Date: Tue, 13 Sep 2016 18:46:29 +0000 (UTC)
From: simon peter <simon23232@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Prince and his Harem Part 19

Dear Reader

The names and places in this story are all fictitious.

If you feel like sending me a comment, negative or positive, please do so:
simon23232@yahoo.com

I would love to read your comments and suggestions.

Also, very importantly, please donate to keep nifty going. Thanks.

Simon

Note: Some of my friends/readers are sending comments and suggestions
regarding the prince series.

Special thanks to Nat and to Graham. Graham gave me Frankie. He is going to
pick up Frankie once he gets back to the States and give a life there...


The Prince and his Harem Part 19

By Simon Peter


"He dies!"

Prince Hamed stood in the center of his uncle's hall, his slim and young
teen body shaking, Omar the eunuch bound and lying at his feet.

"Painfully," the young prince added, trying to control his voice.

Igor, Ivan, Rasheed and Frankie, the prince's tech team and friends, gazed
at the floor as Hamed's uncle, Sheikh Nahed, scratched his head and
regarded his nephew. The atmosphere was charged with electricity.

The evening before, Omar had tried to assassinate the prince. Had it not
been for Frankie the American, who had shouted a warning when he glimpsed
the eunuch attack Hamed with a knife, Hamed would have been seriously
injured, if not dead.

Hamed was shaking with anger. His waist was bandaged where the eunuch
struck, fortunately causing minor damage when Hamed moved aside at
Frankie's warning. Frankie had thrown himself at Omar, causing the knife
stab to miss Hamed's chest and graze the side of the prince's waist. By
this time, the other boys had mobilized and overwhelmed Omar, forcing away
the deadly knife and pinning the eunuch to the ground. They had tied him up
and dragged him to Sheikh Nahed's house as Frankie tried his best to tend
to Hamed's wound which proved to be superficial.

Sheikh Nahed, Hamed's uncle, reclined on his cushions and regarded his
nephew. He had been taking care of the young prince ever since Hamed lost
his parents in a car accident when he was a ten-year- old boy. Now Nahed
looked with pride at the 17-year young man as he stood regally, demanding
the death of the eunuch servant.

"Omar deserves to die," Nahed said thoughtfully. "But consider, my boy,
that the outcome may not be as we desire. We don't want our secrets to be
advertised, which they will if this becomes public. Let me deal with the
assassin."

"But he dies," Hamed insisted.

Sheikh Nahed picked up the phone and called his friend, Sheikh Ramzi, the
Minister of Interior.

"Why is your uncle calling the sleazy minister?" Imre whispered in Hamed's
ear.

Hamed shrugged and waited.

Around 15 minutes later, Ramzi stormed into the hall.

"Is the prince ok?" Ramzi said, out of breath. "Thank the Almighty," he
added when he saw Hamed standing over Omar, Imre beside him.

Sheikh Ramzi went through the usual greeting and listened as Hamed related
the events, shaking his head and glaring at the whimpering eunuch.

"He dies," Hamed repeated, glaring at the two sheikhs.

"This can't go public," Sheikh Nahed reminded them, to the benefit of the
minister.

Ramzi nodded agreement. "I can take care of it, no publicity. The eunuch
will disappear. Pufft! Leave it up to me."

At a nod from the minister, two of his guards dragged the pleading Omar
outside as everyone in the hall watched.

"Now that we have taken care of the ugly business," Ramzi leered at Imre,
"why don't I and the Nigerian have a little talk in private, if Sheikh
Nahed doesn't mind?"

Nahed smiled. "No problem at all. Why don't you use my study, Ramzi? I'll
make sure you have total privacy for your talk."

Ramzi bowed and dragged the scowling Imre behind him. The boys very well
knew that Ramzi was going to get his ass plowed raw by the Nigerian's
monster cock.

"Uncle," Hamed reclined next to Sheikh Nahed after all the others had left
and Imre was fucking the minister in the room next door, "don't you think
that we have to do something about the slaves and servants?"

"What are you suggesting, my boy?" said Nahed tenderly, for he loved his
nephew like a son and cared for his well-being. He had raised Hamed and
made sure that he was being trained to become a leader.

And now this assassination attempt.

"I was thinking, uncle, that it doesn't really pay to buy slaves. When I
was in New York, I tried to locate a secret slave market but I
couldn't. Frankie told me that it was a serious offense there and that
their government does not like other governments that condone
slavery. Also, there are organizations for human rights and the like that
look for cases of slavery and report them to the international community."

"I am aware of all this," Sheikh Nahed nodded. "But we always make sure
that our operations are kept secret."

"Well, maybe before. But now after the eunuch's attempt to kill me, things
may become public. I feel that we should do something to preempt this and
save us from the wrath of the outside world once this goes public."

Sheikh Nahed scratched his head. There were moans and grunts from the next
room. Ramzi must be having his ass really pounded by Imre.

"I can see, my boy, that you are mature and responsible. And I can see the
sense of all of what you are saying. What do you propose?"

"You know, uncle, that when Frankie came here, he was able to teach us a
lot of things about IT. And since we are working at the Ministry of
Interior and because of my new position as Officer, we have been able to
get into people's emails and messages."

Hamed made sure not to mention the hidden camera in the illicit slave
market run by Sheikh Fahed, The Place.

"Oh? Snooping? Blackmail?" Nahed was quick to frown.

"If it's the government," Hamed quickly justified, "then it's not blackmail
or snooping, is it? It's working for the betterment of the society, don't
you think?"

"And all this was taught to you by your old tutor, Master Houman?"

"Master Houman is very wise. He doesn't tell me, but he makes me reach my
own conclusions. And I have reached the conclusion that it is for all our
benefit to do something about the situation, especially after last night's
incident with Omar."

"Then Sheikh Ramzi would have to know," Nahed considered.

"Yes. I have thought about that. The minister needs to know and brought
over to our side. Could you do something about it?"

Nahed and Hamed turned as the minister entered the hall, followed by
Imre. Ramzi had a wide grin on his face, beads of sweat on his forehead.

"You know, Hamed? You have got a jewel in this Nigerian. He almost made my
eyeballs pop out of their sockets as he thrust deeper and deeper."

They laughed, including Imre, who had lost his scowl after fucking Ramzi's
ass. In a weird way, Imre had started to like fucking the slimy
minister. He would get all sorts of compliments, and the power he felt over
Ramzi was incomparable.

"Minister," Hamed smiled, "I'm glad that you are enjoying my Imre."

"Yes," Ramzi licked his lips and scratched his butt, "I am."

Sheikh Nahed cleared his throat. "Ramzi," he started, "it looks like we
should start reconsidering this slave thing."

"Slave thing? Do you mean Hamed's Nigerian?"

"As one of many. I mean the whole enterprise, from Sheikh Fahed's The Place
to your and my harems."

"I don't understand, Nahed. What exactly is on your mind?"

"My nephew, Hamed, has drawn my attention to how the world outside the
Jewel would look at the slave trade here."

"What concern have we with the world outside? Our slaves are treated
fairly. We feed them and clothe them and ..."

"But, minister, they are all here against their will," Hamed said.

"They are minors. They don't have a will, as you call it, young prince."

"Exactly. Minors. Kidnapped. Beaten. Enslaved. Fucked. Minors." Hamed
glowered at the minister for the self-evident fact that minors should not
be kept against their will as slaves.

"Hey, Nigerian boy," Ramzi called to Imre. "Come sit here beside me, boy."

Imre sat himself down on the silk cushions next to the minister, a smirk on
his cute black face, his white teeth glittering. Hamed thought Imre was the
cutest, smartest, most handsome boy alive, and he was his lover.

Ramzi patted Imre's black thigh and said: "Tell me, boy. Have you been
treated badly here?"

"Imre is not the issue, Sheikh Ramzi," Hamed interceded and was answered
with glares from both his uncle and the minister. He was still the younger
one and should have waited to be addressed.

"No, minister," Imre said. "The prince treats all of us extremely nicely."

"And what about me? Have I mistreated you?"

Imre glanced down at the minister's flabby body hidden by his robe. He
ached to tell him that fucking him was no pleasure. Actually, at first, it
seemed like torture. But he knew that he had a role to play in achieving
their scheme and he realized the importance of his answer to the success of
their operation.

If entailed fucking the minister, so be it.

"Minister, you have been more than fair. But as you know, I have been
kidnapped and beaten before coming here. Only very few 'masters' treat
their slaves the way Prince Hamed treats us." Then he added mischievously,
"And the way you have enjoyed me has been beyond imagination."

"Very diplomatic and flattering," Sheikh Nahed said approvingly. "But
Ramzi, with the eunuch incident and his attack on Hamed, the matter might
very easily go public. I was considering that we do something to set us
apart from the whole business. Besides, Hamed, here, tells me that his boys
are not slaves anymore. So you and I should do the same."

"Let me think about it," Ramzi scratched his head. "The young prince has a
valid point and I agree that things cannot remain secret for long."

"Minister," Hamed could not keep silent any more. "My team and I at the
ministry would like to propose something very important regarding the
matter if you agree to my uncle's suggestion."

"Patience, young one. I will think on it," Ramzi said. Then he smiled,
licked his lower lip and turned to Imre, "The Nigerian will spend the night
at my place."

So that was the price, Hamed was thinking. The sleazy minister wanted
Hamed's lover for the whole night. He wasn't satisfied with a quick
fuck. Hamed gazed at Imre, as if apologizing, but Imre nodded and smiled
his assent.

"It's a privilege, Minister. We will have all night to think about it,"
Imre said rubbing Ramzi's thigh, his white robe tenting.

"Naughty boy," Ramzi laughed grabbing Imre's crotch, marveling at the size
of the cock that he had gotten addicted to. His ass cavity didn't seem to
get satisfied except with the Nigerian's black cock filling it, stretching
and pounding only as a 16-year-old hung boy could.

Back in the tent, the boys were waiting impatiently.

"Well?" Igor asked the second Hamed entered the tent, tall and handsome and
jubilant.

"Where's Imre?" Frankie asked as he saw Hamed alone, not followed by the
Nigerian.

Hamed smiled. "Sheikh Ramzi has taken him home with him for the night."

Rasheed gave one of his rare laughs as he held Frankie around the
waist. "Imre is going to have one sore of a cock!"

"Serves him right, the way he keeps bragging about it," Frankie joined,
leaning over and kissing the Turk's neck. The two young men were
inseparable now.

"So what happened?" Igor repeated.

"It's a go!" Hamed jumped in the air, giving vent to his joy at how things
had gone.

"Details," Ivan shouted among the whoops of joy and appreciation.

"Both my uncle and Sheikh Ramzi have agreed to think about it and devise a
plan."

"We have a plan of our own," Frankie said.

"True," agreed the prince. "But we need the power to carry it through. Now,
we have some power, and Imre is making sure it goes deep."

"How about a celebration?" Igor said as the boys laughed, imagining Imre's
huge cock invading the minister's ass over and over.

"In the oasis," Ivan grabbed Igor's butt. "But without Imre's monster cock
and Omar's snooping eyes this time."

Rasheed added, glancing at Frankie and hugging him closer: "We will miss
Imre's dick but we can depend on Frankie's quick reactions... and Frankie's
butt."

"Aw, Rashi," Frankie said jokingly... but with traces of love.

They left to the oasis, shed off their robes and jumped into the cool water
pond. In no time, the young boys were at each others' bodies and lips and
cocks and asses.

"Slaves no more!" Hamed splashed everybody.

The four boys splashed Hamed back and fell on him. The boy-frolicking went
on well into the starry desert night. And there was no Omar to snoop.