Servant of Desire (The Battered Lamp 2)(Harem Genie erotica) Read Free Page B

shit!” she gasped. “I didn't think you'd...shit!”
    “Do not be alarmed,” Aaliyah smiled, and sensed her thoughts. Fear, alarm, and surprise mixed together. She's afraid I'll tell her mother. She's supposed to be at college. “I will not tell your mother.”
    Fatima's relieved breath came out in an audible whoosh. “Well, um, good. So I need to, uh... Yeah.”
    She was flustered, gathering her thoughts. Aaliyah reached out and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Let's have a ta—”
    “What the hell is that!” Fatima shrieked, pointing at one of her homunculi. It was squat, maybe a foot tall— what a curious measurement— and made of gray-brown dust, vaguely shaped like a human.
    “A servant,” Aaliyah answered. “Cleaning the house.”
    “But...how...” Fatima's mouth worked soundlessly.
    “I am a Djinn. Of the Jann tribe.”
    “A Djinn? A Genie?”
    Aaliyah sighed inwardly. Could no one in this land pronounce her people's name properly? “Yes. Kyle freed me from my slumber and now I am his wife.”
    The Djinn felt a stab of jealously followed by shame from the young woman. How very curious, Aaliyah thought as she picked apart Fatima's thoughts. “Come on, let's have a nice cup of tea and talk.”
    Aaliyah took her hand, warm, soft; heat flushed in her nethers. Fatima was pretty, a budding flower promising to become a great beauty. While Kyle was the first man the Djinn had lain with, he wasn't the first person. She had learned the delights that could be found with another woman in her father's harem. It was the only proper way for a woman to relieve her desires if her husband or master's affections cannot be obtained. Fatima had beautiful eyes and dusky skin, and her body did so ache for her husband's touch.
    Fatima's room was a little smaller than Kyle's and cluttered. Clothes were strewn everywhere—Fatima blushed and began snatching dirty panties off the floor—and paintings of cute boys covered the walls. She had never seen such lifelike paintings before. They looked so real, like the images on the computer and, curiously, words were drawn on them with strange names: Justin Bieber, One Direction, Big Time Rush.
    A minute later several homunculi tottered in carrying a steaming teapot, a spicy scent filling the air. Aaliyah took several pillows off her bed and sat on the floor. Fatima sat across from her and the Djinn had a lovely view up the young woman's skirt to her panties tight across her feminine treasure.
    “How can you wear that?” Fatima asked. “I can see everything. It's so indecent.”
    Aaliyah looked down at her yellow silks. “This is a harem dress,” she answered. “For my husband's pleasure. I would not wear this where another man could see me. But you show all that leg to complete strangers. Where I come from, that would be most indecent.”
    “This skirt goes down to my knees! I have skirts that are far shorter.”
    The homunculi finished pouring. The tea was warm and spicy and Aaliyah savored it. “What is Kyle like?”
    Fatima snorted and then choked on her tea. “You're the one fucking him.”
    “Well, yes, but we just met.”  Aaliyah took another sip. Delicious. “He seems like a kind man, and loves his girlfriend very much.” Girlfriend. What a strange word.
    “I thought he did, and then he married you.”
    Jealousy radiated from the girl. She loves him. Perhaps she would make an excellent wife. “Kyle shall have more than one wife. This Christy seems like a likely candidate, and I eagerly await meeting her. I hope we can be the fastest of friends, sharing in our love for him.”
    Fatima stared in stunned amazement at the Djinn. “That's crazy. You can only have one wife.”
    “Why?”
    “I...I don't know,” Fatima spluttered. “You just can't.”
    “What were you thinking about in the shower?” Aaliyah asked, probing the young woman's feelings. Kyle seemed unwilling to expand his harem, and a great man needed one to prove the power he