The Vizier had to be stopped.
No one knew where the man had acquired his snake-headed scepter – a wicked looking, ill-fated thing. But it was clear to all that it was the source of his new-found powers.
With it he had conjured spirits and fuddled minds throughout the kingdom. The Sultan was stuck abed, devoid of both wits and strength, and in a surprise move that shocked the lands – the grand council had ruled that the Vizier should assume control of the kingdom, despite Shaia’s obvious capacities.
Princess Shaia had assets, though.
She too had acquired an item of power. An amulet that shielded her from the Vizier’s tricks – enabling her to see through his spirits and left her clear headed even when all others around her fell under the Vizier’s sway. It had arrived mysteriously at her rooms, shortly after the Vizier had returned from the desert with his snake-headed-scepter. At first she had assumed it was just a pretty bauble from some admirer of her beauty, but as the Vizier began his climb to power, Shaia had teased out its true use – and sent a prayer of thanks to whoever had secreted her this powerful weapon.
She had another weapon, too. A secret ally. Issam, a handsome, strong, lean, clever commoner who lived in the town in the shadow of the palace – though truth be told, it might be that many days and nights could pass between him spending a night in his own bed.
But always the Vizier’s power was only growing. New taxes were levied, new powers were granted to him. The courtiers openly gaped at the obscene size of the Vizier’s harem. His conjured spirits roamed the castle, ever less subtle. More and more guards – real and phantasmal. The odds of success ever shrinking. So Shaia and Issam needed a plan, and it had to be fast.
The plan that Princess Shaia and Issam had settled on was to leverage the Vizier’s own vices against him. It was an open secret that the Vizier lusted after Shaia. Before he had acquired his serpent-staff, the Princess had often spotted him staring at her – and it was known that he had made a marriage offer to the Sultan. After his rise to power, his harem included many women who bore a striking resemblance to the Princess. It was even rumored that late at night, that the Vizier would use his dark powers to conjure spirits in Shaia’s form to share his bed.
And so, Shaia would grant him everything he could ever wish. She would offer herself to him, purse her pretty lips and bat her long eyelashes, and wriggle her hips and thrust out her breasts. She had seduced men before. It was easy for her – she was beautiful and lusty in a way that she had always found men were powerless to ignore. Her amulet would shield her if the Vizier tried to fuddle her wits or to assault her with phantasms.
Meanwhile, while the Vizier was thus engaged, Issam, who would previously have hidden himself somewhere in the Vizier’s chamber, carrying a long knife and a heart full of determination, would strike. He would knock the scepter away from the wicked man and then slit his throat. Simply done. Shaia would rise to power, pardon Issam, grand him a title and take him as a husband – or, at least, a consort.
Easy – Seduce, distract, incapacitate, assassinate.
Shaia deeply hoped that Issam would act swiftly, before she had to suffer the Vizier’s caresses – before he thought to move in for a kiss – both plotters agreed that the plan would certainly not need to last any longer than that – nor could it. The pair, after all, was deeply in love. Shaia could not bear to give herself to another man, no more than Issam could bear to watch it.
On the set-upon evening, Shaia took extra care while preparing her appearance. Darkening her eyes just so, and reddening her lips. Dressing in light and loose silks – many of which were completely sheer – offering even a casual observer tantalizing glimpses of the smooth skin underneath. And of course, her amulet, a beautiful thing, nestled in the swell of her breast.
She approached the Vizier’s chambers confidently. After all, she had no reason to be apprehensive. Her part was easy – the whole plan would prove to be simple to execute. Seduce, distract, incapacitate, assassinate.
Uncharacteristically, there were no guards at the doors to the Vizier’s chambers. So Shaia knocked boldly, instead of being announced.
The Vizier himself opened the door. His eyes glittered slightly at the sight of her – he did not seem surprised to see her. Out of the corner of her eye, Shaia saw a wisp of a phantasm being dismissed. She couldn’t help but think that it looked like a lithe, nubile woman. Shaia probably would have been inclined to scoff at the man’s randiness, but somehow scoffing at the Vizier didn’t seem right.
Instead, her eyes were drawn to those of the Vizier’s. Though he was certainly not a bad looking man, she had always thought of him as too old – with his greying hair, too severe – with his penchant for dark looks. But today he seemed younger. Maybe even quite a bit younger. And he stood taller and stronger than seemed exactly right. His eyes were piercing. Shaia ordinarily would have thought this strange, or even alarming – but tonight she did not. Instead, she mused idly that perhaps this would not be so unpleasant after all – it might be unexpectedly fun to do her flirtatious work.
Wordlessly, the Vizier inclined his head and stepped back to allow the Princess an entry. Shaia stepped boldly in. She allowed herself a brief glance around the room, to try to spot where Issam would likely have hidden himself. She didn’t see him, but she was captivated to see a strange blur in the corner. One of the Vizier’s illusions or spirits? Before, she had always been able to see clearly through them. Perhaps this one was different?
Her heart began to beat faster. What if the Vizier was growing in power? What if he could conjure more powerful spells that would overwhelm her amulet? They hadn’t considered that possibility – Shaia and Issam had assumed her amulet to be all-powerful. That mysterious blur seemed to hint at unexpected complications in the plan.
She tore her eyes away from the strange smudge in her vision. She didn’t want to give the Vizier any sign that something was amiss.
He was looking at her serenely, smugly even.
“Good evening, Princess. I’ve been hoping you would stop by.”
Shaia was pleased to hear that. She thought she heard the lust in the man’s voice, and it was nice to be desired, even by an enemy you’d sworn to kill. She ran her eyes up and down him, taking notice of his broad shoulders, broader than she thought they had been, and the heavy bulge in his pants. A handsome, desirable enemy, she mused again.
Her heart beat a little faster.
The room was silent. Shaia realized that she should say something. She realized that she was staring. She realized that her mouth was slightly agape.
“Good evening, My Lord … ”
She struggled to finish the sentence. Shaia was surprised at how foggy she felt. It had been years since she had been tongue-tied in front of a man.
“I … I am glad you are free to see me.”
Shaia resisted the urge to shake her head, to clear her thoughts. Remember the plan, seduce him, distract him. She stood up a little taller and thrust out her chest. She raised her chin slightly, to show off her face to greatest effect, and she rested a hand casually on the flare of her hip. At least, she hoped it was casual. She pointedly didn’t look at the serpent-headed scepter that the Vizier was holding lazily in his hand.
The Vizier took a step closer.
Shaia thought of Issam, hidden away somewhere in this room. Watching her and the Vizier. She guiltily thought of her fluttering heart and hoped that Issam could not tell how she felt. She carefully reassured herself that she would not be cheating on Issam. Things would not progress that far, and anyway, this was his plan, too. After tonight he would be a King. Or, at least, a consort to a Queen.
Shaia noticed how close the handsome Vizier was, and felt a blush spread across her face and ears.
“Tell me, young princess, why did you seek me out tonight? So late?”
Shaia felt the blush spread down her neck and chest. She felt her silks brush softly against her skin, every time she shifted her weight.
“My Lord…” she stammered again, staring once more into the Vizier’s eyes.
“Ah, and I see you are wearing the amulet that I gifted you! Isn’t it lovely?”
Shaia’s heart went from a delicate flutter to a hard stop.
“W-What do you mean? This amulet was delivered to my rooms…”
The Vizier merely smiled and leaned forward. His large, strong hands brushed over her shoulders, his thumb ran over her delicate neck, as he reached around her to unfasten the cord.
“Well, yes. By me, of course. But I see that it has worn out, I think I will take it back. It is of no more use to us, is it.”
Shaia’s eyes grew wide but found that she couldn’t quite bring herself to pull away from this half-embrace.
From the corner – from the blur, in fact- Shaia vaguely heard a muffled noise. It could have been a cry in anguish, or a clattering of chains. Or both.
She didn’t dare look. She didn’t know what she would see, but somewhere deep down, she knew it wouldn’t be good. This wasn’t going right, and the blur was the worst part.
The amulet dropped to the floor.
Shaia spared one last glance at the Vizier’s staff. The snake’s eyes were glowing a maleficent red.
She looked back into the Vizier’s eyes, and her head swam. Her lips tingled. Every fiber of her being strained towards the man. This great, solid pillar of masculinity. She tried to think of Issam, and couldn’t quite conjure his image.
She tried to remember the plan, but the details, scant though they were, escaped her. She knew there was a stopping point, but it was forgotten.
Seduce …? That much at least felt right.
She stepped in close to the Vizier, hesitantly wrapping her hands around his neck, grazing her fingers through his hair, drawing his lips towards her own. She relished the taste of him, she breathed in the smells. She ran a palm over the the smooth expanse of jawline. When had this old man’s face become so impressive?
She felt the strong arms wrap around her. She felt the strong hands shift up the small of her back, under the gauzy layers of fine silk.
She tried to remember how the other man had made her feel. She couldn’t remember his name. He must not be that important.
She sighed, “My Lord”.
The sound from the corner returned – louder this time.
Shaia glanced over towards the blur again, but the blur was gone. In it’s place was a young man. Tall and lean and maybe handsome, in a coarse, common way. He looked distraught. He was shackled in heavy chains and strained against them. The young man was stripped to the waist, but she was not moved by the sight. She noticed that his cock was engorged, straining against his pants, but she was not moved by that, either.
Her eyes flickered back to the Vizier and then fluttered shut, as his lips drifted down to her neck.
The commoner saw Shaia look at him, and he saw the absence of affection in her eyes – the absence of recognition, even. He wailed.
The Princess felt the Vizier guide her toward his expansive bed. She allowed herself to be led, happily. She was unconcerned about the man in the corner. Her heart pounded inside her head. She felt like she was floating in a dream.
“I see you notice our friend in the corner. My sentries caught him trying to sneak in here with a knife! I wonder what he aimed to do with it…”
The Vizier’s hands moved again, and Shaia squirmed under the affections. Straining to press every inch of her against him. She felt the hardness between his legs and ran a hand down to caress him. The Vizier shifted, and Shaia’s dress slipped down one shoulder.
“Still, I can be a merciful man, and he did not manage any harm. There is no reason that he can’t have his fun while we’re having ours -unless you object, Princess?”
Shaia blinked blankly at the Vizier – giving no sign of even understanding the situation – clearly past the point of being able to object to anything. Instead of answering, she sank slowly to her knees and began to fiddle with the Vizier’s pants.
The Vizier lazily waved his scepter in the direction of Issam, and a phantasmal woman appeared next to him, beautiful and seductive and barely clothed. She began to drape herself over the bound man. The Vizier paused, considered, and repeated the motion. Another woman appeared, identical to the first, and also began to caress him.
Issam struggled against the chains and recoiled from the women, but there was no escape.
The Vizier smiled an unkind smile and waved the scepter a third time, almost as an afterthought. Another new woman appeared – still beautiful, but unique from the previous two. She draped herself behind the first woman, running her hands over whatever flesh she could reach.
The man clattered the chains and strained and struggled and howled. Shaia thought he must be screaming words, but she couldn’t understand them.
“Master, why does he resist your gifts?” she asked, but the Vizier did not answer.
He grinned as felt his pants drop to the floor. He turned back to the Princess, on her knees as she brought his cock to her mouth. She delicately ran her fingers along he shaft. Gently, she allowed her lips and her tongue to caress the tip. She took more of him in and moaned in pleasure – as though she was getting more from the act than he was.
Her free hand worked its way down her stomach, and past the waistline of her pants. Her fingers caressed her womanhood, her wetness and her clit and the response was explosive. It was only a few instants between when she began to touch herself and when she felt an orgasm spread through her body. She struggled to hold her lips to the Vizier’s cock through the duration of her spasms.
Behind them, against the wall, Issam was being played with by the phantasmal girls. One was pressed up against him, kissing his neck and running her hands over his chest, while another was on her knees sucking on him. The third was kissing the first’s neck and running her hands across her body and under her clothes. But Issam continued to struggle. His eyes locked on to Shaia and the Vizier, filled with terror and hate and disgust.
As Shaia caught her breath, the Vizier put a hand on her chin and lifted gently up. Going with the pressure, she stood. They kissed, again, and the Vizier began to slowly undress the girl. First pushing the gauzy silk down past her shoulders, pausing to run his hands over her smooth, pert breasts. The Princess let her head rock back and she shivered. She was pulled her in closer, he ground his cock against her and she squirmed against him. She delighted as he hooked his fingers into the waistline of her pants and pushed them to the ground.
As the Vizier pushed the naked girl down onto his bed, and stripped of his remaining clothes, he glanced over his shoulder at his other prisoner.
Issam’s eyes were closed now, and his breath was ragged. The two identical phantasms were now pinned against each other, rolling on the thickly carpeted floor, kissing frantically and scrambling at clothes. The third, having Issam to herself, had his cock pinned between her ample breasts, carefully bouncing up and down. Issam’s eyes flickered open – they were not locked on the Vizier and Shaia anymore – roaming from person to person instead. And they were not filled so much with terror and hate and disgust, now – the Vizier thought he saw sadness, and maybe a hint of lust.
Shaia was oblivious to the carnival of wantonness happening in the corner. Her eyes never left the Vizier. She felt as though she belonged to him and him alone. Satisfying her master would be pleasure enough.
She felt the Vizier’s hands on her, again, and her eyes drifted shut. She focused on the sensations, and on being responsive to every input. She found herself repositioned, face down on the bed, facing Issam and the phantasms. And then she felt something long and thick and hard and hot slip into her. She sighed expansively.
“Oh. Yes. I’ve never felt anything like this before”
She felt the strong hands on her hips and she bucked in motion with them, meeting each thrust from behind with delight.
“Open your eyes, Princess.”
Shaia didn’t want to open her eyes, but she found that she had no choice. Though she couldn’t explain why, the sight of the common man being aroused by the phantasm made her uncomfortable. There was something, deep down inside her, that told her it was wrong – that it was bad. Her eyes drifted to the two women frolicking on the ground – she liked that more. They looked soft and smooth and warm.
“Watch what happens, young Princess, when my servants free that common man. The one who intended to kill me.”
As the Vizier uttered these words, the phantasmal women disentangled from their passions and began to unchain Issam.
The Vizier continued to thrust into Shaia, and Shaia began to moan.
The links of chain clattered to the ground, and Issam was free. He paused for a moment to rub his wrists, where the shackles had bit deeply. Then he looked around for a moment – Shaia thought he looked like he was trying to decide what to do – he looked at the Vizier, he looked at the princess, he looked at the phantasms and at the door. And then, with a shrug, he fell on the phantasmal girls, groping and kissing – hungry to find a warm, wet place to bury his cock. Two of the girls hurled themselves eagerly towards the man.
Against her will, Shaia grew even warmer.
The third came over towards the Vizier and the Princess. Her hips sashayed, her breasts bounced.
Shaia grew warmer still.
The Vizier paused long enough to flip the Princess onto her back, as the phantasm crawled across the bed to them. Across the room was a cacophony of grunts and moaning and panting.
The phantasm, one of the twins, lay down next to Shaia, almost demurely. She reached a delicate hand out and caressed the Princess’ face. She drew her in for a kiss. And the Vizier thrust himself back inside her. His motions were even stronger and faster now, growing frantic. The girls kissed more urgently. Their hands drifted across each other.
Shaia felt another orgasm blossoming and her mouth went wide. Her entire body seemed to flex. She gasped for air as the electricity ran through her. She screamed in pleasure. Moments later, the Vizier groaned and shuddered and with a few last, mighty thrusts, finished as well.
And then Shaia’s eyes closed slowly. They flickered back open briefly, and then closed again. Just as Shaia gave in to sleep, the felt strong arms lift her up and carry her away.
She slept deeply and peacefully. Untroubled by dreams or restlessness.
When the morning dawned clear and bright, Shaia found that she could recall each detail of the events of the night much more sharply than when she had been living through them. She looked out the window. The city stretched out far below her, sharply illuminated by the harsh sunlight.
It was hard not to be upset with herself for her wanton performance, and for the abject failure of her plan – though it was clear now that she was doomed from the start. She ached inside and out. She pined for Issam and hoped that he was still well – she hoped that he would forgive her.
And Shaia knew, now, that she would never be Queen – Consort, maybe. She would never again wield any power. Only the Master held power here. But, she thought, if she was careful – she might still live a comfortable life, maybe even a pleasurable one.