Hassan

Long ago on the peninsula of Arabia there was a Sheik of a small province who was known to his people as Akbar, for he was great in the land and loved by his people.

Now there was a member of the court of Akbar of moderate rank whose name was Hassan who loved to lie with women. Anytime an opportunity was afforded him, even if there was great risk involved, Hassan would lay with any woman that he desired who would have him, and he laid with many for many knew he was a member of the court and found him handsome.

One day it came to pass that Hassan was called into the presence of Akbar who was camped some distance from his home in a barren place, for Jalal of the Mari had made war against him saying, “Akbar has too much at our expense, come, let us take it from him!” So Hassan came into the camp of Akbar and was well received for Akbar trusted him. Then did Akbar said to Hassan, “I cannot leave this place, and all my counselors are here with me. I am concerned as to the welfare of my household, you are among my most trusted, so go to my house and see if all is well, if it is not, set it right, and either way return to me here in this place and tell me of what you have seen.” Hassan obeyed saying, “It is but a little thing you ask of me yo’Sheik and I am happy to do it!”

So Hassan set out immediately for the house of Akbar and arrived there after three days. Hassan looked into all the affairs of the household and saw that all was well.

That evening, sleep escaped Hassan. He was restless to return to Akbar, for he was a man of action and could not abide idleness. He went into the courtyard and reclined there in the crisp night air under a date tree by the running water of a fountain in the hopes that it would lull him into slumber, for he would leave before sunrise for the camp of Akbar.

After some time Hassan lapsed into a light slumber, but awakened again a short while later to the sound of soft, light footsteps proceeding down the footpath of the courtyard near where he lay. He remained silent and looked up to see who it was and what they might be up to. The person passed right next to him seemingly unaware of his presence; it was a woman. She appeared to be wrapped only in a white linen, and her face, hands and feet were completely bare. Lust stirred in Hassan’s loins as he looked on in silence not wanting to give himself away. It was the head of the month and the moon was full, illuminating the courtyard as might a dull twilight, affording him a most excellent view under the circumstances.

Without hesitation she removed the covering from her body revealing her innermost femininity to Hassan as he sat in the shadows. Her light brown skin was utterly smooth and without flaws, the glow of her youth reflecting off of it in the moonlight. Her breasts were large and heavy, crowned with two dark nipples hardened by the night air. Her hair was black as the night of a new moon and flowed down to the large twin orbs of her voluptuous bottom. Her belly was pleasantly round as a woman’s should be, and below it a delightful forest of long black soft hairs grew out from her womanhood.

Setting aside the linen that had enwrapped her on the low wall of the fountain, she dipped her hand into the cool waters below and drew some out bringing it up to her chest. Slowly she let it trickle down between her ample breasts and over her belly finally making its way into and thru the dark fur between her legs. She turned up her head so that it was struck particularly well by the light of the moon as she savored the sensation and Hassan saw that her face was as beautiful as her body. Finding it difficult to contain himself, Hassan began to stroke his manhood underneath his robe.

Once again the object of his lust dipped into the fountain, and this time spread her legs ever so slightly as she let the water cascade over her body. Hassan was pleasuring himself intently now, and suddenly one of his feet shifted into the small stones that lined the footpath of the courtyard. Letting out a little cry, the woman jumped back a couple of inches from where she had stood and looked down to where the noise had originated, instantly discovering Hassan. Their eyes met and she seemed paralyzed with fear. Frozen to the very spot, she was bent slightly over, her hands covering her bosom as she stared at him with wide eyes and mouth agape. Although usually imposing, Hassan wore a similar expression, and his robe had fallen open revealing his completely erect and sizeable phallus.

After a couple of seconds of mutual terror had passed the expression on the woman’s face changed to an amused smile and Hassan wasted no time in pulling her down next to him. With unheard of forwardness she fully opened his robe running her soft delicate hands over his hairy chest and abdomen. Filled with lust Hassan drew her close to him and kissed her with great passion. As soon as their lips had parted she positioned herself so that her head was directly over his manhood and began to lick all over the shaft and head of his erect member. Such unusual behavior! He had not even commanded her to do such a thing, what a right whore she was! But Hassan was not discouraged, unlike in other areas of his life, when it came to sexual congress he cared little for convention or tradition, only for what gave him pleasure, so he was only too happy to lie back and let this creature service him. Suddenly he felt his entire penis engulfed by the woman’s hot wet mouth and throat, and it took a considerable deal of control on his part not to ejaculate down her throat. She pleasured him this way for some few minutes before removing his manhood from her mouth with a loud pop that echoed off the tall stone walls of the courtyard. Wearing a grin from ear to ear she rose up on her knees and attempted to straddle him where he lay. The impudence! Liberal or not, Hassan was not about to let some whore top him. An expression of anger on his face, he quickly pushed her aside, forcing her onto her back and spread her legs. The wide grin was still on her face and a soft titling laugh escaped her throat. Enraged, Hassan rose his hand as if to strike her and the grin vanished altogether. Swiftly she rose up and embraced him tightly, lightly weeping and planted numerous kisses on his chest, so he forgot his anger and proceeded to have intercourse with her.

Hassan made love to the woman for over an hour and she let him enter her however he wished, even in her anus. Thoroughly exhausted Hassan and his lover quickly bathed themselves with water from the fountain by the light of the moon. In whispers she vowed her love for him and begged him to return to her whenever he was able. Hassan agreed to return to her again, but did not vow his love for her. Many times had a woman said such things and it meant little to him. In truth he was surprised such a whore would be so presumptuous, didn’t she realize he was a nobleman? Both made their way as quietly as possible back to their respective quarters having already put themselves at great a risk for so long.

Hassan fell into a deep sleep once back in his chambers and the attendant had some difficulty rousing him a few hours later.

Hassan mounted his steed fully supplied at twilight and rode off towards the border where Akbar was camped to give his master the good news that his household was indeed in good order. At first his encounter with the whore weighed heavy on his mind. Who was she? Was she a noblewoman? Had anyone seen them? Were they both in peril of their lives? But, as Hassan rode his spirit improved and he decided that she surely could not have been more than a maid, what noblewoman would conduct herself in such a way? Surely she had been culled from the lowest of the low.

As midday approached Hassan was nearing the watering hole of Jabba and when he came upon it he took refuge from the heat under the tall palms that grew around the pond of cold water where it welled up from deep underground. While his horse drank and rested, Hassan reclined against one of the palms, unwrapped the cloth from about his face and drank from his skins while he enjoyed the cool wind that blew off the surface of the pond.

In the heat of the day Hassan fell into a light sleep, only to awaken abruptly a short time later. He had a strange feeling he was not alone and felt something off to his side. Swiftly turning his head in that direction, a voice suddenly came from directly in front of him. Jerking his head immediately back to its former position, Hassan saw the figure of a wizened old man standing before him, he looked as though he had seen a hundred years pass in his lifetime and his beard grew long and white down to his waist. “Salaam Hassan!” the old man said in a tiny high-pitched and hoarse voice. Startled, Hassan let out a small cry, but quickly grew ashamed of himself when he realized that not only had this feeble old man approached him unawares, but had also caused him to cry out like a woman. “Father, you are lucky I did not strike you down! Have you not learned in all your years to not come upon a man so?” exclaimed Hassan in an attempt to reclaim his masculinity.

“Listen Hassan,” said the old man, ignoring Hassan’s words. “Beware of Akbar and his household, you are about to lose what you value most!” the old man continued. “How do you know of me and my business?!” exclaimed Hassan. “Who are you!? Surely you are a spy for the Mari!” continued Hassan.

“I am Ali Bin Azari of the House of Sha’haz’ri, but that is unimportant, I am not of your generation, mark well my words Hassan!” replied the old man. “You are a liar! There have been no Sha’haz’ri here since the time of my grandfather!” exclaimed Hassan angrily. Then, from behind him, Hassan heard his horse suddenly cry out as though wounded. He looked around to see what the trouble was, but the animal appeared unharmed, although most disturbed. Thinking it must be a snake, Hassan rose to go and slay it, but first looked back to the old man thinking he would slay him first, he must be a spy! But the old man was nowhere to be seen. Forgetting his horse for the moment, Hassan ran about searching for the old man in vain. How could he have left no footprints! To make matters worse, there was no evidence of a snake going upon the ground either. Listening, all Hassan could hear was the wind blowing across the desert and the snorting of his horse.

A sinking feeling of dread came over Hassan. Had this been some kind of Gin or other spirit? Much afraid, he quickly drew all the water his skins would hold from the pond and mounted his steed. Turning his horse towards the camp of Akbar, he let the fistful of sand he had gathered up from the ground a moment before slowly slip thru his fingers, and prompting the stallion to full gallop spit behind himself in the direction of Jabba, vowing to never return there.

He reached the camp of Akbar a full day earlier than planned. That, combined with his disheveled and troubled appearance caused the court to think some disaster had befallen Akbar’s household. When he was brought before his Sheik however and related the good news, Akbar questioned him immediately as to his sorry state. “When I was not far from your home, I rested at Jabba, and as I slept under a palm, a Gin appeared before me and told me I should beware, and vanished without a trace!” There was copious muttering about the court, surely it was a bad omen. “What did the spirit warn of?” asked Akbar, obviously distressed. “That I should beware for you and your house!” lied Hassan. “Of what should we beware!?” exclaimed Akbar growing more distressed by the moment. “It did not say!” lied Hassan once again.

Now the entire camp was troubled the next day when a messenger arrived from a short distance away saying that Akbar’s men had routed the Mari and were bringing back the head of Jalal with them, after which there was great rejoicing and most forgot about Hassan and his strange tale. When the army of Akbar returned they feasted most heartily with Akbar and his court for the entirety of the next day, and even Hassan forgot about his ordeal.

II

Akbar and his court returned to their respective properties, and upon entering his house, Akbar found that all was very well as Hassan had reported. He thought nothing more of Hassan’s Gin, dismissing it as talk borne of desert sickness.

Before long a trusted servant within the household of Akbar spoke to him alone saying to Akbar, “O yo’Sheik, have I not served you well since my childhood?” “Indeed.” replied Akbar. “Have you ever known any falsehood to pass from my lips?” persisted the servant. “What is it! Tell me now!” shouted Akbar, growing impatient with his servant’s groveling. “Please know that anything I say to you now is only out of my great love for you yo’Sheik, but all is not well within this house.” answered the servant. “Say it now plainly or I shall have your tongue!” shouted Akbar. “It is your wife o sheik!” replied the servant shaking with fear. “She has betrayed you!” the servant continued, his voice shaking, and ran from the room. Akbar rose up in anger sending the tea and the tray that it rested upon in front of him flying. He would have killed many for saying such a thing, but the servant was truly beloved and he could not bring himself to slay him. Instead, Akbar believed him, and had his guards drag the man back into the royal chambers as he wept thinking his life was at an end. Akbar reassured his trusted servant that he would come to no harm, and reminded him of his sacred duty to his Sheik, pressing him to tell all that he knew. “Yo’Sheik I swear I could not sleep the night your courtier Hassan was here, and paced my chamber that overlooks your courtyard trying to weary myself to slumber when I heard a noise from below and looked to see what was the matter. O! Yo’Sheik I saw a Hassan and a woman well engaged in intercourse by the fountain, they soon concluded their congress and bathed with water from the fountain. As she was washing herself, the woman looked up to the sky, and o yo’Sheik I saw it was your wife, Fatima!” related the servant as he wept bitterly. What other man could have told such a tale? None, thought Akbar. The servant had been a eunuch since boyhood, his testicles crushed by a horse when he was only twelve; it was how had come into Akbar’s service in the first place. Besides Akbar and Fatima’s father and brothers, the servant was the only man ever to see Fatima’s face. Truly it was providence that this man had witnessed her offense against him, it allowed him to spare a fine servant while at the same time freeing him to wreak whatever revenge he pleased on poor Hassan.

At first Akbar was sure he would slay Hassan, but as he thought about it, a different far sweeter revenge came to mind. Not saying a word to anyone that would lead them to think he knew of his wife’s crime, Akbar sent for the alchemist Mussawa to be brought for a private audience before him. It was two days before Mussawa was standing before Akbar, for he lived far from the house of his Sheik.

Akbar related what had happened to Mussawa, making him swear a blood oath that the alchemist would reveal the tale to no one. “I want his member removed, but not in the ordinary way, I want him to be long suffering as it rots away from his body!” said Akbar to Mussawa the alchemist. “Something comes to mind yo’Sheik, I am sure I can do what you ask.” replied Mussawa. “Go to your labors! I have waited long enough! My heart burns for justice!” shouted Akbar.

A month passed before Mussawa was able to ready his offering for presentation and travel back to his Sheik. He entered the royal chambers with his assistants, ready to present his solution to Akbar. As Akbar entered the room, he saw a shallow tank made of glass sitting on the floor filled with murky water in which floated what looked to be some kind of reed or leaves. “These are rare reeds from the marshes far to the south of Babylonia.” began Mussawa. “Take these from the tank, but once out of the water do not fail moisten them regularly. Have a person who is expert in the art of basket weaving weave them into a compact ring that is the diameter of Hassan’s erect member. Then place the ring around the base of his member while it is erect. Make sure Hassan stays erect for an hour, after that the ring will have shrunk so that he cannot remove it, and it will continue to shrink until he will find necessary to cut his member from his body long before the ring does!” concluded the alchemist. “This is most excellent!” exclaimed Akbar, and rewarded Mussawa well for his efforts.

Then Akbar called upon his trusted courtier who had been allowed to take the name of Abdul Akbar, for he had been of great service to his Sheik. Now Abdul Akbar was most expert in the art of infiltration, interrogation and deception in times of war, and Akbar chose him because of his skill in these matters to implement the methods by which the ring would be placed about Hassan’s member. Once alone with Akbar, Abdul Akbar was told of Fatima’s crime, as well as Akbar’s plan for justice, and did not have to be reminded to keep what he heard in confidence, for it was his nature to do so.

A plan formed quickly in the cunning mind of Abdul Akbar, and he wasted no time putting it into action.

III

Hassan noticed that of late for the first time in his life women were regularly refusing to lay with him. He looked long and hard in the mirror, thinking perhaps he had grown old and ugly, or perhaps fat, but he could find nothing different about himself and lay in his bed frustrated, having to resort to pleasuring himself.

As he grew erect in his own hand, a girl he had recently taken off the streets for his amusement under the guise that she would be his cleaning woman burst into his chamber and began sweeping. She was clad only in the flimsiest of garments and her face, feet and hands were uncovered. Hassan was so filled with lust at the sight of her practically nude body as it gyrated about the room that he gave no thought as to the state of her dress and rose naked from his bed, seized hold of her, and attempted to lay with her. Although she had avoided him only yesterday at every turn, she now kissed him passionately causing Hassan to rip the thin wrap from about her body and have vigorous intercourse with her upon the floor. When he paused to carry her to his bed she took the opportunity to remove the alchemist’s ring that was hidden in the thick long locks of her hair behind her head. Once abed, Hassan proceeded with the same vigor he had before, and because of his frustration, soon shot a copious load of seed within her.

Whilst he lay back on the bed recovering, it occurred to him that he should avail himself of his present opportunity as many times as possible, before, for whatever reason, this girl too turned cold to him. “Here!” his lover said, slipping the ring over his still erect penis. “This will let you love me all of the evening!” Hassan looked down to see what she had placed about his member and saw the ring at the base of his manhood. His large penis throbbed even harder under the pressure of the ring instead of going limp as it might after such a vital encounter, and Hassan welcomed the effect.

With the pressure of the ring aiding him at every turn, Hassan was able to have intercourse twice more with the young girl before finally falling asleep utterly exhausted.

When he awoke some three hours later, he found he was still painfully erect and immediately tried to remove the ring from his throbbing penis. He picked at it over and over again but could not get a grip on it. It was fairly small and had sunk deep into the flesh at the base of his rod. Although pleasant in a way, it was growing more painful by the moment, and he spent some time trying to remove it in vain.

At that moment his young charge once again burst into the room unannounced, and looking at his huge erect penis exclaimed, “How beautiful!” “Damn you bitch! What have you done to me!?” snapped Hassan. “Don’t be angry my love!” replied his young and still completely nude lover. “As soon as you are truly sated it will slide off! I swear I tell the truth, I’ve used one before!” squeaked his enthusiastic “maid”. “Come, I use to work at a brothel, let’s go there! I know a dozen girls who would be glad to lay with you free of charge, and I will lay with you again as well!” she added.

Hassan’s head was so clouded by the offer of so many easily had women after so long a drought that he agreed to her proposal. They arrived at the brothel without incident and once inside Hassan saw that it was everything his young maid had promised it to be. One after another he had intercourse with the women there of all shapes and sizes and even twice more with his maid. After only the second woman his balls had emptied of ejaculate but he continued to have intercourse until the dawn, convinced that his penis would collapse at some point. Instead it was bloated almost beyond recognition now, almost twice it’s normal size.

Hassan wept from the pain in his member and he saw that it was almost black in color. The women had tied his hands behind him at some point during the night as slept between couplings and he found he couldn’t free himself without help. It was then he saw his young maid standing over him in all her naked beauty. “Oh my love! It just needs a little more attention!” she cooed as she reached down and squeezed his dying member one last time. Hassan screamed with pain as the young girl tightened her grip, and the sides of his terribly bloated penis split open, his blood running out of it and down his sides. “Cut it from his body before he dies!” screamed the young girl smiling. One of the older whores came into the room with a dagger, took hold of Hassan’s split and bleeding organ and severed it clean just above the ring, which grew even tighter around the wound cutting off the flow of blood and saving his life.

“Know this Hassan Bin Lafia.” said the old whore. “You have laid with the wife of Sheik Akbar, and he has spared your life. In its place he has taken what you value most and left your balls hanging so that you may suffer unquenched desire for your greatest pleasure all of your days!” she concluded. Hassan began to weep bitterly before he lost consciousness.

Thus is the fate of one who would betray his Sheik.

End