Confessions of a Sheba Queen

by Autumn Bardot

  “Oh, I’ve thought a lot about moving to Ma-īn or Shabwa or Barāqish; however, my reputation, my good name, is here. It would take years, perhaps a generation, to establish a business elsewhere…and to establish my reputation with the women.” He winked at me.

  Duvsha groaned, but I smiled. What would it be like to fuck a ladies’ man? Were they all bluster, or did they truly possess the sexual prowess to satisfy?

  “I don’t understand why someone doesn’t overthrow King Hasan,” I said.

  Kepha tilted back his head and let loose a loud ululation, a howling tongue trill.

  Duvsha smacked his shoulder.

  “Did they come? My army? Did they hear my battle call?” Kepha laughed. “Guess not. I wonder why?” He scratched his head.

  “Father,” said Duvsha. “Be nice.”

  Kepha was poking fun at me, but I didn’t mind. He was right.

  “Of course,” said Kepha, giving me a compassionate look, “sometimes, like with your mother, an assassin or two might do the trick. But what then? Let’s say someone does manage to kill Hasan, who will rule? I’m a bead maker, not a noble. No,” he said, shaking his head. “If someone were to kill him, one of his greedy ministers would take his place.” Kepha rose from the table. “King Hasan is not the first wicked tyrant and he won’t be the last.”

  “You said he’s your age, Kepha,” I said, my voice rising. “He could live for another sixty years! And if he’s wicked now, he’ll just get worse. Tyrants with unchecked power grow stronger and more deviant during their reign, one of my tutors told me that. The kingdom of Saba is in terrible danger!”

  Father and daughter stood agape, staring at me like I was crazy, like one of those naked madmen who roamed the desert claiming a demon lived beneath their skin.

  They did not understand. I did not fault them. They had never flown over the land of Saba with a jinni and seen the connectedness of a land. How widyan and roads and villages and footpaths linked us all together.

  Had Momma flown me to other kingdoms, I was certain I would have seen their connection to Saba as well. And had she flown me around the world, I might have marveled at how we all shared the same seas and sky.

  A warm wind blew through the open door and swirled around me. It was gone in an instant, yet it opened my mind.

  This was what the Wise Woman had prophesied at my birth. This was why Momma showed me the wonders of Saba from the sky and paid for tutors.

  This was my Great Destiny.

  CHAPTER 16

  Kepha and Duvsha shifted uneasily.

  After a few awkward moments, Duvsha gathered the empty bowls. “You’re very passionate about justice.”

  Kepha looked at me with new eyes. “Where did you say you were from again?”

  “A small village several days from here.”

  “Did you walk?” he asked, a single vertical crease deepening between his brows.

  “I have a camel. I suppose I should sell her.”

  “You plan on staying in Ma’rib?” Kepha rubbed his wide square jaw.

  “There is nothing left for me at home.” I brushed the crumbs from the table. “Duvsha, after we wash the bowls can you show me where to bathe? And then, with Kepha’s permission, show me where the palace is?”

  “I’ll take you,” said Kepha, his concerned crease smoothed over. “Best take off those rubies before we go.”

  After washing the dust from my body and hair, and borrowing one of Duvsha’s dresses, I appeared groomed and fresh in front of Kepha, who was stringing small carnelian stones onto a bracelet-sized bit of twine.

  “You’re stunning.” Kepha stood, the bracelet slipping from his fingers. “Breathtakingly beautiful.” He rounded the table. “Forgive me, you must hear that all the time.”

  “Beauty fades and deceives.” I pressed my hand to my heart. “It’s inner beauty that’s important.”

  Kepha led the way out the door. “Men don’t go much for fucking inner beauty.”

  His exaggerated leer made me laugh.

  “Anyway,” he tapped his chin, “I wasn’t only referring to your face and body. There’s something about you . . . it’s a bit disconcerting and yet quite comforting at the same time.”

  “You make it sound as though I’m a riddle to be solved.”

  “You are a riddle, Bilqīs. It’s disconcerting because I can’t figure out what it is that makes you so irresistibly appealing.” Kepha cocked his head and held out his hands. “You walk into the room and suddenly everything is brighter and more alive. It makes me want to please you, to bask in your smile.” Kepha looked down at his kilt. “And that’s not my cock talking.”

  “Are you sure?” I laughed, enjoying the seduction.

  “It’s more than sexual desire. I can’t quite explain it.” Kepha was serious. “Duvsha also felt this desire to please you. Very odd. She’s never brought a stranger home before. That in itself is strange.”

  I didn’t know what to make of his confession. It unsettled me. “I am humbled by Duvsha’s trust and your belief in my charm.”

  Kepha jabbed his finger in the air. “That! Yes, just what you said. A mere country girl does not speak like that. Those are the words of a diplomat. And I haven’t heard you giggle. Not once.”

  “Maybe I’ll giggle tonight.”

  Kepha chuckled. “I’d rather hear you moan with pleasure.”

  Two cocks. Yes, I certainly would.

  We passed many people as we strolled down the street, most calling a hearty greeting to Kepha as we passed.

  “There’s the palace.” Kepha pointed to a building towering over the others.

  The stone palace was four stories tall, with real windows, not the wedge-shaped niches built into most homes.

  “It’s magnificent,” I gushed, amazed by the leaf patterns carved into its nine limestone pillars and the two larger-than-life bronze statues of rearing lions pawing the air at the main door’s entrance.

  “Too bad there is so much ugly inside.” Kepha stopped walking and leaned against the wall of a pub. “Don’t get too close, the guards get testy. I don’t want a sword tip pointed at my stomach today.”

  From my vantage point across the pavilion, I was able to read most of the inscriptions on the palace walls, as well as marvel at the beauty of the intricate friezes depicting ibex, bulls, and griffins.

  I turned to Kepha. “Have you ever been inside?”

  “No. And I don’t plan to. Some petitioners never come out. Others come out without a hand . . . or a wife or a daughter.”

  The beer vendor came through the doorway of the pub and set out a folding table and two folding chairs. “If you want to enjoy the view, you need to buy my beer.”

  Moments later, Kepha and I were sipping on a tasty brew while I studied the palace. It entranced me. Not just its splendor, but what it represented. Or should have represented. Instead of justice and hope and valor, the walls stunk of tyranny and hopelessness and fear.

  “What are you thinking about?” asked Kepha.

  “The evil inside.”

  Moments later, a group of ten well-dressed men wearing wide gold necklaces, armbands, earrings, and rings walked past and into the pavilion adjacent to the palace. Their attendants held colorful canopies over their heads.

  “Who are they?” I asked.

  “Ministers. Advisors. Men who stoop and flatter and agree to everything the king says.” Kepha peered over his clay cup. “They must be returning from the dam. I heard King Hasan sent his men to examine claims it needed more repair.”

  With their noses in the air, the haughty group strode up to the gate, passing through without breaking their stride. Without so much as uttering a word to the guards. Upon reaching the tall red doors, two more guards threw them wide open.

  “Do these men ever talk to the townspeople?”

  “King Hasan forbids them from discussing anything political. But I should imagine they talk amongst themselves…unless of course they don’t trust one another.
”

  I finished my beer and stood. “I’ve seen enough.”

  Kepha squinted up at me. “Enough of what?”

  Of King Hasan’s sour-faced guards, his imposing red door barring his people, of his arrogant ministers. “His tyranny.”

  I needed a plan to gain entrance. Climbing the wall was not an option. I had no army. I did not have a jinni’s speed or strength. I had only my wits and womanly wiles. I had no choice but to go through the front door in full view of every guard. All I needed was a good reason to enter.

  “You’re very quiet when you think. Still as a statue.” Kepha rose from the table. “Your eyes are open but do not see. Unless they see the unseen.”

  “You like to speak in riddles, don’t you?” I walked beside him.

  “Not usually, but I think you see things from a different perspective than the rest of us. It’s part of your charm.”

  “You don’t have to flatter me. I want to fuck you. I’ve never had an older man.”

  Kepha snorted. “Older? I’m only thirty-two years. Young enough to teach you a few tricks.”

  “Like using a stone phallus?” I grinned, then gestured to the small camel caravan making its way down the street. “Are those Nubian traders?”

  “Looks like it. They bring the best onyx, ivory, tortoiseshell, and rhinoceros horns from all over Egypt.”

  “Don’t forget cloth, saffron, and wine.”

  Kepha’s brows lifted. “You studied trade routes?”

  “Among other things.”

  “Did this study include information about men who sell a rare cloth made from caterpillar cocoons?”

  “You’re joking.”

  “It’s true. King Hasan feared the foreign trader was a demon and had him killed. Such a pity, the man claimed to come from the end of the world.”

  “Duvsha said King Hasan is also afraid of jinn.”

  “Deathly afraid. He sent assassins to hunt and kill every one in Saba.”

  “How do these assassins know who is a jinni?”

  “The Oracle tells the king and the king tells the assassins.” Kepha shrugged. “At least that’s the gossip.”

  Five assassins. One king. One Oracle. My revenge list got longer.

  Kepha stooped under his doorway and sat heavily on the stool at his worktable. “Back to work.”

  I poked my head into the back room. “Duvsha’s gone.”

  A slow smile spread across Kepha’s face. “How convenient.” He pulled open his kilt. Kepha’s cock stretched toward me, eager and ready.

  “Come cum with me.” He grabbed my hand and together we raced up the steps to the second story.

  “What about your customers?” I asked, laughing at his bad joke.

  “I don’t want to fuck them—well not most of them.”

  I laughed again. Fucking Kepha should be fun.

  “This way.” Kepha took me to the home’s third level, and we passed through a small bedroom, and into a larger one covered wall to wall in thick rugs.

  He lit several braziers and the room glowed, the vibrancy of the pillows and blankets and rugs like a cocoon of color.

  “More art.” I pointed to the life-size wall painting of a man fucking a woman from behind, one hand holding her rounded ass, the other pulling her long hair like a rein. Her head was thrown back, face to the heavens, her exaggerated orgasmic expression matching the man’s. The woman’s breasts were oversized; the nipples long and pointed. The man’s cock was larger than life as well. My cunt pulsed just looking at the painting. I reached out and touched the painted phallus.

  Kepha, standing behind me, wrapped his arms around my belly and nuzzled my neck. “Like it?”

  “Yes,” I whispered. “Very much.” All one needed was a stone phallus and this painting for quick relief.

  “If a woman is offended by this painting, I don’t pursue her further. But if she likes it,” Kepha’s hands slid upward to grab my breasts, “I know she’ll be a good fuck.”

  I moved my ass into him, felt his hard cock pushing against me.

  Kepha flung off his kilt. I pulled off my tunic, cast it aside, and pressed my back to the muraled wall. I lifted my arms over my head and thrust out one hip. “Well? Do you like?”

  “You’re hairless.” Kepha swallowed. “I adore.”

  I wiggled my breasts. “Show me.”

  Kepha wagged his finger. “Jewels first.” He crossed the room and rummaged through a basket. “Mmmm . . . these should do.” He pulled out a strand of garnets.

  I moved toward him as he pulled out yet another strand. Kepha draped both over me, his fingers whisking across my skin. Not touching my breasts, despite my thrusting them out. He hung another and another, each strand longer than the last.

  “You’re a goddess.” Kepha sat down and gazed up at me with a kind of reverence. “My goddess.” He bent over, pressed his forehead to the rug. “I worship you.”

  “Arise, servant.” I enjoyed the playacting.

  Kepha tilted his head. “If I arise any more I’ll be able to suck my own cock.” He tongued the top of my foot. He next worshipped my ankle before moving to the other foot, which received the same lavish attention.

  He venerated my shins, knees, thighs, inching toward my altar. He got on his knees, his face inches from my cunt.

  “Goddess, I submit,” he murmured, and he nuzzled his nose into my fleshly pillow.

  I clutched his hair as he sacrificed his tongue to my swollen clit. Kepha had skills! More than Ekene. “You pay homage well.”

  “You taste like sunshine and flowers and fruit and…” His eyes glazed with adoration.

  “And what?” I tugged on his hair.

  “Heaven.” Kepha pulled away and lay flat on his back, his cock pointing to the ceiling. “Sit on my face. I want your cunt to suffocate me.”

  I straddled him, spreading myself as I lowered.

  “Blessed Almaqah, your cunt is a feast,” he moaned. He grabbed my ass and pulled me down hard.

  I leaned forward and took his cock in my mouth. “Can you breathe?” I asked between sucks.

  He muzzled deeper, sucking on my clit with such a rhythmic skill that all rational thought left me, replaced by the tugging climb to nirvana. I sucked his cock to his rhythm. Our rhythm.

  And then I felt it.

  Kepha slid a long stone phallus into my slick altar of joy. With a flesh cock in my mouth and stone cock in my cunt, I was lost to pleasure, waves rushing over me, lifting me higher.

  And then I felt something else. A pushing pushing pushing into my pink pucker.

  I pushed back and the stone slicked inside. Kepha fucked me with two stones as I sucked on his cock. I exploded, bucked wildly, screaming my joy into his crotch.

  He came in my face, his creamy cum squirting on my cheeks and lips. I was ravenous, my body demanding more.

  I came again. And again. Three cocks. Three separate sensations—cunt, sphincter, and mouth—three gateways leading to bliss beyond compare.

  CHAPTER 17

  “Bilqīs.” Kepha kissed my stomach. “Marry me.”

  I laughed. Men always thought with their cocks.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” he said.

  “Kepha, it was fun, but I’m not ready to marry.” I had a Great Destiny.

  “Fun leads to love.” He waggled the stone cock at me. “Admit it, you need me.”

  “You don’t know me, how can you know what I need?” I needed to avenge Momma’s death. I needed to rid the kingdom of a tyrant.

  I stood, my thighs sticky with his seed after our second round of fun. I did not need a baby. “I’m going to help Duvsha.”

  “You blow hot and cold, Bilqīs.” Kepha wrapped his kilt tight. “And I’m not talking about your blow jobs. We were as intimate as two people can be moments ago and now . . .” He snapped his fingers. “Gone. Your emotions sealed up like a tomb.”

  A tomb . . . I had not buried Momma properly. Regret draped like a heavy wool blanket over my shou
lders. “I came to Ma’rib for a reason. I will not stray from my purpose.” I left the room, invigorated by the powerful orgasms. They gave me more energy than chewing the reddish-brown berries that grew on the hillside near my home.

  “What is your purpose?” Kepha trailed after me.

  I skipped down the second-story steps and rounded the corner. “I want to look into King Hasan’s eyes and ask him if he sent men to kill my mother.”

  “You’ll never get into the palace.”

  “Father,” said Duvsha the moment she saw us. “You did not show Bilqīs that lewd painting, did you?” She placed the stone orb in her hand into the proper square.

  “You know me too well, daughter,” said Kepha, disappearing into his workroom.

  “I’m sorry, Bilqīs. Father is . . . well . . .” she shuddered. “You know.”

  “I know.” The man had the sex drive of a bull in heat. I rather liked him. I picked up my coin purse that I had left in the corner.

  “I looked.”

  “What?”

  Duvsha pointed to the leather purse I hung around my neck. “You have quite a bit of money.” Her face flushed bright red. “I didn’t take any. You can count it.”

  “I trust you.” I really did. “I have a few things to take care of. I want to check on my camel and I need to find an herbalist.”

  “Are you thinking of poisoning the king?”

  “That’s a good idea. Too bad I won’t be able to get anywhere near his food.”

  “The herbalist’s shop is at the end of the street.” Duvsha pushed out her bottom lip and sighed. “I’d go with you but I have to get this done today.”

  I rattled the coin purse. “Do you need anything?”

  “Yes, a handsome husband.” Duvsha snorted with laughter.

  I laughed and jingled the coins again. “I don’t know if I have enough for that.”

  I said good-bye with a smile on my face and a heart full of thanks for the good fortune of meeting such wonderful people.

  My first stop was the camel yard. After paying the man for another day, I approached the old cow.

  “I should sell you.” I stroked her neck.

  Shaking her head, the camel let loose a long throaty growl of displeasure.