1. The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirty-Two: The Seduction of the Si'lat


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    hands hiked up Faiza's skirt, and Hecate allowed her Vessel's legs to part, inviting Makerah to take more liberties with her. He laughed, his lips sucking at Faiza's neck as Hecate forced her Vessel to guide his cock to Faiza's pussy. “No. That is for your father. You may have my ass.” Makerah spun her about, pressing her against the cool, blue wall. Hecate savored the pleasure as his thick cock penetrated Faiza's ass. Makerah groaned, sucking harder, driving his cock deep into the Vessel's bowls. “There is a place for you in my plan,” she moaned through Faiza's mouth. “Fuck me harder, then we should find a private place to talk.” Makerah groaned, his hips hammering with such passion. The pleasure swelled through her Vessel's body, roaring through Hecate's mind. She loved every second of her Vessel's violation, forcing Faiza's hips to pump and writhe as the cock reamed her asshole. “Fuck me harder, Makerah! Drive that cock in deep and make me cum!” “Fucking whore!” he gasped; flesh slapped against flesh. “I am going to enjoy our alliance!” “Me, too!” Hecate screamed through her Vessel's lips. The pleasure swelled, on the verge of bursting and flooding bliss through Faiza's body. “Cum in me! Spill your seed in my ass!” He buried deep into Faiza's asshole; liquid warmth pumped into her Vessel. Bliss erupted, slamming through Faiza's body and Hecate's mind. She screamed out her passion through Faiza's lips, clawing the wall with Faiza's fingers. Her Vessel shuddered and ...
    spasmed, Faiza's ass spasmed about Makerah's thick, cumming cock. “You young stud,” Hecate moaned as the last pleasure shuddered through. “I will enjoy working with your passion.” ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Khoshilat Maqandeli Kyle waited with his wives and concubines in the antechamber. The smell of roasting meat seasoned with herbs and honey rolled through the halls and his stomach growled in anticipation. “Patience, my love,” Aaliyah smiled, leaning against him. “You are the Sultan. You must be the last to enter.” A feast had been whipped up by the Jann to celebrate the arrival of Sheikha Hawaa binti al-Si'lat. After the feast, Kyle would discuss the terms for the Si'lat's alliance. He would have preferred a simple dinner to talk with the beautiful woman, but these Djinn loved their ceremony and proprieties. “I'm with Kyle, let's go in there and eat! I'm starving!” Fatima moaned. “When are you not starving, Mistress,” Ann laughed, throwing her pale arms around Fatima's dusky body and hugging her Mistress tight. Ann's strawberry-blonde hair peaked out around her purple shawl. Everyone was dressed in silks, Kyle in regal white, his vest open to show off his muscular stomach and chest, Aaliyah in yellow silk. It wasn't translucent like the outfit she wore in the privacy of their quarters. Fatima was swaddled in fiery red, Christy in Black, and Fumi in green. The concubines wore regal purple, and Britney was draped in blue, though she refused the veil and shawl the other women ...
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