[Fiction] The Palace on the Beach

[Runesmith]

The tip of Zaheera's tongue slid up along the groove between the smooth lips to the point where they joined together, hiding the small, hard nub that she was seeking. Xue Feng let out a long sigh that ended in a soft moan as Zaheera circled the sensitive little pearl without touching it. The tip of her tongue started a slow journey down the canyon, pushing apart the soft, fleshy inner lips, savouring the warm wetness carrying the faint hint of musky female arousal. When she reached that alluring opening, she quickly darted her tongue in like a bee sampling a flower, eliciting a gasp, followed by a loud exhalation as the tip of the tongue reversed direction and headed towards the throbbing little morsel again. Each traversal involved pushing the tongue a little deeper than the last, cruelly and deliciously teasing the petite Asian woman who quivered, moaned, and thrust her hips in anticipation.

Xue Feng's breath quickened as she let increasing waves of pleasure and arousal wash over her. Lying helpless as another woman took hold of her pleasure brought her back to her childhood, when her cousin Mei Zhen had moved in to the tiny apartment in Suzhou where Xue Feng had lived with her parents. The 14 year old Xue Feng had at first resented having to share her room and her bed with her cousin whom she had hardly known before, but soon, her 16 year old cousin became her best friend. They had had so much in common - their love of Manga (some of which are officially banned in China, but could be had at comic book stores if you knew how to ask.. which Mei Zhen did), the shared fantasies of fearless princesses and horseback female warriors, and the stubbornness and rebelliousness that often got them both in trouble.

Mei Zhen had moved to Suzhou to find a job. Her father had been jailed for a stealing construction material from his work (a fact that only came to light after he had angered the foreman), and that had destroyed her hopes of a higher education, even though she had been a star student in high school. In China, if one of your parents are convicted of a crime and sentenced to jail, you are automatically denied entry to universities and disqualified from ever holding a government job. Staying at her uncle's place, Mei Zhen had found a job at a roadside food stall delivering lunch to office workers, which hardly paid enough for expenses, let alone to move out.

Mei Zhen had brought her to school in the morning every day, threatened any students who dared bully her, and helped her with her homework. From her meager salary, she saved enough to buy them the latest copy of Elfen Lied and other Mangas, which the two girls excitedly read by flashlight under the blankets, marveling at the naked Manga girls experiencing forbidden pleasures. After they had fallen asleep cuddling together, Xue Feng would often wake up to feel her cousin's hand softly roaming her body. She would feign sleep and let the older girl touch her body covered in a thin nightie, and feel the deep sighs against her neck. Night after night, Mei Zhen would get bolder, squeezing her budding breasts, teasing the nipples, the fingers sliding under her nightie to roam her thighs and buttocks. She would feel Mei Zhen's other hand doing something else on her own body, until the girl's breathing would become faster until she would shudder and moan. Then Mei Zhen would hug her tenderly and whisper "Wǒ ài nǐ, wǒ de tiānshǐ (I love you, my angel)", and Xue Feng would feel a wave of love and contentment wash over her, even as she felt a strange wetness at the crotch of her panties. Falling asleep in Mei Zhen's arms was the happiest she had ever felt.

One night, she had timidly whispered back, "Wǒ yě ài nǐ, jiějiě (I love you too, big sis)" and that had changed everything. Knowing that Xue Feng had been awake and not resisted, made Mei Zhen bolder. Next night, she had pulled off Xue Feng's nightie, then her own, and found the budding young nipples with her lips. Xue Feng felt herself moaning when Mei Zhen rolled on top of her, pinning her down as they had often done when they playfully wrestled as Amazonian warriors, her large breasts pressing down on Xue Feng's tiny mounds, and forced her thigh between Xue Feng's thighs, and started a rhythmic movement that pressed each others thighs against each other's panty crotches. When she finished, Mei Zhen had kissed Xue Feng's lips and their tongues had met each other. The night after that, Mei Zhen's tongue had probed a different set of lips... Just like this western woman was doing. Just like that.

Zaheera felt Xue Feng's fingers caressing her hair, and slowly tightening their grip, pulling her mouth harder against the crotch, as the hips moved feverishly. If anyone had been outside the door, they would have clearly heard the loud moan that escaped Madam Li's lips as she climaxed.

[Runesmith]

In swimming terms, it could only be described as jumping from a kiddie pool straight in to a raging white-water torrent.

Unlike Gundik Rachel, who was from humble upbringing and treated her servants as human beings, Princess Suleika came from a prominent royal family in west Malaysia and regarded everyone who served her as sub-human. Married off to the prince at the tender age of 16, princess Suleika was the youngest of the four wives. At the age of 19, she had produced an offspring - male, who was thus able to make a claim to the prince's royal titles and inheritance if some misfortune were to befall his teen half-brother borne by the first wife, princess Aishah.

The first wife, princess Aishah, was a devout, scholarly muslim woman in her mid 40s who was rarely seen without her gold embroidered hijab. Although she had produced his heir apparent, the prince was said to hardly visit her residence, and she was only seen with him when they left the palace for official receptions at the royal palace in the capital city up north. Princess Tasmia, from the Indonesian royal house of Puranawanto of Solo and an Oxford educated veterinary surgeon, had not borne a male heir, and was said to be out of favor with the prince due to her progressive views. Rumour had it that she has been on an extended visit to the UK with her young daughter for the last couple of years, and her residence was simply being maintained to keep up appearances that she might return. Princess Raqueema, also from a west Malaysian royal house, had given birth to twin daughters, but due to complications during that pregnancy, was unlikely to carry another pregnancy successfully to term.

The four princesses had been assigned four separate residences built at each corner of the massive square palace complex. The best situated residence was the one at the north-western corner, with a beautiful view of the ocean to the west, and of the cool, dense rain-forest preserve to the north. This residence had once been assigned to the first wife, but a couple of years ago, it had been abruptly reassigned to princess Suleika at the order of the prince. It was said that this decision followed the 5th birthday celebration of princess Suleika's son, and had been immediately been followed by princess Tasmia's sudden decision to visit her family in London. Something had obviously taken place during that celebration which had catapulted princess Suleika, now 26, to the unofficial top of the hierarchy.

It was clear why the prince favoured Suleika. Not only did she possess all the attributes of classical Malay interpretation of beauty (golden tanned skin, big almond shaped eyes, pointed chin, full lips, large breasts, hourglass shaped waist that had recovered from her pregnancy with no discernible impact, firm rounded buttocks and thighs that swayed as she walked), but she also seemed to possess the streak of sociopathic sadism that Zaheera had seen in the prince on that fateful flight. Although lacking higher education, she was said to be extremely clever and "sharp as a dagger", as Madam Li had put it.

Zaheera knelt on the thick carpet in front of the elaborately carved ebony divan upholstered in red satin, her palms resting on her thighs. She was wearing the tight batik blouse and the knee length batik wraparound that was worn by Pengiring that served the princesses (the ones that served the Gundiks wore similar garments, except that the wraparound was ankle legth). In Zaheera's case, the blouses made for Asian sizes pressed tightly against her breasts, and the wraparounds only covered halfway down to her knees.

The princess, sprawling luxuriously on the divan, glared at her suspiciously. "And why exactly did that dragon woman decide to put you under my service?" Princess Suleika spoke flawless English with a slight Australian accent, having attended school in Perth since childhood.

Zaheera kept her eyes on the carpet, as she answered deferentially, "Forgive me, your highness. I believe she wanted me to gain experience from your staff, so that I can learn to serve better."

"Well, fuck me dead!" swore the princess, obviously having picked up the very best of Aussie conversational English. "What am I doing here? Running a bloody school for educating slaves? That bloody slag can bugger off for all I care."

Zaheera kept her eyes on the carpet and kept silent. For all her power, the princess had no influence on the administration of the palace complex. Madam Li had absolute power to decide on the "personnel", and that power was probably given to her to prevent the princesses and concubines fighting among themselves to get the servants they preferred, or, even to sabotage each other.

"Very well," continued the princess icily. "You want to learn? I will give you every opportunity to learn, then. You will be my night slave from tonight onward. Get a single thing wrong, and I will send you packing, do you understand?"

A night slave was the woman who would sleep in the room of a princess in order to attend to her every need through the night. Unlike the pengiring who served the concubines, the ones serving the princesses always slept at the princess's residence in one big sleeping hall. Being selected as the night slave was considered an honour, but at the same time, a very important responsibility.

As she replied, "Yes, your highness. Thank you, your highness," without nodding her head (which would have been considered offensive), she wondered why the princess gave her that position. Was it because the princess wanted to make Zaheera fail? Or did the princess actually like having a white skinned woman at her beck and call, even while sounding indignant? Well, she would soon find out.

After the princess had finished her dinner that night, and completed the Maghrib prayers, the day slave exited the room and signaled for Zaheera to enter.

[Runesmith]

The princess was dressed in jeans and a white long sleeved shirt, sitting at her laptop. Zaheera padded in silently on bare feet, and knelt at the office chair the princess was seated on, with her eyes on the ground, waiting for the princess to acknowledge her presence. The position she had been trained to assume was meant to be uncomfortable - tips of toes and the knees touching the ground, thighs straight up, back ramrod straight, palms touching the thighs, with the head bowed. After a few minutes her muscles were on fire. The princess continued working on her laptop, her fingers flying. Finally, after about quarter of an hour, she heard the chair rolling back. "So... you are here. Get my bath ready."

"Yes, your highness," replied Zaheera, glad for the chance to stand up. As she did, she noticed that the princess's attention was still fixed on the laptop. It was open to Outlook Web, and she noticed that the princess was working on an email. Years of reading things over people's shoulders in her previous life as an office assistant allowed her to catch a quick glance. It was addressed to "[email protected]" and the heading read "Re:Re:Re: Private resort investment on Pulau Kancil island". While the princess was occupied, Zaheera was able to speed read the first couple of lines.

Dear Jeff,

While the prince and I fully support you, the investment you propose falls far below expectations. As you know, the king is rather conservative, and your endeavour may run afoul of Islamic traditions and law, endangering us all. To facilitate your project and keep the "entertainment activities" quiet, we would have to get a number of officials to...

Zaheera turned away before a longer pause could betray her spying. Madam Li had specifically instructed her to find out anything about business deals the princess might be involved in, and this was obviously something she might be interested in. However, lingering further might arouse suspicion and put her life at risk. The princess didn't even look up, most likely used to the privacy she gets around slaves who aren't fluent in English. By the time Zaheera returned to the living room to announce that the bath was ready, the princess had already closed the laptop.

The princess stood up with a sigh, visibly irritated by the email that she had been composing. Zaheera hurried over to her and started unbuttoning the princess's shirt. The princess was wearing a floral perfume, but the scent had degraded to a sour note, mixed with the faint smell of sweat that carried a whiff of musk. Zaheera carefully removed the shirt and dropped it to the ground, and with a deft movement, unclasped the princess's thin lace bra, releasing the large breasts contained within. To Zaheera's surprise (and jealousy) gravity hardly seemed to affect the princess's double D breasts. They stood proudly, crowned by small inverted nipples that were just a shade darker than her Café au Lait skin, seemingly unblemished by the pregnancy five years ago. Although Zaheera knew that the baby was breast fed by a wet nurse and that the princess probably had the best post-natal cosmetic care that money could buy, she couldn't help but be amazed.

The princess shifted irritably, and Zaheera hurried to free her from the jeans and the black lace panties. As she knelt in front of the princess to lift each foot and free the clothing, Zaheera breathed in the musky scent of the princess's crotch. It was different from the delicate smell of Madam Li's pussy. The cunt of cumrag had always smelled like this when she was unused - strong, deep, and animalistic... with maybe just a hint of the soap she used to wash it with.

She led the princess to the large bathroom adjoining the sleeping chambers, and helped the princess lay back on the reclining toilet. She bathed the princess's neatly shaven vulva in rose water. It looked similar to cumrag's cunt - large plump outer lips that kept the tiny pink inner lips hidden. Cumrag had once told her that most women either had "V" cunts or "W" cunts. Zaheera had a "V" cunt - with small outer lips and big, meaty inner lips that protruded between them in the shape of a "V". Cumrag, Madam Li and the princess seemed to have "W" pussies - with plump outer lips that kept everything inside concealed, creating a pubic mount neatly split in half, looking like a W from the front.

As Zaheera leaned in to wipe the princess's vulva to prepare her to void her bladder, the princess suddenly clasped her thighs on each side of Zaheera's head. Startled, she almost pulled back, but managed to stop the reflex before her body obeyed - that would have been a big mistake. The princess owned her, and had the right to do with the slave whatever she wished. She could guess what the princess intended to do, and she was proven right.

With a loud hiss, a stream of hot, straw coloured piss gushed from between the princess's plump pussy lips, splattering Zaheera's face and mouth.

[Runesmith]

No one had ever pissed on Zaheera's face before. Not even the men who repeatedly, brutally raped her and broke her in the cabin in the woods. She had felt the slight hint of piss on cumrag's cunt and sometimes on the cocks of the men when they used her mouth. The urine that splashed on to her slightly open mouth was her first ever taste of a golden shower.

Although she promptly closed her mouth as soon as the warm stream hit, spitting out what got in to her mouth was not an option. The piss wasn't as salty as she had expected. It tasted slightly unpleasant, slightly salty, slightly sour, with a slight bitter aftertaste after she swallowed. It was like stale beer diluted with water with some salt added.

The stream splattering against her face grew weaker as the princess's bladder emptied. After a couple of spurts, it was clear that she had finished, and the pressure of the thighs against the sides of Zaheera's head lessened. As she reached for the rose water again, the princess commanded, "You do have a tongue, don't you? Use it."

Zaheera was momentarily confused, thinking that the princess was commanding her to speak. As she was about to clarify, it dawned on her what the princess meant. She obediently lowered her head, and started licking off the drops of piss clinging to the princess's vulva and thighs, swallowing intermittently. As she cleaned the cleft where the piss stream had originated from the princess let out a sigh, and spread her thighs wide.

Zaheera knew what she had to do. She certainly had definitely received enough practice. Her trained tongue traced the pink contours between the inner and outer lips of the princess's open vulva, gliding over the throbbing pink nub that crowned it. The princess strained and let out a small gush of piss as Zaheera's tongue slid over the tiny piss hole, giving her a new taste of the princess's excretions.

Zaheera understood instinctively that the princess enjoyed degrading women. She could understand it. Here was a young woman, brought up in a more liberal environment, educated in the very liberal Australia, being cooped up in a harem, surrounded only by women, with the only man who could touch her visiting her only infrequently. Her competitors for the man's affection were women. The people who served her were women. The people who irritated her were women. As in a women's prison, lesbianism was a way of having some intimacy. For the princess however, due to her position in the hierarchy, there was no hope of intimacy - she could only have sexual satisfaction with no emotional connection. Degrading the women she took pleasure from, treating them like objects or sex toys, was probably her way of creating an emotional detachment - which, over time, became a behaviour associated with the physical pleasure. However, it had probably also to do with her underlying personality traits as well, because Gundik Rachel had not changed in this way.

As Zaheera's efforts intensified, the princess's breathing became shallower, interspersed with an occasional moan. Suddenly, she grabbed two fistfuls of Zaheera's hair and started grinding her vulva against the slave's face and the thighs closed against the slave's head like a vice. Zaheera held her face still as the princess humped it, bearing the pain as the pubic bone mashed against her nose, her piss-stained face being covered by the slippery juices of the princess's arousal.

The pressure on the sides of Zaheera's head from the princess's well toned thighs intensified, and the grip on her hair was almost at the point of pulling out clumps of hair from the roots when the princess shuddered with a long drawn out moan, orgasming against the slave's face. after what seemed like an eternity, the princess's thighs let go of their vice-like grip, as did the fists intertwined in Zaheera's hair.

Zaheera cleaned up the wetness from the princess's vulva with her tongue, each touch bringing out a new shudder from the princess. Once all the juices had been lapped up and swallowed, Zaheera washed the princess's vulva with rose water before helping her up and guiding her to the bath set to the exact temperature as she had been taught.

That night, as the princess slept on her luxurious four post bed made from solid mahogany wood on silk sheets, Zaheera slept on a mat at the foot of the bed, as the night slave should.

[Runesmith]

Zaheera woke up early morning, and cleaned herself in the adjoining servant's quarters, trying not to disturb the sleeping attendants. By the time the princess woke up, she had the necessities for the morning ablutions prepared. The princess was definitely not a morning person. She woke up around 10am, missing the dawn Fajr prayers. Zaheera presented the princess with a small cup of jasmin tea in bed, and led her to the bathroom. Although Zaheera dutifully cleaned the princess's piss with her tongue as she had done the previous night, there was no sign of arousal from the princess, as had been the previous night. The morning piss tasted very bitter, like spoiled beer, and had a strong smell. This time, Zaheera had known well enough to keep her mouth tightly closed as the princess pissed on her face. Thankfully, when the princess voided her bowels, a tongue cleanup was not required - Zaheera wasn't sure whether she could have managed that, even under the pain of death. Instead, cotton pads soaked in rose water did the job.

As the princess was finishing up her breakfast (almost brunch) of Nasi Lemak (rice cooked in coconut milk and pandan leaves, served with fried egg, fried fish, roasted peanuts, cucumber and fiery sambal belachang), the day attendant came in, bringing with her the princess's son. The little prince ran in with the exuberance that every 7 year old possesses, dressed in a spiderman suit, waving a plastic light saber, yelling, "mama, mama, look! I am jedi spiderman!"

The little prince lived in his own quarters, being brought up by a wet nurse as an infant, and currently cared for by a pair of nannies. A private tutor schooled the little princes and princesses of the harem, until they were old enough to be sent to boarding schools in England or Switzerland. Every day, the little prince had a few hours together with his mother. He hardly ever saw his father.

The princess narrowly avoided falling off the office chair on which she had been sitting, finishing up breakfast while working on her laptop, when the little bundle of energy slammed in to her, enclosing her in a tight hug. "Jedi spiderman? Where do you get this silly ideas, anak?" tousled the princess the unruly hair on the boy's head, her stern face melting in to a sweet, happy smile of a mother enjoying a tender moment with her son. "Mama, have you seen? There's a huge ship!" babbled the boy excitedly dragging on the mother's hand. The princess stood up and let the excited boy lead her to the balcony, which opened out to the brilliant white sand of the beach, and the blue waters of the sea beyond, on which a large luxury yacht with several satellite antennae was sailing by. The day attendant motioned for Zaheera to clear the breakfast as she hurried behind the royalty.

The princess had left the laptop open. Zaheera glanced at the balcony where the boy was excitedly babbling and princess was laughing. It was the first time Zaheera had heard the princess laugh. Taking advantage of the distraction Zaheera studied the laptop while loading plates and dishes on to a tray. The princess had been looking at a PDF file, sent as an email attachment from what appeared to be an architectural firm in London. Having worked as an office assistant at the construction company Züblin prior to her last job, the slave could easily make out the plans.

It was a scale map of a small island with a small harbor, a helipad, several large resort style bungalows and several small buildings, labeled "spa", "massage pavilion", "music pavilion", "beach bar", and "catwalk". Noting the location where the princess was currently at, Zaheera quickly scrolled to the start of the document, which was titled "Resort project Pulau Kancil". The pages that followed had schematics and renderings of the buildings, ending with several pages of estimates. The final cost estimate ("not including expenses due to potential ground instabilities missed by the surveyors" read the disclaimer) came to 117 million pounds. Zaheera quickly scrolled back to the position the princess left the document at, picked up the tray and left, hoping that her small act of espionage would not be discovered. Even though she was sure that she covered her tracks well, her hands trembled as she held the tray.

In the late afternoon, when she met with her lover, she related everything she had memorized, and Madam Li took notes on her ever-present tablet. She appeared very pleased with the information that she was getting, and that made Zaheera happy. Afterwards, as they both lay in each other's arms, exhausted after the mutual orgasms, Zaheera knew she would do whatever she could for her lover, even if that meant risking her life.

That evening, when she entered the princess's apartment, princess wasn't working on her laptop. Instead, she was pacing around the room, and glared sternly at Zaheera as she entered. "Come here," demanded the princess, pointing at the floor at her feet. Zaheera quickly took her position, and waited nervously for the princess to speak, trying to hide the trembling in her hands. Had her snooping been discovered?