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From: "smilodon" <smilodonREMOVE@postmaster.co.uk>
NNTP-Posting-Date: Thu, 9 Sep 2004 19:54:07 +0000 (UTC)
Subject: {ASSM} King of a Distant Country Part 2 (MF, Mf, MFFF+,Oral, Anal etc etc)
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Date: Thu,  9 Sep 2004 18:10:02 -0400
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July 1870

I have been pondering lately on the nature of debauchery. That which, a few
scant months ago, I would have considered base and despicable behaviour I
now find commonplace. I seem to have lost the power to shock myself in any
way. My life has become one long hedonistic pursuit of new sensations. When
one act begins to pall, I must find another to stimulate my jaded senses.
With a stable of sixty beauties to choose from one would think it is a
relatively simple matter. Each of the girls has her own preference and some
display a degree of skill and dexterity that is truly amazing, yet even this
is no longer enough to move me. I have had them singly, in pairs or as many
as six at a time. I have held orgies that would rival Tiberius Caesar. There
seems to be no end to Cat's inventiveness in arranging these soirees and yet
and yet..

I now believe that the appetite may indeed be surfeited; acts that once
thrilled leave only a feeling of emptiness. Sinuous hips and swelling bosoms
no longer move me as they once did. Cat suggests I should try one of the
late Nizzam's catamites but that thought still disgusts me; what profit
would be there in a counterfeit woman? I find myself spending more time in
the company of Baljit. She is really the most intelligent young thing and
her mastery of English increases every day, as does her physical maturity.
As far as I can establish, she is now about fourteen or fifteen. The
enjoyment of regular meals has caused her to grow quite a bit taller and
although she still displays a charming childish quality at times, there is
no doubt that she will be something of a beauty. She is utterly devoted to
me and I am frequently aware of her large brown eyes upon me as I sit at my
desk ordering the affairs of the day.

One cause of increasing frustration to me is my inability to modernise the
organs of State here in Nambhustan. Any attempt at reform is furiously
resisted on the grounds that it will offend one faction or another or runs
contrary to established tradition. My only success has been in the abolition
of certain taxes that were applied only to the Hindoos. This did not find
favour with the Musselmen at Court but my word is law. Far too much of the
administration of the country is in the hands of the clerics of both
persuasions. Education and Law are both the province of either the Brahmins
or the Imams. Perhaps my being the son of a clergyman prejudices me against
men of religion. All I do know is that numerous taboos and religious laws
have a crippling effect on the poorer sort, yet they accept the strictures
with great equanimity. It seems to me that the very idea of getting one's
reward in the afterlife was invented by those who have most in the
here-and-now. The have-nots, of course, are conveniently kept at bay with
promises for the hereafter.

I have discussed this with Baljit. After all, she is one of those of the
untouchable caste who most epitomise the great divide. The Hindoos, of
course, believe in reincarnation, so her view is that the poor are
encouraged to conform in the unshakeable belief that they will return to
this earth in a higher degree. This can only be achieved if they live
blameless lives, so, rather than jeopardise their chance of being first at
the feeding trough, they accept their current lot as being only a passing
phase. This does much to explain their fatalism. I count this as being even
more cunning than the other religions that promise heavenly delights -
largely unspecified. At least these people can see how the superior sort
live and the contrasts could not be more stark. As the one who sits at the
top of this particular pyramid, I can afford to have my doubts.


September 1870

On the advice of my wily and extremely crooked Prime Minister, I am
undertaking a Royal Progress throughout the whole of Nambhustan. I agreed to
the idea initially because I was simply bored but, since we started, some
two weeks past, I have found my enthusiasm growing. One thing that has
become apparent is that such maps that do exist of the country are highly
fanciful and monstrously inaccurate. Neither is there any true census of the
people. This a situation that must be rectified and, accordingly, I have
sent for a team of German engineers to begin a scientific survey. This will
be a lengthy project as, even from the little I have seen of the interior,
it is quite apparent that large tracts are impenetrable jungle with few
roads worthy of the name anywhere. I am determined to rectify this and my
Germans will be given the additional task of planning a proper system of
communication. Who knows? I might even commission a railway up to Dimburrah.
It would be good to leave lasting impression of my enlightened rule on this
backward land.

Of course, one of the objectives of former Royal Progresses was the
recruitment of suitable nubile virgins for the Royal Harem. I have decided
that my stable will be kept at sixty, so, before leaving, I discharged some
fifteen of the girls to make room for the new recruits. This caused some
consternation among those selected and there was much wailing that was only
assuaged by the provision of handsome dowries. I made it clear that they
were free to do as they choose and, suitably enriched, they departed in good
spirits. The only exception was the large-breasted Persian girl, who was
inconsolable. It appears she has fallen in love with the little Annamese
girl so I had to allow the lovers to leave together, thus resulting in
sixteen vacancies. It will require the judgement of a Solomon to make the
choices for, everywhere we stop, we are presented with the most alluring
maidens that the locality has to offer.

I cannot make the natives understand that I wish to keep the numbers down.
The old Nizzam just kept adding to his harem until it reached ridiculous
proportions. I also reject all those offered who are not yet of age, or more
accurately, appear to be so, for many of these people have no true idea of
how old they are. My companions on the Progress are Cat, the Singhalese girl
and, inevitably, Baljit. We struggle to cover much more than eight or ten
miles per day, as, at each halt, my enormous pavilion must be erected along
with smaller affairs for the courtiers. All this tentage is carried on
elephant back and there is a train of bullock carts bringing the servants,
kitchens and assorted dunnage. We are escorted by six hundred Lancers and
two companies of foot, which act as camp guards. Setting up and striking
camp occupies at least four hours each day. It is a singularly
unsatisfactory and frustrating way to travel.

To give a flavour of the Progress, I will describe a typical 'durbar' - the
local name for a Royal Audience. We arrive at appointed place in mid
afternoon and the pavilions are set up. Before my own pavilion is a large
open space upon which is set a dais overtopped by an elaborate canopy. My
'throne' is then placed upon this platform and the local populace assemble.
Courtiers and guards flank the dais and I make my Royal Entrance last. All
then fall on their faces before me. I give a regal wave and they kneel up.
The various local headmen then present any petitions and I dispense my
judgements. This takes but a few lines to tell but is an inordinately
long-winded affair, as each has first to offer a paean of praise to the
monarch and then state his genealogy for sixty or seventy generations before
coming to the heart of the matter. Gifts must be exchanged and honours
conferred and all manner of rituals observed.

After this comes the feast, which takes another three hours or so. It is
therefore nearly midnight before we come to the judging of the virgins. A
number of young girls - anything between a dozen and thirty, depending on
the size of the district - are presented for my consideration. Protocol
demands that I must choose one from each district; to reject all would be
considered a royal humiliation. How does one choose? The simple answer is
'with great difficulty.' Prior to my experiences in Nambhustan, I would have
said that, in common with most men, I preferred a particular type of woman.
If pressed I would express a fancy for the more slender type, the athletic
variety of blonde English Rose. Of course, there was none of that stamp
available to me and, in any event, I have learnt to find beauty in a variety
of guises. I will confess that I am somewhat put off by thick ankles and
stocky legs, so those possessing these attributes were swiftly weeded out.

Thereafter, I became capricious in my choices. Those possessed of crooked
teeth, I rejected out of hand. Similarly, any displaying an incipient
moustache - a not uncommon phenomenon in these climes - were also dismissed.
But then, I would decide that today I wished for a short girl or one with
pointed conical breasts whereas yesterday, my preference might have been for
a taller maid with a rounded bosom. In short, what ever I chose one day, I
would choose differently the next so that my sole object became simple
variety. Having selected those that fit the day's criteria, I then allow Cat
to make the final selection. She accomplished this task by approaching each
candidate in turn and forcing on them a most passionate embrace. Those who
responded with a will were then selected. It amused me to think that Cat is
actually auditioning for her own benefit rather than mine, although she does
assure me that she seeks only to establish whether the girl is possessed of
a passionate nature.

Baljit watches each performance with disdain writ large on her grave
features. I believe she is aware of my growing ennui but says nothing. She
has involved herself in the process only once and that was to veto one of
Cat's choices. Baljit hissed something at the girl in question and the poor
creature fled. I took her to task but she simply shot me a penetrating
glance and asked if I was aware that the 'girl' was in fact a castrato - a
young eunuch impersonating a female. I was extremely angry that such a
deception could be attempted and declared that no candidate would be
selected from that district, now, or in the future. This puzzled the locals
greatly as the previous Nizzam had been much given to selecting such
creatures. It may have been an honest mistake but one I could not
countenance. Damn it all, I'm still British!

October 1870

After two months of toil and travel, the end is at last in sight. I cannot
begin to describe how weary I am of the whole damned thing. One place blurs
into another and the petitions seem more like repetitions. To add to my
misery, the monsoon has broken and our progress is hampered by washed-out
bridges and cloying mud. When it rains in India, it doesn't do so by half
measures. One can smell it coming - a sort of freshness in the air. Then the
distant hills are obliterated by a curtain of water and the horizon appears
to rush towards one as the deluge approaches. Finally, one hears a rushing
sound as the raindrops beat upon the foliage. Sometimes this is accompanied
by the celestial pyrotechnics of a great thunderstorm and the sky is riven
with forked lightning. The clouds are as black as Hades and all the water
they accumulated over the Bay of Bengal is dashed upon the sodden earth.
Raindrops hit the stony roads and bounce back to knee height; I can tell
you, they really sting if they strike exposed flesh. After this initial
onslaught, the clouds seem to settle down and weep steadily for hours.
Rivers become muddy brown torrents and the plains become inundated with
floodwater. Indeed, a monsoon storm is a singular experience.

We should be back in Nambhupore within the week, weather permitting. Thus
far I have 'collected' some fifteen virgins to replace the sixteen girls I
released. As there are no more durbars planned, that will have to do. Cat is
already planning the 'grand defloration' - it appears as if she wishes me to
take on all fifteen at one sitting, as it were. Well, as I previously
accomplished the feat of rogering fifty-eight at one go, it holds no
particular terrors for me and might actually be good sport. The girls all
have to undergo a period of instruction before the great event so I think it
might be a good way to celebrate Christmas!

(Editor's Note: The man is an absolute Bounder! To even consider desecrating
a solemn Christian Festival with this type of sordid bacchanalia leaves one
quite speechless. Is there no depth to which he will not sink?)


November 1870

My German engineers have arrived and a very odd lot they are too. The man in
charge is a funny little fellow with thick spectacles that appear to have
been made out of the bottom of beer bottles. He speaks little English and
goes about the place muttering "Ach, so!" Two of his companions, whom I have
named Tweedledum and Tweedledee, are both stout gentlemen of jolly
disposition who chatter like magpies in a rapid patois of English, German
and Hindi to any poor soul who has the misfortune to encounter them. This
causes great consternation among the locals, as they can barely understand
one word in twenty uttered. The fourth member of the party is a young Adonis
of over six feet in height- all blonde curls and chiselled features - whose
name is Albrecht. He speaks almost accentless English and is followed
everywhere by a crowd of admiring children. I must say he puts up with this
with great equanimity and, indeed, goes out of his way to explain to them,
in halting but serviceable Hindi, the use of the various instruments that
seem to be his particular province.

They have brought with them an almost unlimited supply of Pilsner beer and I
was extremely grateful for the half-dozen cases they presented to me, my
supplies of Alsopp's being almost exhausted. The girls, too, are much taken
with young Albrecht and judging by the astonished glances he shoots their
way, he is reciprocates their admiration. I believe Cat has some devilish
entertainment planned for the unfortunate young man. Baljit, on the other
hand, expresses a hearty dislike of him and opines that he is too much in
love with himself and makes too free with his hands when he believes no one
is watching. I put this down to her tender years and innocence. The older
girls have no such inhibitions although I sometimes wonder how they would
behave if they had true free will in the matter. They have been conditioned
over many years to provide physical pleasure and it may be that this
conditioning overrides their natural preferences. I will confess to finding
this somewhat of a puzzle. Left to their own devices, and in the absence of
a man, they diddle themselves or one another quite happily. There is a
secret room behind the main body of the seraglio and I have spent many happy
hours with Cat, watching the girls 'at play.' It is from here that I have
also observed the nature of the training given to our latest virginal
recruits. I must declare that I have found the process fascinating.

There are three of the older girls who have been charged with overseeing the
training though all but a handful of the rest also do their part. The first
stage was to prepare the newcomers for their future existence. Most of the
maidens led ordinary lives up until they were chosen for the King's Harem,
so the initial phase is designed to drive out any inhibitions they may have.
Thus, since their arrival, they have been required to go about the seraglio
entirely naked without even the questionable modesty afforded by the
gossamer pyjamas. They have been forced to submit to all manner of intimate
caresses from the other girls. Any maiden who objects is severely
disciplined and I was privy to one such episode. One of the newcomers
exhibited a marked reluctance when fondled by the other girls and sought to
cover herself with her hands whenever a girl attempted to touch her. The
three senior girls tried to explain that was not permitted but the wretched
virgin persisted. It was therefore decreed that she must undergo punishment.
The senior girls approached me and requested that the said punishment should
be administered before the entire Court. I demurred but agreed that,
instead, I would witness the necessary correction. My only stipulation was
that the girl should not be damaged in any way.

So it was that Cat and I found ourselves lounging on a comfortable divan
while all the harem girls assembled to witness proceedings. I ran an
appreciative eye over the naked new additions and took a little time to
examine their yonis, in case a new variety could be discovered. I was not
disappointed. All had now had their fleeces removed so were quite open to my
study. The removal of the thatch is quite something to witness in its own
right. The preferred method is to apply an extremely sticky mixture of
honey, herbs and some kind of native tree gum. This is allowed to solidify
and is then most brutally ripped away, taking every last vestige of
maidenhair with it. As you may imagine, the process is not without some pain
for the victim although Cat assures me that the resulting re-growth
diminishes each time the process is repeated. Thus it is that I am able to
study the yonis of all the girls with a wholly unobstructed view.

The one new variation that caught my eye belonged to a tall, willowy maid
with a long waist and narrow hips. Her breasts were tiny but perfectly
formed with dark chocolate nipples in contrast to her pale skin. I seem to
recall we chose her up near the northern frontier where the natives are of a
much lighter hue, presumably through intermarriage with the hill tribes.
However, if she was otherwise quite a beauty, her yoni drew me like a
magnet. She has the most pronounced mound I have ever seen. It rises from
her lower belly in a perfect, smooth, swelling curve. The outer petals are
so plump and round that nothing at all can be seen of the treasures within.
I had to convince myself that she was not another castrato foisted upon me
so I bade her approach a little closer and separated her outer lips with my
fingers. You may imagine my delight when I discovered, hiding within, the
largest little jewel I have ever seen. It was fully the length of the top
joint of my thumb and it reared from within its protective hood like a
cobra. Of course, I just had to taste this veritable gem and was able to
draw the entire button into my mouth and lash it with my tongue. Had it not
been for Cat's strict intervention, I would have had the girl then and
there. As it was, Cat shuffled herself onto my lap and took my rampant
member into her own yoni and thus we sat to witness the punishment of the
recalcitrant virgin.

She was led forth by the senior girls and was already in a proper state of
agitation, wailing and pleading and generally carrying on. The other girls
brought her up to a kind of table and fastened her, spread-eagled and face
up, by wrists and ankles. The lass's legs were spread so wide I could see
the tendons of her inner thighs and her yoni was open like an orchid in
bloom. Of course, the little jewel was nowhere in sight as she was in a
state of abject terror. The three teachers then stood back and each took a
fine, leather-covered wand from a waiting attendant. These looked like
nothing so much as very long riding-crops. At a sign from one of the
teachers, another girl stepped forward and tied a blindfold over the victim'
s eyes. The teachers then began to circle the table. They moved like
prowling tigers stalking an unsuspecting waterbuck. The other girls crowded
in closer and, at another sign from the senior girls, began to kiss and
stroke and lick every part of the exposed flesh. The maiden shuddered and
uttered a low keening sound. Despite herself, she was becoming decidedly
aroused. This was evident from the slow emergence of her shining jewel from
within its hiding place.

Suddenly, shockingly a crop slashed down, striking the girl's distended
nipple and eliciting a shriek of pain. Instantly, the tortured nubbin was
engulfed by a willing mouth and the girl's sobs eased as the gentle sucking
soothed her. No sooner had she recovered than another blow was struck. This
time it was delivered to the very top of the inside of her thigh, missing
her now engorged yoni by a finger's width. The girl's screams hit new
heights but yet again, the injured area was bathed in kisses and more than
one surreptitious lick was directed at her yoni in the process. Thwack! The
other nipple this time and then more soft ministrations. Crack! Across the
belly. Smack! The underside of the breasts. So it continued with the
distraught girl abused and soothed by turns. Most surprisingly of all, she
was obviously become very aroused and the assembled women played on this.
The teachers administered the intermittent stinging strokes of the crop
while the others nibbled, licked, stroked and sucked.


Needless to say, I found the spectacle highly arousing and with my member
buried deep in Cat's rippling yoni, I was having a high old time. Somewhat
to my consternation, I felt feelings of deep-seated aggression and yearned
to leap forward and wield one of the crops for myself. The girl was now in
the final throws of her punishment. It was clear from the way her hips were
jerking that she was approaching an enforced climax. Just as she was
striving towards her peak, everyone stepped back and the three teachers
lashed out in quick succession. Each blow, with barely a heartbeat between,
landed squarely on the girl's throbbing jewel. The sensation must have been
intense in the extreme for she barely uttered a sound but writhed furiously
before passing out momentarily. This was too much for me. I shoved Cat
roughly off my lap and strode towards the helpless victim. I loosed her
ankles and raised her hips, butting the tip of my lingam against her nether
orifice. Cat saw what I was about instantly and called sharply for scented
oil. One of the teachers hurried up with a small flask and proceeded to work
the oil into the girl's fundament with first one and then two fingers. She
slathered me in the stuff and I pushed hard against the tight, rubbery
muscles.

The girl regained consciousness just as I forced the tip of my member into
her and her eyes grew wide and she shook her head from side to side. I am
now much used to this particular style of fucking so I took my time and
allowed her to accommodate my probing lingam. I rocked my hips back and
forth, moving in and out by an inch or two at a time. Cat reached down and
began to stroke the girl's yoni with silken fingertips. Her face was
contorted with the pain of my intrusion into her virgin arse but it slowly
began to open to me and I pushed another inch inside her. This time I
maintained the pressure and was able to slide in the whole length until my
balls bounced on her spread buttocks. I lost any pretence of further
self -control shortly thereafter and began to buck and pump into that tight
tunnel for all I was worth. Other hands now squeezed her breasts or agitated
her swollen nipples and Cat's finger was a blur on her love-button.

It was apparent that the sight we presented was having an effect upon the
other girls for, before long, the whole crew were either diddling themselves
or each other for all they were worth. I let out a great bellow as my own
crisis hit me and I spurted forth a great quantity of seed into my, by now,
utterly confused virgin. The girl didn't know whether to scream in pain or
pleasure. Her senses had been so stimulated in such a contradictory manner
she lay gasping like a stranded fish, seeking to escape the thrusting of my
lingam and embrace it simultaneously. It was small wonder, then, that she
fainted clean away as her second climax wracked her tortured body. I pulled
myself from her arse and found myself still rampant. I grabbed one of the
teachers and, bending her backwards over the body of the insensible victim,
slammed into her wet yoni with all my vigour. She cried aloud her pleasure
as I hammered away for all I was worth, making her breasts bounce like
india-rubber balls. I reached forward and seized her nipples roughly,
holding onto them and tweaking them into hard peaks. Her legs wound around
my hips and she hauled me closer, yelling and panting and twitching her love
muscles as I thundered on.

She reached her crisis quickly and yelped and yipped with ecstasy. I shoved
her aside and seized another girl, ripping away her gossamer pyjamas before
throwing her face down on the floor and slamming my raging lingam into her
sopping yoni. I fear I was half mad with lust for, as soon as I had brought
her to fulfilment, I grabbed another. Cat snatched the girl away - it was
one of the virgins - to the girl's obvious disappointment, and substituted
herself. I laughed aloud at the expression of unadulterated hunger on Cat's
face and turned her arsy-tarsi, pumping a half dozen strokes into her yoni
and then switching to that other hole for the next half dozen then back
again, and so on. Cat had caught my mood for she slammed back at me and
rotated her arse like a whirling dervish and flexed her muscles in a
continuous rolling, rippling surge. I caught her by her long hair, pulling
her head back and sinking my teeth into the soft flesh of her neck. This
spurred her to greater efforts and she was physically lifting me off the
floor as she pounded back at me. I felt my climax soaring and pulled back,
spinning Cat around to thrust my pulsating member at her mouth. She didn't
bat an eyelid but engulfed it with warm and willing lips, flicking her
tongue in a frenzy across the underside as I shot my bolt, thrice, four and
even five times.

I emitted such an abundance of seed that even Cat was hard pressed to deal
with it, gulp as she might. A trail of milky seed dripped from the corner of
her mouth and down onto her breasts. The little Singhalese knelt and licked
the surplus from Cat's face and bosom while Cat purred deep in her throat
and sucked me dry. All around me was a scene of Sapphic celebration as the
remaining girls in two's and three's and numerous other combinations went to
it with a will. I stood on unsteady legs and surveyed the room. Was there
ever such an assembly of pulchritude and wantonness this side of heaven?

(Editor's note: The man is obviously lying in some particulars here. Hasn't
our own dear Queen pronounced that physical love between women is an
impossibility?)

December 1870

I dispatched my German friends to their surveying tasks. I had each of them
issued with a 'ghooley chit,' as they will be working up near the frontier.
They went quite pale when I explained its purpose. Some of the hill tribes
are quite partial to capturing interlopers, particularly Europeans, and
gelding them for the sheer fun of it. The ghooley chits are written in
Pathan, Urdu, Hindi and Gujurati and offer a reward of half a lakh of silver
rupees for the return of the bearer, shall we say, still bearing his stones.
I believe they were most grateful for my foresight; however, I did omit to
tell them that most of the tribesmen are completely illiterate. It is to be
hoped that they fall into the hands of one who has his letters, if
misfortune is to overtake them. I can't say I'm sorry to see them go. They
were not the best of company. Albrecht turned out to suffer from a Lutheran
disapproval of any kind of fun and the other three would drink too much beer
every evening and dissolve into bouts of maudlin singing about their 'heimat
' while dashing a manly tear from their piggy eyes. Still, they are good
engineers and I trust the survey and resultant maps will be worth the
enormous fees I'm paying them.

The only blight on my otherwise cloudless horizon is the behaviour of
Baljit. She has become very moody and sulks most of the time. She is still
meticulous about tasting my food but refuses any civil intercourse with me.
I have tried to tackle her about this reluctance at conversation but even
these essays on my part are returned only by black looks and pouting.
Ironically, she looks devilish pretty when she pouts. Remarkably, her dark
moods do not embrace her relations with Cat, with whom, after nearly two
years of coolness, she now appears close. For this, at least, I think I'm
grateful but Cat is such a minx, it is difficult to be sure.

Preparations are well underway for the 'Grand Defloration of the Fifteen
Virgins.' Although I have had one in the arse, they remain unsullied. The
teachers were very happy with their punishment day and say that the original
miscreant is now one of their most enthusiastic pupils. Apparently, the
spectacle I provided has induced suitable awe in the 'students' and the girl
who received the punishment is telling all who will listen that she was
transported to the very heights of ecstasy and can't wait to experience the
inevitable delights of my lingam in its more proper accommodation. I trust
she will not be disappointed when the time comes. I have been taking lessons
in Tantra from a travelling guru. The man is remarkable in the things he can
do with his lingam and he assures me that he can climax many times without
once spending his seed. All his talk of 'chakras' and spirituality seems to
me to be so much hokum but the programme of exercises he has given me seem
to make perfect sense. I doubt I will ever be able to perform his trick of
emptying a glass of water by dipping my lingam in it and ingesting the
contents but then again, I can't think of any sort of party where such a
stunt is likely to be well received by the hostess.


26th December 1870

Back home in England the tradesmen will be hounding their patrons for a
'Christmas Box' in recognition of their, usually, less than sterling service
throughout the preceding year. Here among the heathen, I am subject to no
such importunate behaviour, which is just as well, given the state I am in.
I will confide that I have just spent the most unusual festivities I believe
possible for the wit of man, or in my case, woman, to devise. Christmas Day
was the date selected for the great event. I rose early and broke my fast on
beefsteak, devilled kidneys, angels on horseback and kedgeree washed down
with a rather fine claret. I felt that I would have need of much stamina for
the forthcoming trial.

I spent the morning in leisurely preparations, took a long bath and had my
syce cut my hair and trim my side-whiskers. I then took a stroll in the
palace gardens and sat for a while in the pavilion overlooking the river. It
is one of my favourite places and I retire there whenever I feel the need
for solitude. I have now been the absolute ruler of this land for almost a
year and sometimes the responsibility weighs heavy upon me. It is not easy
to describe the feelings I have for these people. They are not my people by
birth, of course, but they are my subjects and I owe them my duty as they
owe me their allegiance. I cannot say that I love them but I have learned to
understand them. In the main, they are merry bunch and look for little from
life other than that which they can wrest with their own hands. Outside the
towns there is little squalor and, though Europeans may count it poverty,
their existence is well ordered with adequate food and shelter. Here in
Nambhupore, we have a wealthy class of merchants, a sizeable mass of sturdy
artisans and then we have the dregs - the kind of human flotsam that occurs
in any large city, except that, here, their plight is even more wretched.

I was thinking of these things and the intractable nature of the problem
when Cat came to find me and led me back to the palace. I left the
organisation of matters carnal to her entirely. She has a talent for the
erotic and I could tell by her secret smile that I was in for another rare
experience. If you have read this account thus far, you will have come to
understand the nature of my foremost concubine. She has no sense of shame
whatsoever but rather she revels in excess. This has struck a deep chord in
my own nature, which I was entirely unaware existed. However, unlike Cat, I
am still sometimes afflicted by feelings of guilt. It as if, to paraphrase
the Bard, the hot sun in the land of her birth drew all such humours from
her. We pale Europeans cannot hold a candle to her and her kind when it
comes to understanding the darker side of human nature; although, for her,
the pleasures of the flesh are never viewed remotely as being anything other
than entirely natural and enjoyable. They see no sin in the sexual act - any
sexual act! If it gives pleasure then that is sufficient justification. To
Cat's way of thinking, it is a man's duty to give pleasure to a woman and vi
ce versa. Such duty does not weigh upon me one iota in normal circumstances;
however, this time the situation was far from the usual.

Cat took to me the seraglio where all is in readiness. This was the first
intimation I had that the entire proceedings were to be witnessed by all the
girls of the harem. The room had been prepared with great care. There was an
odour of joss sticks and a faint reek of hashish - it appeared that some of
the girls had been indulging in that weed in preparation for the main event.
A large divan stood on a raised platform and there was faint tinkling of
that discordant music favoured in these parts. It was Cat's intention that I
should take each virgin in a different manner and she wrote down the names
of the new girls and placed the scraps of paper in one brass pot and the
names of a variety of sexual position in another. I was to draw one piece of
paper from each pot and then have at it with a will. The first name was
drawn - Meenah, the girl I previously had buggered so soundly and the
position chosen was 'The Congress of the Elephant.' There is a book listing
all of these variants and believe me when I tell you, some would challenge a
circus contortionist. I cannot for the life of me fathom the various names.
As far as I know, elephants simply climb aboard and go to it - they do not
need an instruction manual.

However, I was willing to go along with Cat but, at first, I was unable.
Whether or not this was caused by the presence of over fifty pairs of eyes
on me, all watching my performance or whether I was simply thinking too much
about it, my lingam was as limp as a dishrag. Cat growled something at
Meenah and the girl promptly dived down and drew my useless member into her
mouth. She had an inordinately long tongue for, as she sucked upon the
entire length of my none-too-co-operative lingam, she was able to slather my
stones at the same time. Impressive as this undoubtedly was, it did not have
the desired effect. I was simply too tense to perform. Fortunately, Cat
knows me very well now and she muttered a command to another girl who leapt
forward and eased me back onto the divan. She then squatted above me and
lowered her plump yoni over my lips. When all else fails, it may be
guaranteed that I will respond to the scent and taste of a ripe yoni, and so
it proved.

While I was thus occupied, Meenah took matters into her own hands, so to
speak. She grasped my member quite firmly and hurled herself onto it,
impaling her virginity with a massive downwards thrust of her hips. I felt a
monetary resistance but that was all. I could see nothing of her face, my
vision being restricted by two silken cuntlips and my attention held
entirely by this delightful sight, but if the noises she made were anything
to go by, she did not find the loss of her maidenhead any great
inconvenience. Meenah thrashed herself against me and I could feel the
forceful grinding of her nether parts against me. All the while, she gave
out a high, keening cry, not unlike the noise of a hunting falcon. The
little flower above me was gyrating her hips quite nicely by now and Meenah
plunged and reared on my lingam like one possessed. It was clear that her
'punishment' had not spoilt her appetite. I felt the muscles of her tight
yoni spasm as she reached her private peak and was quite prepared to go on
with the next one save the little minx had not yet had enough.

No sooner had she passed one crisis than another approached and she howled
like a mad wolf and pumped her thighs like pistons, rising up and thrusting
back down on my lingam at a fearful rate. She would have gone for 'thirds,'
too, had Cat not dragged off me by the hair. By now I was more than equal to
the task and I lifted my little helper off my face and spun her onto her
back. To Hell with Cat's grand design, I just needed to fuck! I positioned
myself at her glistening entrance and rammed into her. I saw her eyed widen
with the shock but then I was beyond caring. She was as wet as could be and
I was dimly conscious of the slurping and farting sounds emanating from our
hectic thrashing. A tear squeezed out from one eye as I thrust myself right
into her and mashed my body hard against her jewel. Her training had been
thorough and she pushed back at me and swivelled her hips to increase the
stimulation. My earlier ministrations had pushed to the brink, only
interrupted by the pain of her defloration. Now she gasped and moaned and
carried on and I felt her body tense as the delayed crisis hit her like a
shot from an elephant gun. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she lay
still.

I heaved myself upright and grabbed the next one. Cat wasn't happy that I
was spoiling her plan but the other girls were obviously enjoying the
spectacle. One little devil was frigging herself and thrusting her hips
towards me with a lascivious grin on her face. I decided that she would be
next and pushed her down onto the divan. I shoved her over onto her side and
seized up her leg so that I watch my lingam penetrate her. She had one of
those yonis with very pronounced inner petals and the sight of them
spreading around my plunging lingam was utterly intoxicating. There was
absolutely no resistance as I ploughed into her and the little so-and-so had
the nerve to grin. Here was one 'virgin' who needed no deflowering! I
watched in fascination at the way her lips seemed to clasp at me as I pulled
back and roll with me as I slid back in. I bade her continue frigging
herself and this was the final straw. I felt the lightening building in my
balls and shot a thundering load of seed deep within her. As I knelt there
panting and trying to control the spinning in my head, she brought herself
off with a shuddering sigh. I pulled my dripping lingam from her clenched
yoni and sat back with a satisfied grin like Mr Carol's Cheshire cat.

I definitely needed a breather by this point and sent out for refreshments
while two of the girls bathed my aching lingam. It was clear to me that if I
was going to perform my royal duty, I would need to practice some of those
Tantric arts as demonstrated by my friendly guru. The old charlatan set much
store by the way one breathes and I resolved to essay his disciplines in
this regard when the action resumed. Cat was hissing and spitting at me like
the animal for which I named her. I waved her off but then relented. I told
her that she might select the girls but that I would choose how to do 'em.
This left her little mollified so I promised her that I would take each in a
different fashion - but of my own devising. And so it proved to be. I cannot
claim to recall each individual that followed. I tried my Tantra tricks and
managed the full half dozen more before once again spending my seed. I can
tell you I was feeling mightily pleased with myself.

We had another break and this time, I took a short nap before resuming. Thus
restored, I resorted to my unfailing remedy for a flagging lingam and pushed
my face into a couple of sweet yonis before I was ready again to finish the
task. The aching of my thigh muscles was a perfect antidote to the arousal
afforded by so much succulent young flesh. I penetrated on. The girls'
reactions were all fairly similar. A tightening of the face or an indrawing
of the breath at the first encounter and then the training took over. Each,
obedient to that she had been taught, returned my pumping ardour with a
will - or so it seemed, at least. Truth to tell, I thought little of it. It
had the semblance of passion only. One cannot, in such circumstances, truly
give oneself up to the game. It was of the nature of a ritual and this is
how I viewed it - a pleasant interlude but a ritual just the same.

I reached the end at last - or, at least, I thought I had. Cat indicated one
final girl as I paused to take a long drink and splash some water on my face
to cool off a little. I thought nothing of it, I had not yet spent for a
third time and merely assumed that I had miscounted. The last girl was
crouched at the edge of the divan presenting her pert backside towards me. I
was instantly drawn to her yoni - it was perfect! The inner petals peeped
out between the rounded outer lips in perfect symmetry. They were neither
too long nor too short and free from any of the heavy wrinkles and creases
that one sometimes encounters. I knelt behind this prodigy and gently
separated the petals to view the jewel within. It was instantly clear to me
that this virgin was truly overawed by the experience - there was no sign of
the jewel hiding, as it was, deep within its hood. Also, there was no
telltale trace of moisture at her entrance. She shuddered at my touch.

I placed two fingers on the plump outer petals and pushed gently. I was
delighted to see that this had the predictable effect of exposing more of
those delicate inner lips to my gaze. Still pressing gently, I leant
forwards and drew one of those deliciously fragrant flaps into my mouth,
sucking upon it as gently as a newborn babe and lapping it my tongue. The
girl wriggled slightly in appreciation so I repeated the process with the
other side and then switched back and forth at will. After a few minutes of
such treatment, her little jewel overcame its former reticence and peeped
out from its hood as if viewing the world for the first time. Drawing upon
the lessons of my former Persian concubine, I made no direct contact but
instead, ran the tip of tongue along the sides and over the top of the hood.
She gasped and stiffened. I thought for a moment that she had reached her
peak and was somewhat surprised. Then I realised that it was just that her
senses were so heightened at this point that every touch rippled through her
with rising intensity.

I flicked my tongue into her - feeling that restricting web of maidenhood -
and she groaned aloud. I flickered it in and out of her like a serpent
tasting the air and she pushed back towards me to afford me greater access
to her sweet depths. I reached forward then with both hands and cupped her
firm breasts, gently teasing her nubbins into hard little pinnacles between
forefinger and thumb while all the while running my tongue and lips around
that perfect yoni. I then judged her ready for her initiation and rose
behind her. She knew instantly what was coming and lowered her head onto her
arms, raising her rump a little more in the process. The discovery of this
perfect little treasure at the last had truly enchanted me. I cannot else
explain why I chose, at this moment if no other, to be gentle.

I grasped my lingam and slowly stroked it between those perfect lips,
nudging its slick, swollen head against her jewel. Her hips began to
undulate very slightly in time with my sensual probing. With something
approaching ecstasy, I eased the tip of lingam into the very portal of
delight. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Cat watching me with an
inscrutable expression. The girl whimpered as I pushed forward slightly but
then, obviously remembering her training, thrust back at me. This time I
felt that little membrane tear and heard the hiss of indrawn breath as the
sharp pain took her. Then I was in. She opened like a flower. I reached
under her and gently strummed my fingers on her button. She rolled her hips
a little. I kept it slow, revelling in that tight, wet embrace. I glanced
down and watched my lingam appearing and disappearing by turns. Her inner
lips clasped me as I did so. They were darker than the rest of her and she
was one of the darker hued girls. Her inner petals were almost black.

I picked up the pace and she matched me, urging me onwards. The delight I
felt increased. Here was none of the artfulness that some of the girls
displayed, she was living the moment with me. I felt the roaring in my ears
and my legs felt weak. Her rump was bouncing now in time to my urgent
forays. A guttural moan escaped her. I strummed harder. We peaked at the
same instant. She thrashed and rolled as I yelled and pumped my scalding
seed deep within that ready vessel. I felt the tremors or her inner muscles;
saw her buttocks tighten and twitch before I collapsed on top of her. I
kissed her neck and buried my face in her hair. It was only when I had
recovered a trifle and could focus again that I saw a pair of large, brown,
adoring eyes gazing back at me with dreamy satisfaction. The last virgin was
Baljit.

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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