The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirty-Six: The Gamble of the Warrior - Sex Stories

The Battered Lamp Chapter Thirty-Six: The Gamble of the Warrior

... murder in her eyes. “Stop!” Rashid barked. “You will not harm him.” “Give me this one thing, my husband,” his mother hissed. “Let his death be your bridal gift to me!” “I have already made you Sultana! Kyle's death was not part of our agreement.” Rashid stared at Kyle's mother. “You will submit to me, wife, or a prison can be found for you as well!” His possessed mother faced the Marid Sultan for a moment. “I shall be an obedient wife,” his mother purred, throwing the dagger to the floor. “I apologize. My mistress has been greatly wronged by these two mortals. I let that cloud my mind.” “Hecate will just have to be patient. He is mortal. One day he shall die.” Rashid faced his homunculi and commanded, “Fit him with a sapphire collar and take him and his wife to their new apartment.” The sapphire collar was cold around his neck. The water homunculi, their grip clammy, dragged him through the palace. A third carried the immobile form of his wife cradled in its arms. The corridors were lined with Marid witnessing his humiliation. “So this is the mortal that thought he could defeat our great sultan,” sneered a richly dressed courtier, his beard oiled. “What a deluded fool.” Kyle hung his head. Every derisive word and sneering insult stabbed into him. Marids doused the flicker of hope he had felt when Makerah had attacked. He was beaten. He sank into his thoughts, not even hearing their jeering insults any longer. “Greetings, Kyle Unmei,” an older, plainly dressed Marid said, ...

... waiting at a sapphire door. “I am Abu Bakir, your custodian. He opened the door. “This entire wing is constructed of sapphire.” A smaller, sapphire room lay behind the door. The homunculi squeezed through, their bodies flowing around the frame as they dragged him through. Once the door was closed behind him, the jailer walked to the other door and opened it. A short, diamond hallway led to a diamond door. Through that door was a small, diamond room. “Your quarters are made entirely of diamond, surrounded by sapphire. These doors shall only be opened one at a time.” Kyle understood. There would be no opening for him to contact Aaliyah or for a Djinn to teleport him out of his cell. It was a prison designed to hold powerful beings. The constructs pulled him into the diamond room. “This is your apartment,” the jailer declared, throwing open the last, diamond door. “If you ever need anything, I will be in here. Your every want will be provided for. We have brought many comforts from your world.” He bowed. “Thanks,” Kyle muttered. He was thrown into his cell, landing on a rich, woven carpet. Christy was set beside him. One homunculi remained, standing before the door of the cell. Though it was hard to call such a richly appointed room a cell. A large bed draped with a silk canopy rested in one corner, shelves full of books lined the walls, and a pile of cushions were strewn before a flat screen TV and an Xbox. On a small, dark table sat a platter of dates and cheese. It was almost ...