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Constantinople

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Barbaria1 said:
Love that pic Siss.....the empty seat beside you??? Wonder where I wandered off to when that was taken? :rolleyes:
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I think that you were getting the Sandwich we were going to split. :D
 
cxslave said:
OMG!!!! Just got caught up!! SOOOOO goooood! I'm in such a state after the last chapter!:very_hot: Incredible storytelling Barb and Siss!!:bdsm-heart:
I have to admit Adelfia dodged the questioned of her identity rather...ahem...gracefully...:devil:
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Ahem! :p. ;)
 
Finally got to read this installment. Sizzling! You girls don't waste any time - you don't have time to waste in the dungeons of the Turk, I suppose.;) Such earth-moving connection will make any separation or tortures to come so much more painful, of course.
For now, I'll just find something cool. :very_hot:

Then I might just read it again. :D
 
11​

Morning, 31 May 1453.

We lie naked on the floor of our cell, wrapped blissfully in each other's arms. Adelfi’s head rests on my shoulder, golden strands of her hair spread across my breasts. She sleeps peacefully, breathing shallowly ... A slight smile crosses her face and a contented little murmur escapes her lips.

I shift my cramping legs and turn my hips toward her, propping my head up with one hand. I blow a wisp of hair from my face and study her.

Who is she? Why do I know nothing more about her than her name and her amazing ability to arouse my passions to heights that I never dreamed possible?

She is too fair skinned to be Greek. She must be from some northern land. Perhaps she was brought here as a slave? Or is she someone important? It's such a mystery to me. Why does she avoid telling me more?

As I gaze at her my desire mounts. I want her again. Tentatively, I extend my finger to trace the gentle curve of her hip, following it to her narrow waist, and then gently I circle the crinkly puckered flesh of an areola and brush the pointed tip of her nipple with the back of my hand.

She stirs. Her eyes flutter open and she takes me in. A look of seriousness crosses her face. Then she grasps my wrist, giggles playfully, and pulls me close. I throw my leg over and slide on top of her, pressing down, barely able to contain myself.

But the moment is shattered by the loud crashing sound of the bar on the outside of our cell door being lifted and cast aside. A Janissary bursts into our cell and lets out an angry roar at the sight of our coupling. He separates us with a few well-placed kicks.

He kneels over me as I lay on my back and wipes away with his finger some of the wet juices smeared on my inner thigh. He sniffs at it and wrinkles his pock-marked bulbous nose. With disgust written all over his face he slaps me hard across the mouth, drawing blood.

He stands and draws the wide leather belt from his waist, and wraps one end around his fist. Desperately, I get up on my hands and knees and try to crawl away, but he brings the leather belt down on my ass with a resounding smack that sends me sprawling. Adelfi lands alongside me, dragged there by the chain that links the iron collars around our necks.

He raises the belt again. As I try to squirm on my tummy out of harm’s way, I hear a swoosh and a muffled gurgling sound. The Janissary’s severed head bounces past me and rolls up against the wall.

Petrified with fear and revulsion, I stare at the Janissary’s head, with its startled eyes wide open in death. I retch. Slowly I turn around. Behind me stands Mehmet, blood-stained scimitar in his right hand.

Our eyes meet and lock. He holds me in his gaze for a while, then turns to look at Adelfi, barks orders to his personal bodyguards who have now entered the cell. I only understand one word of it … “harem”.

TO BE CONTINUED
 
Barbaria1 said:
11​

Morning, 31 May 1453.

We lie naked on the floor of our cell, wrapped blissfully in each other's arms. Adelfi’s head rests on my shoulder, golden strands of her hair spread across my breasts. She sleeps peacefully, breathing shallowly ... A slight smile crosses her face and a contented little murmur escapes her lips.

I shift my cramping legs and turn my hips toward her, propping my head up with one hand. I blow a wisp of hair from my face and study her.

Who is she? Why do I know nothing more about her than her name and her amazing ability to arouse my passions to heights that I never dreamed possible?

She is too fair skinned to be Greek. She must be from some northern land. Perhaps she was brought here as a slave? Or is she someone important? It's such a mystery to me. Why does she avoid telling me more?

As I gaze at her my desire mounts. I want her again. Tentatively, I extend my finger to trace the gentle curve of her hip, following it to her narrow waist, and then gently I circle the crinkly puckered flesh of an areola and brush the pointed tip of her nipple with the back of my hand.

She stirs. Her eyes flutter open and she takes me in. A look of seriousness crosses her face. Then she grasps my wrist, giggles playfully, and pulls me close. I throw my leg over and slide on top of her, pressing down, barely able to contain myself.

But the moment is shattered by the loud crashing sound of the bar on the outside of our cell door being lifted and cast aside. A Janissary bursts into our cell and lets out an angry roar at the sight of our coupling. He separates us with a few well-placed kicks.

He kneels over me as I lay on my back and wipes away with his finger some of the wet juices smeared on my inner thigh. He sniffs at it and wrinkles his pock-marked bulbous nose. With disgust written all over his face he slaps me hard across the mouth, drawing blood.

He stands and draws the wide leather belt from his waist, and wraps one end around his fist. Desperately, I get up on my hands and knees and try to crawl away, but he brings the leather belt down on my ass with a resounding smack that sends me sprawling. Adelfi lands alongside me, dragged there by the chain that links the iron collars around our necks.

He raises the belt again. As I try to squirm on my tummy out of harm’s way, I hear a swoosh and a muffled gurgling sound. The Janissary’s severed head bounces past me and rolls up against the wall.

Petrified with fear and revulsion, I stare at the Janissary’s head, with its startled eyes wide open in death. I retch. Slowly I turn around. Behind me stands Mehmet, blood-stained scimitar in his right hand.

Our eyes meet and lock. He holds me in his gaze for a while, then turns to look at Adelfi, barks orders to his personal bodyguards who have now entered the cell. I only understand one word of it … “harem”.

TO BE CONTINUED
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Really well done. The shift from passion to sudden terror and then shock is great. I may have to like this Mehmet, for a bit anyway.
 
Eulalia said:
aha, Messaline of the Résistance -
"listen very carefully, I vill say zis only once!" ;) :p
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For those who don't recognise the allusion:


Allo Allo. A comedy series about the French Resistance? :confused:

Somehow, it was funny!

:D
 
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Oh I'm soooo impressed with this last chapter!! Everything about it! Such erotic tenderness, then such excitement!!:popcorn: And we still don't know where the damn girl is from...:rolleyes: I'm not sure if our girls will fare better in the harem or not, but I can't wait to read more...:D
 
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