fandomania | The Adventure continues...

All these eggs have 2 days, 21 hours left. They have very low numbers. Please help these eggs to hatch and grow? I always click and view in return. Thanks.

Our eggs:

The Story:

He didn’t keep me waiting long. I prostrated myself before him in the proper manner. It wasn’t until he told me to rise that I saw him for the first time.

He was tall, almost six foot ten inches tall. And younger than I expected; probably around my age, maybe twenty-four or twenty-five. He had lighter brown skin tones than his mother, but not much lighter. He wore his curly hair long and loose. His face was good-looking, with a mustache and goatee and his aspect seemed happy and kind. That seemed incongruous almost for a royal, when most are overindulged and constantly catered to and allowed to become selfish and incapable of proper human emotions.

When I arose, his eyes seemed to bore into my soul as he inspected me. He then sat down on a lounge chair and requested that I dance for him.

I was very nervous, but I managed to remember the expected choreography. I twirled and suggestively moved my body in ways that were supposed to arouse a man and I gradually removed my clothing as I did so. When I was completely naked, I continued dancing until he signaled that I stop. He then took me onto his lap and kissed me deeply using his tongue to explore my mouth, while his hand explored my private parts. I began to shake visibly. I suppose he took it as a sign of my innocence, but it was in reality a sign of how much I hated him touching me. I wanted to fight him and tell him to stop, but I couldn’t. He continued his exploration and I could feel his arousal. I think that I could have handled this much better if he had just taken me and not tried to give me pleasure in return.

It seemed like an eternity before he carried me to his bed. There he quickly removed his clothes and revealed his very toned and muscular body. I suppose if I hadn’t already loved Donal, Armand could have been considered a good lover, but I didn’t love him and I didn’t want him. All he was doing to me was ruining me for Donal, not that I would ever I would see him again. As Armand continued to make love to me, all I could do was shake and cry. I tried to compose myself and find my safe place, where I could hide as he used me, but I couldn’t find that peace. He was shaking me to the core of my being and I was falling apart. He finally entered me and the pain of his entry made me cry out in anguish. He seemed genuinely perplexed that I was not responding to his lovemaking. The longer he continued the more distraught I became, until, in frustration, he just finished and came inside me. He then withdrew, dressed and left the bedroom. I was still sobbing when two eunuchs came and escorted me back to the hareem. I knew that I was going to be punished for displeasing my master, but I didn’t care. I felt dirty and unclean. All I wanted to do was take a bath and wash every part of me that he touched.

The next day, Florazelle came to see me. I could see that she was upset with me. I abased myself before her and I apologized for disappointing her. I then waited for her sentence. I expected to be banished to the section of the hareem where the unfit women were sent to, where the women were given to soldiers and servants for their pleasures. But she didn’t. She just accepted my apology and then walked away. Later that day, after dinner, she returned and gave me a potion to drink. There didn’t seem to be anything to do other than drink it, so I did. I had the feeling it was supposed to be an aphrodisiac but it had the opposite effect on me. Instead it blissed me out to the point that I didn’t care what happened to me. So when I was escorted back to the Shah’s bedroom, I was so zoned out that whatever Armand did to me, he did, but I was incapable of responding to anything. The result was the same, just without the sobbing.

I expected the axe to fall the next day, and again, it did not. I was not sent again to pleasure my master. I wondered why I wasn’t punished for my failure to please. And then the reason became clear, as I did not fail in another aspect. I missed my next monthly course and had conceived, once again, a child.

While Florazelle was very pleased with the news, I was the opposite. For the first time in my life, I wanted to get rid of the baby inside me. The idea of having any baby other than Donal’s so sickened me that all my thoughts started turning towards ways of aborting it. I tried to find herbs that were known to start a woman’s courses, but I could find none, nor could I bribe a guard to bring me any. I tried to find ways of sickening myself or over-exercising in order to lose the baby, but nothing worked. I even stole someone’s knitting needle and stuck it up inside me in hopes of stabbing the fetus and causing it to die, but it didn’t happen. After a while, I resigned myself to my fate and then realized that there was a better way to achieve my goal and take myself out of my silken prison. I could and would die in childbirth and take my baby with me to my grave. This way, I would only have to feel my shame and humiliation for some more months. The thought of never seeing Donal or my children again was very painful, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that this was for the best. Donal would never have to see how degraded I was and how horribly I had betrayed his love and our marriage vows.

Once I accepted my fate, I began to calm down. I hid my disgust from everyone. I tried to act like any other expectant mother. While there were other women in the hareem that Armand had impregnated, for whatever reason, Florazelle seemed convinced that I was going to be the one to provide her son with the son and heir he so desired. I was pampered and given extra privileges, like being served more nutritious foods and foods that I expressed a craving for. I was given a room of my own within the hareem and a better bed.

Florazelle visited me weekly to check my progress and to give me the benefit of her experience, which brought me much amusement, as Armand was her only child and she was unaware that this baby was my seventh pregnancy and would be my ninth child. But I said nothing to her and let her feel like the loving grandmother that she wanted to be.

And so the months wore on. This pregnancy was as easy and problem free as my last had been. I guess with as many babies as I had had, I was finally getting the hang of making babies. It almost seemed a shame that this was going to be my last baby. But I could not lie with any man again, who was not my husband and the man I loved so desperately. I just couldn’t. Nor did I ever want to feel Donal’s disgust and rejection of me if he were to see me bearing another man’s child.

As I entered my eighth month, it came as a huge surprise to me to wake up late one night and find Uncle Haral standing next to my bed, dressed as a eunuch. “Oh Patra, my dearest niece!” Haral whispered to me vehemently. “At last, we have found you! We have been searching for you everywhere for over a year now and, for once, the trail we were sent on has led us to you! You will be rescued soon and will, once again, be safe in the arms of your family.” I don’t think that he expected me to burst into tears and weep bitterly.