tender tone Iíd never heard before.
In answer, I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him to me, draping my limbs over him in a tired heap. "Never." I said, and meant it.