Tales of the Thasali Harem Box Set

by Danielle Summers

  “I’m sorry.” It looked like Rouden had more to say, but didn’t know how to say it, at least not yet. Amyar put his hand on Rouden’s thigh.

  “Apology accepted.” He searched Rouden’s eyes and saw love. “What do we do now?”

  “If you go back to Resedna, I can’t go with you.”

  Amyar knew that it wasn’t exactly true that Rouden couldn’t go back with him. He wouldn’t go back with him. The prince knew how difficult palace life would be for Rouden. Amyar’s other family members would probably resist welcoming him. The help he gave to Amyar might mean something to his mother, but it wouldn’t change her overall attitude. She was Thasali through and through. Amyar knew she would never think of Rouden as anything other than a harem boy from a Thasali province.

  Amyar would have to say goodbye to the palace, perhaps forever.

  “I won’t go back without you. Can we stay in Tanshar?”

  “After what has happened, I have no life here. We must leave.”

  Amyar cupped Rouden’s face in his hands. He felt stubble. He smelled sweat. He looked into the eyes of the man he loved and really saw him. He saw sadness at the loss they were both about to experience and joy for a future that would be theirs to enjoy together.

  He pulled Rouden’s face to his. He kissed him. At that moment, Amyar was neither prince nor hostage. He was not trying to stop a rebellion or a coup. He was just a man in love with another man who would be neither his harem boy nor his consort. They would be together as equals.

  “Let’s go talk to the Matriarch,” said Amyar as he pulled away from Rouden.

  Rouden nodded and grabbed Amyar’s hand.

  As they walked through the walls of the compound, soldiers bowed. They found the Matriarch directing Oshone to identify all of Timendum, Eppon, and Totven’s associates. All would be interrogated. Some would not survive.

  “Mother,” said Amyar. She turned to him and smiled.

  The air was filled with the scent of jusobo flowers. The hallway fell quiet as Amyar wrapped his arms around his mother. His family was not affectionate, but he wasn’t sure when he would see his mother again. She pulled away from his embrace and smoothed her blouse.

  “Son, what have you decided?”

  Amyar’s mouth went dry, but he knew he would have to speak words that he would not be able to take back.

  “We are going to be together but not in Resedna nor Tanshar. We will find someplace else to call home.”

  “You will miss the Feast of Angry Angels concert,” she responded. Her assistant handed her a glass of water and informed her that she needed to be on the hoverskip soon.

  “I know,” said Amyar.

  “You and your harem boy will be welcome back any time.”

  Amyar felt Rouden tighten his grip.

  “His name is Rouden.” Amyar turned from his mother and started walking to the room he had stayed in his first night in Tanshar.

  When they got to the room, his stuff was still there untouched. He wasn’t even sure how much of it he still wanted. He was going to a new life, one full of unpredictability and choices. He looked once more into Rouden’s eyes.

  “Lamasket,” said Rouden. This was one of the more intimate sexual acts between men, and it was time.

  “Lamasket,” responded Amyar.

  They quickly dropped their clothes to the floor and fell into the bed naked. Amyar got on top and kissed Rouden. His lips felt so good against his. Rouden’s lips parted. Their tongues touched with passion and fire.

  Amyar ran his hands down Rouden’s body. His skin was tight and soft. There was a small scar at his hip. Amyar imagined he’d gotten it in some battle. He covered Rouden with kisses. He started at the nape of his neck. He paused between his pecs. Rouden’s nipples were erect, and Amyar could feel the Tansharian’s cock growing beneath him. It had been a long time since he had been penetrated and never by someone who wasn’t required to please him. All they had was love.

  Amyar ran his tongue around Rouden’s light brown nipples. Rouden’s chest was beautiful, defined, and hairless. Rouden cooed in ecstasy. Amyar landed more kisses on Rouden’s chest and ran his fingers down his lover’s arm, pausing at the harem tattoo.

  “What do you want to do about this?”

  “I want it gone,” said Rouden. “The harem will always be a part of me, but I want its mark gone from my body.”

  “We will take care of that tomorrow,” said Amyar. He grabbed the bottle of elodie oil and held it in front of Rouden. “Now, there is this. I want you. I want you inside me, totally and completely.”

  Rouden smiled the biggest smile Amyar had ever seen and took the elodie oil.

  “But first, I take care of you,” said Amyar. “I’ll get you ready.”

  He returned his attention to Rouden’s chest and dotted the line down the center of his body with kisses. He ran his tongue down between his pecs and through his abdominals. His body was lean and defined. Amyar nuzzled his nose in Rouden’s pubic hair. The brown curls tickled. He inhaled Rouden’s scent. He didn’t smell of perfume. He was not delicate. He smelled rich, like a strong man. He was exactly what Amyar wanted.

  Rouden had a beautiful cock that curved slightly to the left. Amyar kissed the tip. It was almost fully hard. He ran his finger along the shaft. His tongue followed his finger. Then, he took all of Rouden’s cock in his mouth. Amyar felt Rouden’s cock harden between his lips, but he didn’t want him to come yet.

  Amyar pulled away from Rouden’s delicious cock. His eyes met Rouden’s. They both knew what to do. Amyar pulled his feet underneath him and crouched over Rouden’s cock. Rouden opened the elodie oil canister. Its sweet scent, combined with Rouden’s manly musk, flooded Amyar’s senses. He was in heaven. Rouden scooped up a palmful of elodie oil and covered his cock in it. He signaled Amyar to move forward until he was straddling Rouden’s mid-section and Rouden was able to reach Amyar’s asshole with his very wet finger. He circled Amyar’s hole, just barely brushing the skin.

  Rouden may not have been a harem boy any more, but he clearly remembered what he had been taught.

  The finger’s pressure went from light to firm. It continued to circle his hole. Then it was gently pushing into him. Amyar let out a gasp.

  “Do you want my cock?” asked Rouden.

  “Oh yes!” Amyar whispered. All he could focus on was that lubed finger and how good it was making him feel. The finger was in and slowly pushing against the walls of his sphincter. Rouden was stretching him, and Amyar was so grateful.

  Rouden pulled out and relubed his finger. The finger entered Amyar’s hole once more. A second finger tickled his rim.

  “I’m ready,” said Amyar. “So ready.”

  Amyar pulled himself away from Rouden’s finger and lowered himself on Rouden’s hard cock. He exhaled deeply as it entered him fully. He’d been waiting for this for so long. He looked at the ecstasy on Rouden’s face. His back was slightly arched. His head was back. His brown hair was splayed out on the pillow. He yelled out Amyar’s name. He didn’t call him “prince” or “highness.” Amyar never wanted to be called those words again.

  Amyar rode Rouden’s cock up and down until they were both so close to coming. The air was filled with their grunts and moans. Amyar lowered his face to Rouden’s for a quick wet kiss. He knew he would be with this handsome man forever.

  And then they were ready to come.

  Rouden came first, shooting his load in Amyar’s ass.

  “I feel you,” yelled Amyar. “I’m coming.” His cum landed on Rouden’s belly. If Amyar had been with a harem boy, he would have then asked the boy to immediately pull out, clean up, and leave. That didn’t happen. He liked being this close to Rouden. It felt so good, so right. He kissed a very satisfied Rouden once more. His dick slipped out of Amyar’s ass. They fell asleep in each other’s arms.

  That night Amyar slept more deeply than he had in months.

  Amyar awoke first. He almost felt like today was day one. He was read
y for his new life to start and didn’t want to miss anything. He packed his plainer civilian clothes. The cloth was still delicate and expensive to the touch, but a closer match to his new life. He kept his ring and his other valuables in case he needed to sell them for money. He left his military uniform hanging. He was just finishing packing his bag when Rouden opened his eyes.

  “You look ready to go,” Rouden said.

  “I am,” said Amyar. “I’ve never been more ready for anything.”

  They left the compound, and Amyar did not look back. They only saw a few soldiers on their way out. Everyone else had already returned to Resedna for the Feast of the Angry Angels concert.

  Their first stop was a tattoo artist who removed the harem mark from Rouden’s wrist.

  “It hurts, but it no longer burns like it used to,” said Rouden as the artist applied bandages to the now clear and fragile skin.

  Their next stop was Rouden’s family home in the mountains. They arrived at nightfall as the final rays of the second sun were fading. Siddik Vasser opened the door as they approached and welcomed them with open arms.

  “What have you done, son? Have you heard the news? Come on in.”

  Besides the tattoo artist, Amyar and Rouden had spoken to almost no one else on their way. Actually, they had actively avoided human contact. They were too nervous about running into rebels. With the death of Wyke, they weren’t sure what to expect. They had decided to leave Tanshar. They were just there to say goodbye and move on, although didn’t know where to.

  “No, what?” said Rouden.

  Rouden’s father pointed to a man sitting in a chair. Amyar recognized him as one of the rebels who had been in the place where he had been held hostage. Rouden clearly recognized him as more than that. The man jumped up with a big smile and embraced Rouden.

  “Ankran! I was afraid I’d never see you again,” yelled Rouden. “Tell me everything.”

  “But first we toast!” yelled Siddik. There was so much joy in the room. Amyar suspected there was more going on than just Rouden coming home. Siddik pulled out a bottle of wine and a bunch of glasses.

  “Thasali has raised the rates they will pay for the water,” Ankran said, sounding as if he couldn’t quite believe it. “They are paying for the repair of the broken pipe. Most Thasali have left. They didn’t even leave that many soldiers behind. The official word is we are not independent, but if the water keeps flowing they will leave us alone. Alban is, of course, not satisfied, but he’s having a hard time convincing people to keep following him. Many say it’s time for us to all go home, but he still wants to fight.” He paused. “He’s also cursing Wyke for deserting us. No one can find him anywhere.”

  Rouden and Amyar exchanged a furtive look.

  “But are we at peace?” Rouden asked.

  “Close enough,” said Ingus, who had suddenly appeared among them. He pointed at Rouden’s bandage. “You did it, didn’t you?”

  Rouden nodded. “It was time for that to come to an end and something else to begin.” He grabbed Amyar’s hand and kissed it.

  Siddik raised his glass as if to make another toast.

  “I want to be with Rouden,” Amyar said. “I want to be with him forever.”

  With a wry, though kind look on his face, Rouden’s father said, “I give my blessing. Tonight we drink and celebrate. Tomorrow is another day.”

  Epilogue

  Finding a new home

  That night, Rouden consulted with his family and Ankran about where he and Amyar should go. Tanshar was now at peace, but it was uneasy. Rouden had enemies within the rebels. Amyar would not allow anyone to call him by his royal title, but there was too high of a chance that Alban or someone else would try to use him as a bargaining chip.

  They decided to settle in the twin cities region of Arthon-Evrastly, on the Arthon side. The twin cities were independent and distant from both Resedna and Tanshar. Amyar, in particular, wanted to live somewhere free of royal rule where he was unlikely to be recognized. He wanted to be somewhere where his title didn’t matter.

  *~*~*

  Once in Arthon, Amyar and Rouden set about making their new lifer together. Amyar became periodically frustrated because of royal habits he didn’t know he had and were harder to break than he felt they should have been. People didn’t defer to him automatically, which caused a few collisions while walking around Arthon. If he wanted food, he had to cook it himself. He even had to go to the market and buy the ingredients as well, and he had to have money to do that.

  His mother had wanted to give him the money he would have received when he married, but Amyar wanted to make his own way. When he broached the idea of selling his royal ring, the Matriarch had been appalled and initially forbid it. Rouden suggested that Amyar sell the ring to the Matriarch. Mother and son agreed. She gave him a substantial sum for it. Rouden said he thought maybe she had given him so much because he was her son. Amyar laughed when he saw the look on Rouden’s face when he told him how much a Thasali royal ring was worth.

  She got my ring at a substantial discount, my love, he had said.

  Amyar threw himself into learning about food and its preparation. His first attempts were underwhelming, but his skills rapidly improved. He was particularly interested in the challenge of making the standard Tanshar bread and beans more flavorful. He also decided to enroll at the twin cities’ university with an eye toward becoming a teacher.

  They found a top floor apartment a few blocks from Arthon’s city center. Their bedroom had a skylight that gave them a view of Oranto’s night sky as they lay in bed in each other’s arms.

  Rouden got a job as a carpenter. The work took him on projects all over the twin cities, which filled him with joy. At night, Rouden would return to their home with blisters and cuts on his hands. Amyar would clean the cuts and apply bandages to the blisters. The area where the harem tattoo had once been healed without a scar. Rouden’s life in the harem, along with Amyar’s life as a prince, was nothing more than a memory.

  One night as they lay in bed star gazing under the skylight, Amyar asked, “Do you miss your home?”

  “Tanshar you mean?”

  “Of course,” the former Thasali prince said gently.

  Rouden was silent for a few moments. “A bit. Sometimes. But you know here with you is my home now.”

  Amyar grinned. “I do. I just like hearing you say that part about this being your home now with me.”

  Shifting so he could see Amyar’s face, Rouden said, “I like saying it.”

  “You are the best adventure I could have hoped for,” Amyar said and kissed Rouden before falling into slumber.

  ###

  Forbidden Lessons

  Tales of the Thasali Harem 4

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Haerek Chadan, Distinguished Poetry Master of the Royal Harem School, was rapidly losing his patience. Never had a simple late-afternoon rehearsal seemed to drag on so long without the slightest hint of progress. It seemed as though they had been standing in their assigned places for days instead of hours. He slapped the palm of his hand down on the lectern, producing a startlingly loud noise.

  “Ithu! Toaz! This is the third time you have interrupted the rehearsal. I must insist that the two of you stop laughing and concentrate.”

  The two young men hung their heads, but Chadan could see the tugging at the corners of their mouths as they struggled not to smile.

  “We’re sorry, Master Chadan,” Ithu said with mock chagrin.

  Toaz, the more dominant personality of the two, spoke more forcefully. “It’s not our fault, Master. We’ve been at this so long it’s starting to sound silly.�
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  “I cannot argue with you there,” Chadan said sternly. “That is why we must take care that the final product will be nothing of the sort. I would not care to imagine the consequences if such a careless performance were to fall upon the ears of the royal family. I trust that will not be the case, however.”

  The two of them, along with several other members of the chorus assembled before him, hung their heads. Ithu, properly chastened this time, played with the novitiate wristband that marked him as a probationary harem member. All the young men in this particular group wore them. They knew full well that their behavior during the upcoming royal concert would factor into their chances of being permanently retained in the harem and swapping the metal wristband for a tattoo marking their status.

  Despite their desire to please and Chadan’s years of experience teaching in the harem, trying to get his students to recite a classic poem in the Old Tongue was looking more hopeless by the hour. In some ways, he sympathized with their struggle. The pronunciation was difficult, the words were unfamiliar, and the tonal requirements dictated that the poem be chanted in a way that was close enough to singing that it challenged those without innate sense of musical rhythm. Worse, Mekko’s lessons hadn’t helped much. The Music Master was more interested in drooling over the young men than teaching them the finer points of music.

  Not that Chadan could entirely blame him for that. As might be expected, the harem men had been specially chosen to grace the beds of princes and high-ranking royal councilors, so they were all extraordinarily beautiful and mostly intelligent and well-spoken, too. It took a personal will as strong as the palace gates not to succumb to an attraction for any of them. Luckily, his own devotion to his duties as Poetry Master consumed all his attention and allowed him to manage his emotions. Any other direction would remain a road best left untraveled. He sighed as his students continued complaining about the task before them.

  “We’ll never learn to pronounce these words properly, never mind chant them,” Ithu wailed. “There’s a reason it’s called the Old Language, surely, Master. It means everyone who knew how to speak it is dead. Normal people should not have to bother themselves with it, surely.”