Jasmine, An Arabian Nights story of sex, sperm, spanking, and revenge

Most of us are familiar with the stories from the Arabian nights. Here is one I have written for you, full of all the ingredients I know you like

My name is Jasmine, and I am the daughter of the great Sultan here in the palace of Baghdad. I do not know exactly how old I am, but one of the servant girls told me that I have seen eighteen summers , and as my breasts have been lush and ripe for at least two or three of them I think that must be right. I have also been told that a handsome prince from a far off land will soon be coming to claim me as his bride, so I am both young and grown up which is a nice thing to be.

Life here in the palace is pleasant and easy and I have little to do each day but to recline in pleasure while I listen to music, and eat many treats and of course to be pampered by the servant girls.

My most arduous task is to In admire my looks in the many mirrors and find ways of making myself more alluring and desirable for my husband when he comes to claim me. I am sure he will not be dissatisfied as my face is fair, my eyes big and dark, and my body slim and sinuous. At night in my bed I often run my hands over my thighs and breasts and think how pleased he will be with me, and that is calming and pleasant, but when the nights are warm and perfumed and I imagine him folding me to him, sometimes I also stroke my hands over the lotus flower that nestles between my legs, but that is not calming and only seems to light strange fires that smoulder the entire night.

I have asked my sister about the pleasure that comes when I touch my body, but all she said was that there were things she would tell me about my body and about men's bodies before my wedding night, but that until then I did not need to know them.

I have sisters and brothers here in the palace, but the person who has become my confidant and advisor is my Father’s Grand Vizier. He was prt of the household from my earliest days so I became used to calling him Uncle, even though he is not a relative. When I was younger he had little time for me, but since I have grown to womanhood he has paid me lots of attention, and when I talk to him about how much I long for my handsome prince he listens with great interest and always tells me how happy my prince will be when he sees me for the first time, but I was disturbed when he told me that time was passing and if when my prince arrived I did not look young and fresh and desirable that maybe he might not want to marry me.

“Uncle!” I cried, rushing to the mirror, “Surely of all the girls here who is visited by the red river each month I am the youngest, and even my oldest sister who does not often pay compliments says I am the fairest and most desirable girl in the whole kingdom.”

“You are.” He said, “But each day we get older and our looks loose their bloom. It is very sad.”

“But you are such a wise man.” I say “Is there nothing I can do about that?”

“Well, my child.” And his face takes on a look of great cunning. “There is an ointment, a potion of great power and effectiveness, and if it is used often enough it will give a girl the face that will be more beautiful each time it is applied.”

“But do you have any of this potion?” I cry, and he answers that he does, an inexhaustible supply, and that all men have it, though this is a great secret.”You must tell no one.” He says. “But I will come to your bed chamber tonight and show you how it can be applied.”

I am really excited, and when I hug and kiss him I can see he is truly pleased though looks concerned at my next words. “Can I not even tell my eldest sister?” I ask him, but he is very strong in his answer. My eldest sister is a powerful person in the palace and is second only to my father the Sultan in authority here. ”Specially not your sister.” He says. “Absolutely no one must know. And now he is kissing me. “I will see you in your bed chamber at midnight.”

He come to me as promised and tells me I should recline against my pillows and he positions himself on my bed with his knees planted either side of me, then reaches inside his silk trousers and takes out something the like of which I have never seen. It us a great waving rod of flesh, a hard quivering thing with a small open eye that seems to be looking at me.

I know my little brothers have a piece of soft curling flesh at their middles where I have my cleft, and when they are being naughty they get them out and wave them at me, but they are nothing like this, and I stare at it fascinated.

“It is a man’s Rod of Pleasure,” He says, “His Sword of Vengeance and his Serpent of Happiness. It is his best friend and his most important possession, but more than that, it is has magic powers and can generate the unguent of which I told you.”

“May I touch it, Uncle?” I ask him, and his face takes on a look of wondrous pleasure and tells me I can touch it as much and as often as I want as the more it is touched by young pretty girls the greater its potency. I do so, stroking and feeling it, and in my hand it is like a strange living creature, quivering and pulsing at my touch. At first my Uncle seems happy with this and is giving off contented grunts and murmurs, but then the noises he is making start to sound urgent and he is calling out to me that it is time to produce the potion and he takes it in his own hand and in a very purposeful way starts to rub it up and down the thick shaft, quietly groaning and gasping as he does so.

Watching this is a strange experience, and as I do so I start to feel the way I do when I think of my husband coming to me, and it seems that something is happening deep inside my lotus flower which suddenly feels moist and warm. His Rod of Pleasure changes color as I watch, the pink getting darker and taking on shades of purple and I see that as it does so, his face is also is taking on the same deep colours.

It seems that something is happening as he is gasping now and his hand pumping at his rod as if he is possessed, and then. “May Allah be praised!” He calls out, and from the single eye a great gush of white cream shoots out into my face, temporarily blinding me it is so thick.

“Do not move, child.” He begs me, and he rubs all this unguent into my face, all the while breathing as if he will never breath again.

“And is that the substance?” I ask, as excited as when I was a child. “The substance that will make me young and beautiful.”

“It is.” He says, “And provided it is applied regularly your beauty will grow even more. It will not always be easy, but whenever I can create an opportunity to be alone with you I will do this for you”

And being such a kind and caring Uncle he does, sometimes finding opportunities two or three times in the same day and expelling what must be great jugfulls of this wonderful cream into my face and I am feeling happy and pleased that all will be well when my prince arrives, but then one day he reminds me that it is not only my face that my husband will take pleasure in.

“Have you looked at the girls in the harem?” He asks me. “How their breasts are ripe and firm and stand out from their bodies like the eggs of a dove.“ And of course I have. “But my breasts are even more fair. “ I tell him, “Like the ripest peaches that are ready to fall from the branch.”

He reaches out a hand to feel them and with his eyes bright and happy he agrees that they are full and firm, ”But I need to see them to really know .” He tells me. “This afternoon when all the palace are sleeping, I will give you my opinion.”

And when we get together he helps me remove all clothing that obscures his view, and he looks at my breasts from every angle and position and feels them in his hands to test their firmness, then tells me that, yes, they are as perfect as young breasts can be, but that I must ensure that they stay that way. “How can that be done, Uncle?” I ask him looking at myself in a long mirror and seeing that their shape and size could hardly be better.

“It is the same substance.” He tells me. “The same potion we have been using on your face. Why don’t you recline there right now and we will start to beautify them straight away.”

And just as with my face, he knees astride me with his sword of vengeance looking even more fierce and potent than before, and starts to manipulate and rub it, this time the single eye pointing between my breasts, but just when it is clear he is about to shoot the potion at me he tells me that his arm is hurting and asks me to take over the manipulation, and I do, feeling the hot hardness of his great serpent in my hand and finding myself strangely excited to be doing this. At first I do not do it quite right, but then he instructs me about when to be faster and when to be slower and how firmly it should be gripped, and it does not take long to understand. Soon he is telling me that I am even better at it than he is and as he groans and whimpers I see that the moment has come and an even bigger gush than usual of the unguent expels itself over my breasts which he proceeds to rub in with great thoroughness.

“You are so kind, Uncle.” I tell him. “The kindest man in all the kingdom. Can you bear to do this for me again so my breasts become more beautiful than any others in the palace.” And he tells me that it will be his pleasure to carry out this task.

How he manages to fit in his other palace duties I do not know, as at every opportunity he comes to me and discharges the magic cream at my face or my breasts and I know that soon my beauty will surpass all others in the kingdom, but then something occurs to me which I had not thought of.

“My bottom uncle!" This is not easy for me to see, but when I twist round to the mirror it looks round and sweet and as lovely as the rest of me, but is there a danger that.....?”

But he interrupts me. ”The very thing, child.” He tells me, “The very thing that I was going to say to you. It would be a shame if that were to let you down. Shall we take a look and see if it would benefit?”

So I bend myself over a great pile of cushions and he takes down my silky trousers and whatever it is he sees causes me to worry as he lets out a great gasp. “What is it, Uncle?” I ask, but it takes him a while to answer. ”Your bottom child … it is so....” But he does not finish as he is investigating it with his hand, all over and round it and even up between my thighs so I feel his fingers my lotus flower and I gasp and squirm as it is strangely beautiful.

“There are things I have to tell you!” He says, his voice strained and hoarse, “But right now there is an urgent need......” And twisting round I see he has already taken out his rod of pleasure which he has nestled between the globes that are normally hidden by my trousers and is doing what is necessary to expel the potion.

“Is it really that urgent, Uncle?” I ask him, my face bent down in the cushions below me.

“Very urgent, child!” And the need must be urgent, as quicker than I would have imagined I feel it gush against me, and immediately his hands are rubbing it in to every mound and crevice of my bottom, and as he does this I have the strangest feeling and it is as if something down there is exploding and now I am gasping and whimpering the way he does when he expels the ointment.

It takes us a while before either of us can speak, but when we can he tells me that, despite what he had just done, that bottoms are far more complex than other parts of the body. “What is important, child, is for the blood to be made to rush and circulate like a tumbling stream beneath your skin, and after that the potion can be applied.” But then he asks me something strange. “You know what happens to the slave girls when they misbehave or fail in their duties?”

“Yes, Uncle.” I say. “They are punished. If it is serious they are strapped to a frame and whipped and it is a terrible thing, but if it is not so serious then the slave master sits on a low stool and takes them across his knee with their lower garments removed and spanks them in the way that children are spanked.

I have often thought that this cannot be a very effective punishment as I have noticed that both Fatima and Ruby, the two youngest and prettiest of the slave girls are always being spanked, sometimes till their bottoms look like glowing rubies, but when it is over they both look at the slave master in a proud and peculiar way and lots of strange things are said which I do not understand and then they go off with the slave master to his quarters and are not seen for some hours.

“ But then,” I say as I remember something. ”You know all that as often you have your special chair brought so you can watch them being punished.”

“That is true child.” And his face takes on the look of cunning it often does when talking to me these days. “But as a senior member of the Royal household I have to oversee many things.” But he tells me that what I need to know is that although spanking is a punishment, what it does is to creates a glow in a young bottom that helps keep it tight and fresh and firm. If as well as being regularly spanked a bottom has the magic cream rubbed into it, it will stay young and desirable for ever.

“But will it not hurt, Uncle?” I ask him remembering the hard slap of the slave master’s hand on those young red bottoms.

“Yes, my child.” And he is rubbing is hands together in a peculiar way. “But the more it hurts, the more it will be making you beautiful.” And he arranges to meet me at the summer pavilion tomorrow when the palace is at prayers.

“I think,” He says to me when we meet, his eyes moist and strange and his voice hoarse. “That this time, as well as your bottom being exposed it would be as well to have all of you naked. I have a feeling that this time that I am going to produce enough of the unguent to beautify your entire body.”

And he helps me undress, takes his time to look and feel and investigate every small inch of me to see how his treatment is working then takes me over his knee. He is such a kind and caring uncle that I can tell that even before he has started that he is he is already to expel his potion as I can feel his rod already stiff and hard underneath me.

"To spank a Royal child is unseemly.” He says, rubbing is hand over my naked bottom and making me wriggle. ”So while we are doing this we will pretend that I am the slave master and you are a slave girl.” He then proceeds to tell me how wicked I am and how much I deserve to be punished, and being naked and being across his knee like this and hearing his words is making me feel strange and soft, and all the while he is caressing my bottom so thoroughly that sometimes his fingers brush against my lotus flower and are making me have the strange explosions I had before. I don’t understand the peculiar things that are happening inside me though I know it is connected with being naked and being punished, and when he starts to spank me I lose myself in being a miscreant slave girl and I know that I deserve to be punished, and although each slap on my bare buttocks is painful it strangely enjoyable and I can see why Fatima and Ruby always have a look of odd satisfaction on their faces after they have been punished this way.

My uncle also appears to have lost himself in what he is doing as he is scourging my young buttocks with a powerful determination and the pain this is causing me is overtaking everything else. I know that he had said that the more painful it was the more I was being beautified, but it is more than I can tolerate and I am beginning to scream and call out to him to stop but he doesn’t appear to hear me and spanks me even harder,

And all the while his rod is doing a strange dance underneath me, then suddenly he leaps up and nearly tips me on to the floor.

"The best beauty treatment of all," He is crying out as if he is demented. "Is to swallow the potion." He is ripping off all his lower clothing and his rod is bigger and stiffer than I have ever seen it. “That way your entire body will glow with a new and radiant beauty the like of which has not been seen in the whole of the East.” He looks at me with wild eyes." Do you want that child?”

And carried away by his fervor I cry that I do, ignoring the screaming pain in my bottom that feels as if a fire has been lit there. "But there is no cup here."

"We don’t need a cup, child. To ensure that not one single precious drop is wasted there is only one way to do it.” And he instructs me to kneel, then positions himself in front of me. “Take the rod,” He says, his voice trembling with emotion. “Take the rod in your mouth, then use your lips and tongue the way I have taught you to use your hand."

And with my mouth full of his pleasure serpent I move back and forwards up and down the length of it, sucking and easing and cajoling till he lets out a great bellow as if he had been mortally wounded and what feels like a great lake of the thick cream shoots down my throat just as my sister walks in to the pavilion and lets out a scream.


After she has explained it all to me I start to understand, not just what my Uncle had been doing, but all the secrets of the bed chamber that have been withheld from me until now. The smoldering glances of the slave girls, the perfumed undulations of the women of the harem make sense at last

But of course my Uncle had not been concerned to make me beautiful, but to borrow pleasures that by rights only belonged to my husband, and when I understand that I am angry with him, even though my sister does say that she had noticed that my bloom seemed even more radiant looking than usual.

"No one must ever know of this” She tells me. “As your father will banish you and your handsome prince will no longer wish to marry you. But regardless your Uncle has to be punished.”

I agree with her, and in the palace we are not short of interesting and inventive punishments, but I have an idea of my own, and when I explain it to her my sister agrees that it would be appropriate That night to celebrate what we will do to him we have a great feast with wine and music and the slave girls dance naked for our pleasure and it is almost morning before I retire to my bed chamber and sleep like a child.

“Uncle,” I say to him the next day. “Uncle it is all right. “You have been forgiven.”

“Forgiven, child? Where are you?” He cannot see me as he is strapped face upwards to a wooden bench in his cell and he is blindfolded.

“Completely forgiven.” I say, “And I even have a reward for you for teaching me things I will needed to know when I am with my husband.”

“A reward, child? Can you not untie me so I can see it?”

“No,” I say, “It is a reward you can feel and experience.” And I take my hand and spread open the front of his clothing and there at his middle is a small worm as quiet and inoffensive as a sleeping mouse. “Feel the reward uncle.” I say and take his greatest friend in my hand and fondle and caress it, and instantly it starts to fill and grow, and the more I use the very skills he taught me on him the bigger and stiffer it grows. “Do you like your reward Uncle?” I say, and now my mouth is over it, moving up and down as before, and it grows and extends till it is like a great palm tree growing from his middle. “Oh my child!” He groans in his pleasure. “I have taught you well!”

“You have indeed, Uncle.” I say, satisfied now that nothing further I do will make it extend and strain any further and that this is as big as it ever will get, then lean forward and give it one last kiss of appreciation for all I have learned.

In the darkness of his blindfold he does not know that all this while my sister has been beside me and that she is carrying the great scimitar that is normally wielded by the palace executioner.

I step back to give her room and she swings it back and I watch fascinated, as his Rod of Pleasure flies across the room like a bird released from its cage.
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