The sun rose high on October of 1701 and Agrabah, though still hot, had cooled with the crisp breeze of fall. Noblemen of Austria and England, along with Agrabah's Sultan, sat outside under the morning sky at a rounded table. Chattering sounded from the group while songbirds sang from the bird bath, a few feet from the beautifully decorated patio.
Cruella rubbed at her temples, and Tobias looked half asleep at the table; the two having had way too much to drink the night before and blackout sex, of which neither hardly remembered. But they felt the aftermath of it now. And weren't very good conversationalists at the moment.
Which Elijah and Henrietta made up for, talking away with Jafar, making light conversation and idle chatter. Ettie, kept a flirtatious eye out for Jafar, enjoying her time with him to herself the past fifteen minutes. Then, to her dismay, the Queen appeared through the white bricked archway, dressed in a beautiful gold and turquoise long-sleeved dress; tresses falling loosely over her breasts with a gilded headband that held back her hair, revealing glowing skin. And Ettie steamed with envy, watching how Jafar's mouth fell open upon seeing his young wife, too distracted to even finish taking his bite.
"Jasmine! Come sit darling –." Cruella lifted her head too fast though, and nearly hurled, shouting out for a servant to bring her a blasted glass of gin.
"More booze?" Jasmine said, ignoring the chair that was next to Jafar, coming to sit by her friend instead.
"The hair of the dog, darling."
A deep throat cleared, and Jasmine paused pulling out the seat. Her husband gave a silent threat that said she better get her ass back where it belonged – next to him. Jafar patted the rim of the decorated chair, and Jasmine gave a fake smile; which he returned tenfold.
"Of course, dear," Jasmine said in a sticky sweet tone, fighting to keep her eyes from rolling, then took place at his right side.
"I trust you slept well, my love," Jafar took Jasmine's hand and kissed the back of it, then brought it under the table to crush it; the death grip making her knuckles pop.
Jasmine grit her teeth, whispering "Ow," before he let her pull away. Privately, Jasmine rubbed away the injury still keeping a smile to her guests; that's when she noticed Ettie across the way. Of course, she hadn't left yet, Jafar probably asked the witch to move in. The English woman of course looked nice and well put together, and Jasmine was elated she'd made the choice herself to come to breakfast presentable – No matter how ill Jasmine felt from last night's indulgence. This wasn't a competition of course, Jasmine could care less who Jafar found prettier; but it was the principal of the matter that counted.
"Where are your usual robes, you look… different." Jasmine asked the dark man, wanting to keep any silence from forming. All his customary garments were gone, now wearing an all-black thobe with gold linings on it, black harem pants, and a wrapped turban to match, with a gold feather in the center.
"I'm the Sultan now, my wife. I should dress like one." He declared taking some cheese from the center, then looked to her with a smirk, amused that she was checking him out as much as he was her, "Do you have a problem with that, my Queen?"
Why did he have to add 'my' to the beginning of each title he gave her. She belonged to no one. Certificate or not.
Jasmine shrugged a shoulder, smiling sugary sweet then fell silent, unsure what else to say, and more than anything feeling sick to her stomach from too much drink.
"Well I think you look extremely handsome my liege," Ettie piped in. Then her and Elijah carried on with Jafar in conversation, as Jasmine lost interest, now fascinated with Cruella's steel gut; the boney woman throwing back more gin.
Hair of the dog huh? Jasmine reached for an empty glass, and held it up for a servant to fill with wine. But before it touched her lips, Jafar's massive hand had covered the top, forcing her to set it down. It was beyond difficult to not throw it in his face as Jasmine looked up in horror. But he remained blank, handing her a glass of water instead. They shared a heated look, and Jasmine could hear his voice in her head saying, 'go ahead I dare you to test me little girl.'
Whatever. Jasmine rolled her eyes then complied by taking the damn water, which made the corners of Jafar's mouth tick with enjoyment.
Asshole. You're not my father. But Jasmine drank it down quickly anyway, not realizing how parched she'd been, then took down another glass, feeling a little more like herself.
Ettie never took her eyes off the pair, and decided it best to make her own mark in this relationship. To let this, Jasmine woman, know that Jafar was hers first, and always would be. "So, how did you two end up getting together, your highness," the question was directed to Jafar, but Jasmine scoffed answering for her husband.
"Trust me, it's a long story…"
"Mm?" Ettie swallowed her wine, and cut into bread, "Jafar and I have a long story of our own too, don't we?"
He paused looking up from his plate. Although Ettie took his glare into consideration, she went on, smiling and speaking in a manner of feigned politeness to Jasmine.
"Why I was just a girl when Jafar came to England to meet with my father," She touched Elijah's arm.
"Elijah is your father?" Jasmine inquired reaching for the wine again, but Jafar took it before Jasmine could lift it to her mouth, placing it far from her reach as if she were a naughty child.
"Mm- Hmm. Daddy and Jafar go way back. They had a falling out for a while, but since Sultan Hamed stepped down, things are back to normal, almost like the good old days."
Jafar over chewed his food, finding difficulty to swallow, too focused on envisioning ripping out Ettie's tongue to make her shut the hell up.
The blonde was pleased with herself at the look Jasmine gave, and wanted to keep going, "But back then Jafar had hair."
"No shit!?" Cruella suddenly came to life, startling everyone.
"Yes," Henrietta looked to Jafar with a flirtatious smile, "It was thick, and long, and so, so soft. I just miss it. You should stop shaving your head, you know. "
Go. Fuck. Yourself. Bitch. Jasmine hummed inside her head.
She never knew Jafar had hair, didn't even know he was bald, but expected as much with all the layers he always wore. She'd shave her head too if she was slugging around in those monumental robes and cape.
Still, Jasmine didn't want to hear about Ettie's past with him…or how the slut knew Jafar's hair was soft…
"My, my, Jafar. That would give a girl something to grab onto during a crazy ride," Cruella winked at Jasmine.
Jasmine's eyes darted to the drunk. Seriously? Cruella just answered Jasmine's question, instilling a vision of Ettie riding Jafar's cock as she pulled his hair. That was enough to make her sick for a week, and Jasmine pushed away her food.
"Perhaps we can move on to less distasteful topics," Jafar said waving his knife in Ettie's direction. She shrugged lightly, and Elijah seconded that notion.
The conversation went on boringly, as Jasmine stole some of Cruella's gin, feeling more defiant than ever, while her over controlling husband was too lost in conversation with his lover to notice her antics. It wasn't until the discussion of gutter rats and prostitutes arose, that the Queen found herself tuned in.
"Whores are people too..." Jasmine said softly, and Jafar's smile faded, turning now to his otherwise silent wife.
"Well of course…" Ettie laughed, looking around the table for support, "I never said they weren't people."
"Oh, then, forgive my misunderstanding…"
Ettie slyly mocked, "How on earth did you gather that from what I said, your highness?"
"I read between the lines." Jasmine said coldly, and refused to look away from the stupid blonde woman.
Elijah interrupted the threatening stare Jasmine was giving his daughter, "Well of course they're humans, of sort… Just a lesser species than those around this table." Elijah chuckled in his thick accent, stabbing a finger atop the granite.
"That's debatable," Jasmine mumbled but it was heard by all.
"My Queen, I don't mean to disrespect your opinion; however, these street rats, and whores, have less value than that of a mule's. They chose their paths."
Jasmine scoffed, looking over at Elijah. "And those children that are left in the streets. I suppose they chose their destiny simply by being born?"
"A consequence of their parent's sin's my Queen. We all atone for our decisions in some form or another."
"Those people, don't choose to starve to death. They don't choose to be raped, beaten, have unclean water, or fall ill because they live with rodents. In most cases, stealing isn't even a choice, but rather a means of survival. And as far as those whores, they didn't grow up wanting to endure a filthy bed. It was something forced upon them."
Cruella nodded in approval, but jasmine wasn't sure her vote counted seeing she could barely sit upright.
"Stealing is a sin, Queen Jasmine, as is whoring. Those that are wicked, deserve the wicked ways of the world, and no sympathy whatsoever."
Jasmine's voice rose higher, feeling herself becoming worked up, "So you're perfect, Mr. …"
"Kingsley. And of course, not."
"Jasmine nodded, biting her lip, "You know, it could just as easily be you in the gutters. And it could just as easily be me in that whorehouse, right now. Instead of here on this terrace."
Jafar flinched, remembering her sprawled out for Dracul; it would forever be engrained in the back of his head, and he felt his breakfast coming back up at the reminder.
"But you're not, my highness. You're here because you were worthy of your bloodline."
"I am worthy of nothing!" Jasmine shouted, and everyone's face dropped; except Jafar's, who was quickly becoming more and more intrigued by where this was going.
"It could be me down there, and it could easily be your daughter down there too Mr. Kingsley, had life not been so fortunate for you and yours."
Jafar rested his chin in the crook of an 'L' shape his left hand made, the extra fingers sprawled on the side of his face articulately. Maybe it was the way the light hit her eyes, making them a golden brown to match her form fitting dress. Whatever it was, Jafar was enamored with Jasmine – something about her seeming different. Older, wiser… sexier.
"Would you then, consider Henrietta of lesser value? Marred by misfortune, and unworthy of sympathy or compassion?"
The man looked in defense around the table, all eyes on him waiting for his answer, "Well of course not," he huffed, the tip of a cob pipe slipping under tight lips.
"Then how can you speak that way about those that cannot help themselves, that have no voice because no one will allow them one?"
"It's easy to conjure up an illusion about these mongrels as heroes in disguise. But reality and history have proven otherwise. You're young your highness, you'll see one day we're right."
"What's easy, Mr. Kingsley, is judging a group of people at a distance, while you sit on your backside, inhaling my cheese and sweet wine. It's unfortunate that you have slipped into a state of idle complacency. That you are blinded to the true reality of life outside your circle."
Elijah popped the object from his mouth, feeling more than irate now with the little woman, "Everything I have, I earned; and I have done whatever necessary to have it. And will do whatever must be done to keep it that way."
"And the majority will continue to have nothing; becoming poorer and sicker, because people like you are doused with unquenchable greed."
"Survival of the fittest, my dear," Elijah raised a glass, and Jasmine scowled, breathing deep and slow to calm her nerves.
She should drop it, and everyone else seemed to want to do the same. Except for Jafar; who kept his eye on her, waiting patiently as if knowing she was fuming inside.
He was right of course, and Jasmine's water glass hit the table, "Instead of damning those who are of 'Lesser value,', why not help give them value. Show them a different way, an option to change what they were told could never be changed."
"Some don't want to be pulled from the mud, your majesty. No matter how good your intentions." Ettie said.
"So, we forsake the masses because of the few?"
Jafar stirred, sitting upright, removing his elbow from the table, "What would you suggest then, my Queen? How would you fix, or ease, the issues of the ever-growing populace of street rats and thugs?"
Jasmine searched his straight face, but saw no hint of sarcasm or malice. Which she appreciated, but then became suddenly aware that everyone was waiting for her brilliant plan to fix the socio-economic inequality.
Damnit. She hadn't gotten that far. The most she'd ever though it out was her and Tahira getting a café or safe home for women and children. Her mind was working overtime, and all scrutinizing gazes made it that much harder to think. Now she wondered if Jafar had set her up to fail and look stupid in front of his colleagues. (And ex-lover.)
"Education," was the first thing that came out, but she regretted the choice not knowing what that would do. She herself barely had an education, only knowing to read and write. But nothing like that of well educated women in the west, or even Jafar who knew everything from science to play writing.
Elijah's whiskers puckered, "Ha, and do what? Make them stop working so they can learn their letters? How in God's name will that solve anything?"
Some others laughed, except for Cruella who was lost in her glass, and Jafar narrowed his eyes, at Elijah. If anyone was going to hurt Jasmine's feelings, it was him. Not a mustached asshole with a mouthy daughter.
"We build a library." Jasmine said cheerfully, and Jafar turned back to her in surprise.
"A library?"
"Yes… or you know… a place for scholarly works. A large enough structure than can hold some classrooms, discussions, teachings, literature from all over the world. There are literate folks in the streets, I know, I've met them. It could help create more jobs, as well as give the people a sense of accomplishment, self-worth, and most importantly, equality."
Her heart was pounding quickly, getting excited, "And I've wanted to build an orphanage, or safe home for women, and children only. Where they can come on hard times," Jasmine turned speaking only to Jafar, "And we can make a coffeehouse, like ummah did in the brothel, only this time we won't have it in a whorehouse. But a place that serves food, and welcomes families for community and fellowship with one another."
"Did she say whorehouse?" Tobias whispered to Cruella, who shrugged.
"Plus!" Jasmine yelped, and Jafar jolted a little at her sudden enthusiasm, "we would need workers to build these buildings, which provides more jobs. More stability. And More hope. Also, we should get another ship."
"A ship?" Jafar watched her, trying not to smile at the beautiful glimmer in her wide eyes. He would never understand this woman.
"Mm-hmm. Expand our trading route west, and more trade, more ships, means more jobs, and again –."
"More hope," Cruella chimed in, and Jasmine smiled clapping her hands.
"There," Jasmine said smiling to herself, then calmed to take the first breath since she'd started speaking.
"Well aren't you just damn adorable," Tobias said gruffly with a dimpled smile.
Adorable? No! She wanted to be taken seriously… Oy Vey.
A servant came just then, placing steamed goat and laffa on their plates, but Jasmine said no thank you to the man, calling him by name; to which all the group gave a look.
Ettie spoke for the masses, "You call your servants by name?" she laughed in that fake way Jasmine was learning to hate, "A queen who advocates for the unholy, and associates herself with slaves. How on earth will anyone fear you enough to respect you as a ruler?"
Jasmine thought several curse words, and comebacks, and even imagined breaking a bottle over her head. But instead, decided to killed her with kindness and smiled sweetly touching Jafar's strong shoulder.
"I think I will leave the oppression and fear-striking, to my husband, no one can do it near as good as he can," she looked to him with a grin, and much to her surprise, Jafar laughed at her comment. He really was so handsome when wearing a genuine smile like that. If only he would allow himself to do it more often.
Cruella and Tobias laughed too, and Ettie looked away with resentment.
"Like the carrot and stick," Tobias said, "A perfect combination I believe."
Jafar's hand slid over Jasmine's thigh, smoothing the soft fabric with his thumb and she gulped, captures by his coffee eyes.
"Perfect, is right."
Oh god, Jasmine caught her breath. Was he hitting on her? In front of everyone? He needed to make up his damn crazy mind. Between the brutal sexual encounter after the wedding and this flirty supportive mannerism, he was giving her whiplash.
Ettie scowled watching their transaction, while her father gave up the fight and took down his wine, remaining quiet the rest of breakfast.
Jasmine had excused herself from the table, feeling unwell still and headed inside alone. Since Jafar's chambers were now technically theirs, she should go in there to lie down. But, Jasmine thought better of it. There was always her old room; albeit, it held too many memories of abandoned dreams. So instead, Jasmine walked a few doors down and into a boudoir. The space was merely a sitting room, with a basin of water on a table, a lounge chair, and a mirror. She had rarely come in here before, finding it scary to be alone in a space so much smaller than her room. But now the close quarters felt nice and secure; and quiet most importantly. Jafar had his tower – Jasmine deserved a space of solace too.
The water was cold, but felt amazing on her flushed skin, hands scooping up the liquid from the washbowl to cover her face. It was easier to hide illness when trying to save face around everyone, but it had caught up in the form of a splitting headache and over turned tummy. Now Jasmine wished she'd eaten some food after all. Maybe that could've calmed her stomach. Droplets fell from her face, as she watched herself in the above mirror; then took a cloth to dry her face, patting the soft skin in thought; when the door opened in the reflection, and Jafar came in.
Slowly setting down the towelette, jasmine kept his stare through the oval glass.
"You caused…quit the argument this morning, little wife. It was almost as entertaining as your little stunt last night." Jafar undid his thobe, placing it neatly over the chair, leaving him casually in all black.
Jasmine assumed he preferred to be comfortable when strangling his victims, and rolled her eyes at the notion.
"It's no shock you're angry with me for getting drunk and standing up for what I believe in, but can we save the beating for later… I'm not well today." She spoke rather quickly, looking down into the water. Wanting him to just go away. He hated her, she knew that. And she hated him too. But there was no need to keep torturing each other, shouldn't they take a rest day once in a blue moon?
"Maybe you'll rethink your drunken antics next time then, yes?" the sudden warmth of his breath made her jolt. She hadn't even heard him walking toward and the unannounced presence made her tremble.
"If you're going to punish me…just get it over with." She couldn't remember everything last night, only that she probably acted a fool, and Jafar had waited all morning to kill her. He just needed her to feel safe with him before ripping it away again. Like now.
Jafar breathed a laugh stepping closer so his strong chest pressed into her back, "I think you've punished yourself, far better than I ever could."
Her head throbbed and she winced, "Somehow… I doubt that… Look, if you're expecting me to apologize for my behavior – I won't," the last words came out in a shaky whisper, Jafar's hands unexpectedly sliding over her flat stomach, compelling Jasmine to grip the basin table to steady herself.
His nostrils dug into her hair, eyes closing as Jafar breathed in heavily. Jasmine continued spying through the mirror; his lips pressed to the side of her head, drinking her in as his grip moved lower and lower. Jasmine's eyes fluttering as her husband spoke with intensity and unholy desire.
"Do you remember how you danced, Jasmine?"
Large tips of his fingers grazed her womanhood, before spreading over to either thigh, making Jasmine audibly gasp.
"Do you remember how you raped me… and tried to make me suck on a decapitated hand?"
Jasmine's eyes rose boldly, meeting the threatening gaze she knew would be there. Her knuckles whitened on the table in front of them, Jafar's cheekbones pressed against her temple as they froze in another standoff.
This time, however, Jasmine was certain not to lose, speaking to him in their reflection. "What makes you think, I would ever seek your company, Jafar? That I would ever, want you to touch me again?"
The sound of his teeth gritting made her cringe, and she wanted to be as far away from him as possible.
"Let go, of me," her body trembled, trying to pry his hands and failing. "You fucking snake! Stop it!" She spat and he smiled wickedly.
"Mm –I've only just begun."
Jasmine screamed as he covered her mouth, hands scratching at the massive paw while he dug another claw into her warmth, fingering Jasmine through the dress. The silk coated with her juices as he rubbed her clit and massaged tight lips with skillful fingers, until screams turned into whimpering moans. When it felt safe, his right hand fell from her mouth, and around her beautiful neck.
"Please, stop." Jasmine pleaded through confused tears, struggling to get away from the fingers that hooked against her heated center. But instead of letting go, Jafar clutched the muscles of her neck firmly, then moved down over her collarbone and to her left breast, kneading it skillfully, plucking at the hardening nipple until it peaked perfectly. Jasmine squirmed to break free, then yelped, paralyzed with tingling sensations as Jafar bit into her flesh, then sucked at the smarted skin; Jasmine instinctively leaned so he had better access to her neck.
"I have no intention of stopping, pussy cat. I've waited too long to have you."
Jasmine moaned louder this time, tossing her head back at the delicious feeling he pulled from her.
"Too long to make you mine…" he vibrated against her ear.
They were married. He had taken her freedom, her home, and her virtue. Wasn't that enough for him? "You already made me yours, Jafar," Jasmine whimpered, trembling violently, "what else could you possibly want?"
He spoke ravenously against her, "Everything."
"Aagh!" Jasmine hollered when Jafar spun her violently, then dragged Jasmine by the arm until they were in his bed chambers. He slammed the door behind them, then claimed her mouth possessively; licking, biting, teasing, pulling and pushing as he cupped the sides of her face. Jasmine froze for a moment, but came to life, testing the limits as she sucked on his tongue, and gripped his tight ass, forcing his hard member to press onto her belly.
"I hate you…" Jasmine managed before he kissed her deeper, drowning out her complaints, "I hate you… Mm… and I'll never trust you," her body betrayed her heart, moaning into Jafar's sweet mouth, drowning under his warmth, and the passionate way his fingers twisted in her hair and down over her body; strong hands fondling every curve and crevice. Greedily, pulling at her dress.
He was a short of breath, unable to focus on her anger. "I fail to see the issue, love," His large teeth smiled against her lips before falling back into a greedy kiss, and Jasmine groaned, hating how out of control she became when he did this to her. How one touch could melt her, and one taste of his sinfully wicked mouth made her wet with want. So much chaos, so much hurt, yet irrefutable desire.
"But… they're expecting us to come back," she tried to reason but was cut short when Jafar grabbed her wrist, and forced her to cup his erection. "Jafar –," Jasmine eyes widened as she whimpered his name. She'd never touched a penis before and was downright terrified.
He guided her, showing Jasmine how to fondle himself. She tried to obey, not wanting to look stupid at her inexperience, but nonetheless, took it clumsily through the fabric; panicking with mixed fear and arousal.
"They're expecting no one, I have you all to myself. And you have me…" he resounded to the meager excuses, and let go of his grip, allowing Jasmine to explore his rock-hard erection while groping her pert ass. She gulped, trembling while slowly stroking the impressive length.
"You need to stop being nervous," he pulled her lip free, Jasmine unaware she had even been biting it. Her hand paused at the base, holding Jafar's stare as she held his cock; then climbed up his member until she felt a large tip, the shape of a mushroom cap.
Jasmine peered through long lashes, waiting for him to instruct her, but he remained deadpan, wanting her to do this herself. To take him in her hand like he knew she wanted to.
Against better judgement, Jasmine's tongue darted out, leaving a glossy sheen of pouty lips. Using two fingers to reach the brim of his pants, Jasmine dipped inside, and pulled the black fabric down, just enough, so his cock sprang forward. The woman's heart leapt and her pussy literally tightened in anticipation at the unexpected sight. It was odd, so much different than she'd expected a man's sex to look like; but she liked it, hungrily eager to claim it.
It overflowed in her hand, fingers unable to fully wrap around the shaft as she attempted to get a grip on it. Then, when she felt confident enough, began jerking his cock. Silky smooth skin glided over thick veins as she tugged back and forth. Never looking way from her new toy, infatuated by its masterful design. The head was thick with a blushing pink and the tiny hole in its center wept pre-cum, enticing Jasmine to lick it clean.
"Afraid of a big dick, my wife?"
On the contrary, I want to ride it and fuck you stupid, Jasmine thought, but replied, "Why should I be? I've dealt with you all my life."
He blinked undeterred by the predictable remark, and Jasmine squeezed him hard with angst, earning a hissing grunt of approval as his features twisted in painful delight. Mm – finally she had him in her control, cock out, completely at the mercy of her grip. It felt strangely powerful seeing him this vulnerable; not to mention the swell of his member felt so damn delicious. She'd been repulsed at the thought of him inside her after he'd been so cruel. But now, she wanted this glorious rod to fill each of her holes. Starting with her mouth. Jasmine worked him harder, more assured as his eyes closed in bliss. Then, before she could back down, Jasmine fell to her knees and licked the weeping tip, leaving it glossy with her spit.
"Jasmine!" Jafar raggedly shouted, eyes shooting open to look down at her teasing stare.
But before he could try and pull away, her tongue darted out again, the flat slippery muscle lapping at his tip, and he trembled, nearly falling over at the sensation. He'd imagined Jasmine on her knees pleasuring him, but never planned on enacting it. (Unless it was to humiliate her.) That was usually something done only in a whore house, not by innocent young Queens.
"Jasmine… get up," he sounded heavily sedated, as if drugged by the toxin of his beautiful woman.
"Do you not like this?'
He didn't respond past scowling with confliction.
"Because … I like it –," her mouth formed and small O, and took the head of his cock into her warm mouth making him growl, on the verge of howling; then sucked in her cheeks, flicking her tongue over the smooth tip before releasing it with a dull pop, "I like how you taste, Jafar."
Jafar's nostrils flared, teeth showing, "Fuck… me…"
He was losing it, and that made her belly rise, "More than anything I love controlling a ruthless sorcerer. Making you weak with just the flick of my tongue."
"You control nothing." He hissed, but it turned into a throaty roar once Jasmine took the tip in again. This time, scraping her teeth lightly over the sensitive skin before setting it free.
Without warning, Jafar grabbed her by the shoulders and yanked Jasmine up. She screamed when he lifted her, wrapping her thighs around him and then threw her back onto the darkly dressed bed. Jasmine whimpered with shock, and scooted back to the headboard as Jafar crawled in after her; the queen suddenly afraid of his animalistic aura.
Since last night – or rather since Jasmine had turned from a child into a stunning goddess – Jafar had envisioned fucking her, making her cum on his cock and writhe beneath him. Although torturing the shrew yesterday had been more than satisfying, he now wanted more, and found himself unable to control it any longer. Jafar dragged Jasmine back down a bit, then tore into the dress from its hem, up to the middle of her thighs, revealing the smooth pink lips at their apex; Jasmine screeched, throwing fists while commanding him to back the fuck off. However, her anguish bounced off him like rubber. Jafar knew no other way than to take what he wanted, roughly. He'd never made apologies for his ways in the past, and would make none now.
Jasmine smacked him in the face, again and again, until he was forced to let go of his work and pin her writs down with one hand. So, she kicked him, using her knees to jab at his back and sides. Why did he have to ruin everything!? Why couldn't he just love her, or at least pretend to care. Was there no trace of sensuality in this monster? He made her feel dirty and –
Almond eyes shot open towards the blood red canopy, mouth falling slack when Jafar immobilized her legs with his weight, and began fondling her smooth slit with a boney finger. He was looking down on her, taking in every feature; committing to memory the way her breasts rose and fell, the shape her mouth made when she was aroused, and the little crease that formed in the middle of her brows when she was upset.
A firm digit dipped inside her sensitive entrance, then back out, pulling sticky juices from her pussy to spread them over her parted folds.
"You're so wet for me, Jasmine," he purred through uneven breaths.
"I – I am?"
He nodded, showed her his coated finger, then kissed his wife deeply, greedily perforating her lubricated cunt.
She should fight him off. None of this was right and should not be enjoyed one bit. But she relished in it and found herself whimpering; half in anger, half in erotic bliss. The tight line in which she had set her mouth, betrayed her, to kiss him back. When she moaned, Jafar eased onto her more, a deep noise escaping his mouth that made her tingle all over. A second finger joined now, pumping deeper and deeper, as he watched her face for ques, slowing when she tensed then deepening as her mouth parted and back arched.
He was taking care of her, making her feel heavenly; and that part she hated. Detested how much control he continually kept over her. First with brutality and now with sexy foreplay. How shameful it was that she had fallen on the ground to lick his cock. She was dripping wet for him, and wanted to be fucked by him too. What the hell was wrong with her? Was she a sucker for agony and despair?
"Jafar, I don't want this." It wasn't a full truth. Still, Jasmine needed to know she had said everything possible to keep this from happening, that it was out of her hands entirely. Maybe that would ease her guilt for enjoying it.
"No?" he growled, then thrust a third finger in making her scream out. He pumped her hard wanting to punish her for being an insolent brat, "I don't care what you want, pussy cat."
Her nails dug into his shoulders, "It hurts," She cried against his lips. After a few more rough thrusts, he slowed, figuring that was enough for now. Still fucking her with his hand, Jafar's thumb met with the swollen clit, beginning to move in rhythmic circles.
The second the pad of his thumb kissed her delicate nub, a deep sultry moan climbed from her throat and over her tongue. Jasmine's body torn between pain and unknown pleasure. She rocked onto his hand now, meeting each penetration.
"Mm – don't … stop," it escaped without her thinking, too caught up as her pussy leaked and the air grew dense; pressure building in unthinkable ways. This was beyond anything she'd ever imagined. All the times she'd pretended Jafar was fingering her – this is what she was missing out on!? All the wasted years! She had even done it to herself once or twice thinking of him – the second time while in the bathhouse. She had tried to envision Aladdin, but could only think of Jafar.
But this. Oh, Allah, this was a thousand times more fulfilling.
Jafar's breath hitched and he pressed harder against her, Jasmine pulling on his back, forcing him closer; wanting all of him. As they kissed again, Jasmine parted his soft mouth with her tongue inhaling softly as his beard tickled her dark skin. When she thought, he could surprise her no more, his fingers made a come-hither motion against a delicious spot, forcing her walls to clamp down on his hand, Jafar working her higher and higher. Her back arched, mind reeling as her eyes fluttered at the building pressure in her cunt.
"That's it Jasmine."
She still loathed him, still remained sickened by all he'd done. But in this moment, all she wanted to see was her husband. The man that she'd known all her life – that she had grown up loving, and now loved to hate. He was wicked and cold… yet so fucking heavenly. His voice shot electricity through her, while his scent enraptured her mind and heightened her senses; forcing out all rational until all she could see was him. She just wanted Jafar. To be loved in some form, no matter how screwed up, after so much heartache and rejection. Fighting could wait until later.
"Let go, baby… Cum for me Jasmine," he commanded against her mouth, and it sent her over the edge.
White light shot behind her eyes, as she dug deeper onto his fingers, convulsing from an earth-shattering orgasm, trembling from the top of her head to the soles of her feet; muscles tightening as her slick pussy quivered. Never in her life had she felt something so powerful and consuming, the muscles in her neck tightening, as her veins threatened to explode.
He removed himself before she came down form the high, and Jasmine closed her eyes, still seeing stars; then, opened sleepily when she heard him undress from the waist down, and appear back between her legs. Cock pulled free once more, Jafar pressed the swollen tip at her dripping hole. Taking himself in hand like a mighty hammer, Jafar guided the tip of his cock up and down the pink folds, butting against her clit so she gasped tossing her head back. Jafar flashed a grin, doing it once more, until finally pressing himself into her sensitive hole, slow and precise.
It stung like sandpaper against a raw wound, but she didn't fight him. Knowing eventually, she would have to get broken into it. Besides, if he could make her feel that good with just his hand, how much better would it be with that magnificent dick?
She rose her hips to meet him, and he slipped into the tight surrounding, both gasping as if the air had been stolen from their lungs, and Jafar had to stop for a moment, cock threatening to spill over from the tightness of her dripping sex. Then Jafar pumped, moving his hips to thrust in and out, fucking deep and slow, savoring every elicit noise from his queen.
They got into a rhythm, and it hurt much less, and Jasmine wanted more. Faster. "I'm not glass you know," she said mischievously, biting her lip in the way she knew drive him crazy.
By the look Jasmine gave next, Jafar knew his dark thoughts had emanated perfectly, and he leaned on his hands to hover over her. Then, pulling nearly all the way out, he barely left the tip of his cock inside her pleading cunt.
Jasmine moaned in protest and wiggled, wanting him back inside her. It made him chuckle throatily, then answer her silent pleas by slamming into her depths; the impact jolting Jasmine to the core as she screamed in pleasure. Then again, Jafar removed himself entirely, pulsating the tip until she was nearly crying, begging him to fill her once more.
When a tear spilled over her cheek, Jafar complied and this time rammed her with all his might, making her hit the headboard. Again, and again, he plunged into his wife, quickening until her legs fell open, shaky and weak while she clawed his back, screaming his name, and begging him to never stop. His breath turned ragged, and sweat formed on his brow, but he wanted more of her.
Jafar ripped the top of her dress, freeing large cinnamon mounds. Mouth watering at the way her tits bounced, glistening with sweat. It was euphoric, a sight befitting gods, as her screams turned into breathless gasps, Jasmine losing herself with every panicked drive of his cock. Cum built, the pressure turning unbearable as he felt Jasmine near her climax as well. All he needed to do was hold out for just. A few. More. – …
*knock, knock, knock*
When a rapping came at the door, the rulers of Agrabah froze, Jafar still buried in his wife. Then another came, louder than the first, and Jafar yelled hoarsely, "Who the fuck it it!?"
Jasmine snorted, catching her laughter at his frustration, and bit her lip smiling evilly. She wiggled on his cock and Jafar looked back down, wide-eyed and infuriated that she was teasing him, his sack aching from lack of release. He mouthed 'stop,' but Jasmine wasn't much for taking orders.
"Jafar. It's me… Ettie. I'm sorry to bother you in your private chambers, but… we were waiting for you to come back. There was some news left to be discussed."
Jasmine gave Jafar an I-told-you-they-were-waiting, look, and Jafar bared teeth unamused. But she felt too playful to care, and dug crescent shaped lines into his lower back while wrapping her legs around him. Then, Jasmine took his wrists and slid his lengthy arms over her head, making him buckle and fall onto her chest, and deeper inside her; Jafar's anger weakened turning to a heavy, yet pleading groan.
"Can I come in, Jafar?" Ettie called after a moment of no response.
"N…No" Jafar broke away from Jasmine's mouth, fighting to keep composure; it was beyond impossible though with his minx of a wife controlling his every thought.
Jasmine rolled her pelvis up, then down again, coaxing him to move too, and fuck her back; then she consciously tightened her walls around him, pulling on his cock from inside, and his forehead fell onto the pillow, hissing in her ear. This was so fucking hot, and Jasmine knew how to get him. She bit his ear lobe, then whispered something forbidden, which ignited a fire in his belly.
"Alright… well, will you please come out soon. Father has some amazing news that I'm sure you will love, and it's rather important for –."
Ettie continued speaking at the door, but Jafar heard none of it. Now covering Jasmine's mouth to muffle her screams as he fucked her, cock reaching the depths of her anatomy, until her eyes rolled to the back of her head, and her breathing choked; Jasmine unraveled with a blinding orgasm, as Jafar found release, and drained himself inside her womb, gushing his seed until he was sucked dry.
A few minutes passed, and Ettie spoke again, unable to hear anything when she pressed her ear to the door, "Jafar… are you okay in there?"
Ettie chewed her lip, then reached for the brass handle, but stumbled when it opened from the other side. Jafar stepped out, swiftly closing the door behind him so Ettie couldn't see in.
"I thought you were hurt… or ill perhaps, running off like that from breakfast." She smiled, and he looked her over pleasantly.
"I'm very well, Henrietta. I just had some umm, loose ends to tie up." He looked over his shoulder to the closed door, wishing he could be inside with Jasmine still, "Shall we then?"
He politely held out a hand suggesting Ettie take the lead. And they walked side by side, Jafar's mind nowhere near focused on work. But on his wife, of whom he feared would burn him from the inside out, reducing him to ash. What was worse, was, he absolutely loved it.
That damn bastard had tied her to the bed!
"Ugh," Jasmine shook the headboard, trying to free her wrists, then screamed in frustration. "That fucker. Thinks he's clever with his puns. I swear to Allah I will humiliate you, umph," she tugged again, griping to herself, "And tie you up naked somewhere for all of Agrabah to see. Stupid, fucking male chauvinist pig –."
"Your majesty?"
A small voice echoed from the hall, and Jasmine recognized it as Mia, the girl that had come to her before the Aghd ceremony.
"Oh, Allah, yes. Mia, come in. Just… don't look at me when you do. Oo- sorry. I tried to warn you."
Mia turned bright red, eyes wide and on the floor as she stuttered. "How can I help you my lady."
Jasmine laughed, "Well, for starters you can cut these ropes and get me down. If it isn't too much trouble…"
Mia hurried, and pulled a small knife from her dress, then looked bashfully to the Queen, giving a shrug, "merely for protection my lady."
"Then you're a smart woman, Mia," Jasmine grinned, and pulled her right hand free, as Mia walked to the other side.
"Interesting morning your highness?"
Jasmine blushed, and Mia sucked in her lips to keep from laughing. She shouldn't have asked that.
"It's okay…yes…a very interesting morning indeed." Her left was cut free, and Jasmine pulled the sheet to her naked chest.
"I need a change of clothes; these ones are irreparably ruined... sadly enough."
"Well It can be sewed my queen. I can easily have it back to you in a day or two."
Jasmine hugged Mia, who stiffened with shock, then giggled at Jasmine's excitement. "Thank you my friend. I have one more favor to ask, Mia. Did you see the Sultan?"
"Y – Yes, he and Miss Kingsley went toward his private meeting room with Mr. Kingsley. They might be there a while?"
"Perfect!" Jasmine nearly yelled, then pulled on her shoes that had fallen off during the escapade with Jafar. "I have to leave the palace, and run a few errands."
Jasmine tossed the torn fabric from her body, and went to the wardrobe which held a few of her belongings. (The rest would be pulled over when they moved into the designated 'Sultan's chambers.' Papa then would be moved into a guest room.) There was a red and tan two-piece outfit, and Jasmine threw on the sleeveless crop top, and the tanned harem pants which had red patterning down the sides.
"But my Queen… leave the palace walls? What if Sultan gets mad? Or thugs rob you of your jewels," Mia whispered chasing after Jasmine as the two women went quickly down the hallway.
"I will wear no jewelry, and I'm not afraid of my husband."
Mia, grabbed Jasmine's hand lightly, "I'm afraid of him Queen Jasmine. He will punish me if he knows I let you go."
Jasmine lifted Mia's chin, "I won't let that happen Mia. You were never here with me. Understand? Now go to the kitchen and have yourself some breakfast. Tell Geraldine I said to fix you something nice."
Mia nodded, and took off quickly. No further interruptions happened, as Jasmine slipped outside, and two guards, Taka and Jamal, opened the gates for her, Jasmine greeting them by name and with a hug before stepping into the streets.
The conversation from this morning hadn't been the first-time Jasmine thought about her people, or the women she'd left behind. Time to face the music, and keep her promise to Tahira: that she would never forget her or leave her behind.