The Harem

Chapter Four-1

Chapter Four

Sapphire

Dear Diary: I just had kinky s*x with this hot guy named J! I’ve never been drilled so hard by a lover before. God, I’m kind of sore, actually, like I just rode a stallion out of the burning woods. So now I’m sitting around in this funny kind of waiting room full of fluffy pink pillows, finishing my second glass of Master J’s imported Bordeaux. I’m wearing a black thong, black stockings and garter belt, a black corset with a see-through top exposing my t**s, and high heels. There is another girl sitting on a couch nearby, also wearing transparent lingerie exposing her curvy t**s and ass. She’s looking pretty relaxed. Looks like J thoroughly worked her over too.

I’m writing in this journal J gave me to kill the time. I’m getting a little bored here. Only wine? s**t! What kind of a lame party is this? I’m on my third glass and I don’t even have a slight buzz. I’ll probably take off soon. I got that paper due on Monday that I haven’t even started looming over my head like a dark rain cloud.

J’s in with skank number 3 right now, doing God knows what to the poor girl. What a piece of work this guy is! Earlier this evening, J chained me to the wall in his little fun room, blindfolded me and then really took charge, positioning me face down over a foam wedge of some kind. I guess he’s secretly into B and D. J made me come twice, once with his tongue on my c******s, very romantic. He made me mew and purr like a kitten that had just lapped up her cream. The second time I came super hard as he entered me from behind, making me shake and shiver inside like I never did before. And I couldn’t even make the guy come! Usually it’s the other way around with men. This guy may be naughty, but he’s also very polite. Women first, gentlemen!

He did leak a few drops of semen out of his tip right before he was about to explode and I treated myself to a little taste. Hmmm. Salty-sweet. But one drop on the tip of my tongue left this Harem girl wanting more. Well, I’ve always liked a challenge. He said if I stick around, we can have another private session later. He already called me the crown jewel of his Harem. It’s funny. He takes this s**t a little too seriously, don’t you think? Maybe he was some kind of Middle-Eastern Muslim sheik in his past life, who knows. He invited me to share his big bed and spend the night with him and the other concubines. No, I’m definitely taking off later. That’s where I draw the line. I think this scene is a little too weird, even for a freak like me! I mean, the guy’s a hot mess! He practically proposed to marry me the first second he saw my n****e rings. I don’t know who needs to see a psychiatrist more, him or me.

When I met up with J at Starbucks, I agreed to whatever he wanted to do immediately. Currently, I’m juggling several lovers that I met over the web, at school or partying with in bars. I’ve already gotten bored with most of them. I really should be trying to get rid of a few, rather than be on the hunt for a new one. But when I was surfing my favorite website a few days ago I stumbled upon J’s photo and personal ad, and I got curious. He had these rugged good looks and he wasn’t smiling in the picture, which I liked. I hate it when hunky guys smile on their profiles. I think their toothy grins make them look stupid, like they were just kicked in the head by a horse. I mean, they should drop the “I’m such a nice non-threatening guy, you can feel safe with me bullshit” when we all know what it is they want. If you’re in the market for a safe guy, I don’t think you’d be visiting that naughty website, right? J’s picture definitely did not look safe. The message he left sounded interesting enough to check him out, at least for the initial meeting. I liked the non-exclusivity part. I have enough clingy guys right now hanging onto me like wet clothes. I took one glance at him sitting there so straight and narrow in that sexy suit of his and I was sold. What did they say in that movie? “You had me at hello.”

I shuffled things around a bit to spend this Friday night with him, even if some of the guys in my life got pissed at my end of the week inaccessibility. Whatever. They’ll get over it. Hey boys! Go to the drugstore this Friday and buy some Johnson’s Baby Lotion. Cream or oil, they’ll both do the trick. It’ll be like you’re having a party in your palm and I get the night off to have some fun with this new guy, J.

Now, the first thing you should know about me is I don’t usually go for men who are way older than me. It usually makes me sick to my stomach when some old fart with out of control nose hairs poking out from beneath his gross nostrils tries to hit on me. What are they thinking? Do they think they have the slightest chance with me, showing off their stinking billfolds? “Can I buy you a drink?” NO! Get your stinky breath out of my face and go home to your wife and show her some attention, you perverted, blue pill popping, saggy-assed, shriveled-balled, gray-skinned, prematurely ejaculating, small-dicked ED bastard!

If I got a little carried away there, I’m sorry. It’s just that old guys really make me sick. But with J, I thought, why not give it a chance, at least once. He did look around ten years older than me in his picture, but maybe older men are like fine wine. They need to age a bit to acquire that sublime flavor and get rid of the bitter taste of youth. And I’m considered an expert at how bitter some guys actually taste. So even though he’s older than me, he looked all muscled and hot so I figured, why not try it once. Why not? What have I got to lose? My virginity? I don’t think so.

He seemed to be chomping at the bit to try out this Harem idea of his. Every guy’s fantasy, right? You know, to be honest, the idea made me a little wet between the thighs as he talked to me about it at Starbucks, picturing myself as his love slave. It takes some balls to try to make an elaborate s****l fantasy like that become real, so I respected the guy right away. Anyway, it had to be better than the way I spent last Friday night when I had to hold my date’s head over the toilet in the men’s bathroom as the guy puked his guts out after a few too many with me at the bar. Disgusting. And the guy kept calling all week, wanting a mercy-f**k Friday night! Now do you see why the decision was rather easy for me? Puking guy or love slave fantasy. I went with the Sheik.

He told me the other girls were coming at 9, but asked me if I wouldn’t mind coming a little earlier to get things started, say at 8. Sure. We agreed to meet at 8, this Friday, at his home. He gave me his business card with his address and phone number on it.

Ewww. Fancy! I guess I’ve officially entered the adult world now. Christ! I guess I’ve finally grown up! A business card. Yikes.

On Friday night I pulled up at 7:45, like an eager beaver, forgive the pun. I had just come down off smoking a rock, to celebrate the Rockville Harem’s Grand Opening. It’s about time we had a Harem in the suburbs of DC, don’t you think?

I parked in front of the guy’s castle and rang the bell, admiring the intricate design of beveled glass inlayed into the front door. When I’m high, I just see things clearer, you know what I mean? Through the glass I saw the refracted image of a figure approaching. The door swung open and some kind of strange butler dude met me. I expected him to say, “You rang?” like that tall guy Lurch from The Addams Family show I used to watch reruns of when I was a kid.

“Good evening, Miss,” he said.

The guy looked a little freaky, like he was about to cut up my brains and do an autopsy for the advancement of science. The tall ghoulish manservant ushered me through this ostentatious marble foyer. I asked him for his name.

“Alfred Billingsley, Miss.”

“You mean you’re Alfred, the old guy that organizes the Bat Cave?” I joked.

He didn’t reply to my little quip, only to say that Master Jeremy was just stepping out of the shower and he would meet me “presently”. This guy J must be rolling in dough. Alfred escorted me to a lovely bedroom. He handed me a 2 page contract to sign, all about not being able to sue J. The only rule appeared to be I had to wear whatever costume he chose. Alfred directed my attention to a prettily wrapped gift box sitting on the bed and showed me the “facilities”. He asked me if I wanted to “bathe” and make myself more comfortable. I signed the contract without really reading it and Alfred snatched it out of my hands with his long bony fingers. He left and returned a moment later, handing me a copy of the contract. Not knowing where else to put it, I folded it up in my back pocket. If I ever get around to washing the black distressed jeans I was wearing, I can almost guarantee the stupid papers will go straight through the wash. Between school, studying and partying, who’s got time to check your pockets before throwing your clothes into the laundry? OK, so I’m not domesticated, I never claimed to be. Alfred cleared his throat, told me he would let “The Master” know I’d arrived. Like a zombie, Billingsley turned stiffly and left the room.

I imagined one of his arms falling off at his shoulder and dragging itself by its fingers on the floor out the door behind him. Boy, was I tripping! Maybe I needed another hit to stabilize. I felt on the outside of my pocket for my pipe and realized I’d left it out in my car. s**t!

I undressed, leaving my jeans and sweater on a chair and went into the “facilities” to take a long hot shower. Sweet. He had some nice expensive soaps, shampoos and conditioners in there so I made use of them. I found a razor and shaving cream on a shelf and did a little touch up down there, just in case. I got out, dried off and wrapped a large fluffy white towel around my waist. I found a small bottle of fragrant oil in the bathroom cabinet and put a few drops on my private parts. Why not get myself in the mood for the guy? Plus I kept imagining I could still smell last Friday’s puke on my body. Even though I’m a junkie, I still care about personal hygiene. I made myself smell good enough to eat. I’d do myself the way I smelled at that moment.

I was seriously about to lie down on the bed and get down to business, when the door opened. Jeremy filled the doorway like a block of stone, all 200 plus pounds of him, in a sexy black silk robe, his thick hair still wet from his shower. He was, of course, staring at my t**s. For the occasion I dangled two hooped rings from my pierced n*****s, to go with my tongue and ear piercings. No big deal, but the sight of them seemed to make J’s London Bridge go up, up, up.

“You like, J?”

He came close to me, leaned forward and gave me the sweetest kiss on the cheek. I’m not bullshitting you. J’s quite a charming man, actually. Then he got this crazy look in his eyes.

“Do I like? Jesus Christ, yes! I like. No, I love it Sapphire! One look at your pretty breasts, I’m hearing wedding bells chime. Seriously, I’m about to get down on one knee and propose to you right now, so help me God!”

Needless to say, that kind of freaked me out from the get-go.

“Wedding bells? Are you high? What the f**k are you talking about? Get a hold of yourself, man. What the hell’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry, but those n****e rings are so damn pretty. I’ve never seen n****e rings like—”

“It’s just a little piercing, J. And I like being single. Isn’t that what you said on the contract I signed, no emotional commitments?

“You’re right, Sapphire. You’re absolutely right. I don’t know what came over me. I hope I haven’t ruined things between us, before we even get started.”

What I didn’t reveal to J was… I was secretly flattered by the crazy guy. No one ever responded so passionately like that by just looking at my breasts. And it made me feel wet and warm between my thighs, the way he kept gawking at my n****e rings. So I said, “Just calm down and get your s**t together J. You can get down on one knee in front of me right now if you want, but I don’t want to hear any marriage proposals, OK?”