(I'm sorry, I couldn't resist, Harim is pimpin big time!)
Aladdin was just reaching the cusp of fifteen, far different from the hero he would become. He was gangly, bit handsome, his untamable black hair being a very attractive feature. That was part of the reason his friend Harim approached him about a job opportunity. It wasn't something unknown to the young Aladdin, especially with a pal like Harim around.
"It's alright you know. You make good money, and with the right sales pitch you don't have to deal with the scummier clientele." Harim was good looking in his own right, quite a bit darker than Aladdin, being that he had Ethiopian blood rather than Arabic. He was seventeen, with a few men and women who played the same game he did as his stock. He was by no means rich but with the way he worked, it looked as though he might be that way very soon. "I'll sponsor you, give you a couple of easy going guys for a while. If you want…I'll help you through the first time. It's easier with a friend."
Aladdin had been hesitant. Sure he was a street rat, the lowest of the low, considered on the same level as a jackal to most of the 'decent' citizens of Agrabah. But prostitution? Selling out his body for some faggots play thing. Like most young men, he had his pride, and his sexual insecurities. The desire to show he was indeed a man only intensified by the lack of a father figure. He had friends who, well it was their business what they did between the sheets, but not him, no he didn't do that. But still, Harim was an old friend.
"I'll think about it." Was the only promise he had made at the time. But as a few months past, and his situation went from bad to worse. It was one of the worst things that could happen in a desert kingdom, mass drought. Agrabah had been specifically located on the edge of a river bank, one of the few to cut through this side of the world. Then one day, it all just dried up. Farmers crops withered in the fields, people were becoming sick and ill kempt. It wasn't as bad as it could have been, bit it was bordering.
Underfed, thirsty, and with no money to steal, Aladdin was against approached by his friend.
Harim was the picture of heath. His well toned ebony body was well dressed in tailored suits lined in exotic pelts. He wore a wide brimmed hat he claimed to be the fashion in some Northern country. Not a single finger was without jewelry, and fewer had less than three. He even held in his hand a gold gilded cane, which though he didn't need it, completed the image of wealth.
The deal was the same, Aladdin would get one fourth of the profits from whatever he made in a night. He would live with the rest of the prostitutes who Harim kept working. Two meals a day, a warm bed, and enough water to bath in. At the time, nothing could have looked better. And because they were friends, Harim agreed to sweeten the deal.
He would break Aladdin in.
Aladdin, now returning to his older, wiser self, caught the look of pure shock on Mozenrath's face. He laughed outright. "I was lucky." He admitted. "Harim was very careful the first time, showing me how and what to do, showing me how to make a customer happy. But it never actually came to that. Before he could get me fully installed as one of his guys the drought ended and business flourished again. There were pockets to pick and plenty of them. So we parted ways, no hard feelings." He grimaced. "Well…maybe a few, I think Harim had something of a crush on me for a while there, but he was a business man and had to worry about other things besides one not so willing street brat."
"But then…" Mozenrath gestured to the bedroom. "Why did you…"
Aladdin sighed. "That was a long time ago, and I haven't been entered since then. It's kind of like a muscle that hasn't been exercised in too long, it gets sore and difficult to manage when you try again."
That made sense. After all Destain had been using him from age nine up until he was turned into a mamluck, so Mozenrath's last penetration had been maybe three years ago. Mozenrath looked over at Aladdin, feeling as if he'd discovered an entirely different side of the hero. "Does Jasmine know?"
Aladdin nodded. "I told her the first night we were together. It bothered her for a good while, but she's not as naive as people think she is, nor as unaccepting. She knew I was doing what I thought I need to do in order to survive." Aladdin turned to Mozenrath, looking him straight in the eye with an unflinching gaze. "Mozenrath…what do you want?"
The question caught him completely off guard. "What?"
"Well…I know you say you want to conquer Agrabah, rule the world, enslave the populace, become the most powerful sorcerer in the…"
"I am the most powerful sorcerer in the world." Mozenrath snapped, a little of his pride returning.
Aladdin grinned. "I know. But what do you want? Just for yourself and nobody else? If you didn't have to prove anything to anyone?"
"What makes you think I have something to prove?"
Aladdin shrugged. "I don't know. It's just a feeling I get when I see you. How you have to be completely in control at all times or you feel insecure. You always put on this mask of invulnerability, showing the world only one face and facet of yourself." He moved in closer, placing a hand on either side of Mozenrath's face and pulling the taller man down to him. "Are you afraid of what someone might see under the facade? Are you afraid someone might know you?"
"I am not afraid." Mozenrath grit his teeth, damned if he was going to sit here and he told what he was. How was Aladdin hitting so close to the mark? He never would have figured the hero to be so perceptive. He started to rise but Aladdin, gently and firmly pulled him back down. By intent alone he slide Mozenrath's hands around his waist, encouraging the touch of another on his young, hard body.
"Then don't act afraid." Aladdin said. "Do unto others Moze…" he chided. "And right now, I want you to do unto me."
