The Greatest Harem

A Lem/T-Mec Production

Story written by Lem

CHAPTER THREE

Sara abruptly closed the structure.

"What did you say?" asked Tanzi.

"Nothing!" said Sara. "You know, it really is a disappointment when you look at it close up."

Tanzi tried to peer into one of the windows. "Are you sure? It really does look intricate. And I was sure I heard you say--"

The breakfast bell rang. "Oh!" Sara exclaimed. "They are serving mangos. Your favorite!" She turned Tanzi towards the buffet room, keeping the conversation going.

The other women got up for the bell, and the Sultan found his dwelling the center of much brief attention, but as none of them had any knowledge of western-style doll houses, they could not penetrate his hiding place.

Finally, there was peace. He looked across the harem room and tried to plan his escape. He could not see the hallway being any safer than where he was presently, but nothing could be worse than to be at the mercy of these mere females!

But before he could make it to the door to even plan his escape, a towering, shadowy figure entered the harem, leaned down, and reopened his sanctuary. It was Sara.

Caught by surprise, he had no chance to hide. Her giant eyes made immediate contact with him like a dawning sun shining between the valley formed by her bountiful breasts.

"Hello, Sultan," she said hesitantly.

This was the only woman in his harem whom he had not taken. As before, seeing her this way, she still looked as innocent as ever, yet bursting with female vitality and curiosity. Her wondering blue eyes, the full, dewy lips - all were to have been his today, a rightful conquest of the most powerful man in the East. Now, whether she knew it or not, this simple peasant girl had a power over him that dwarfed the power he had previously held over her.

But he looked at the wonder in her face and decided she could be dominated. She was just a girl. He was a king.

He steeled himself and drew himself to his full height, about five inches, and shouted, "Kneel before your superior, concubine!"

She looked startled for a second, then she giggled. "Pardon, oh great one, but I AM kneeling down." He looked at her more closely, and swallowed dryly as he realized that she was telling the truth; his attention had been drawn by her face and...other features.

He began again. "Yes, well, what I mean to say is: no one in my kingdom is allowed to be above me."

She looked doubtful for a moment, then she tried getting down flat on her belly (though her chest somewhat impeded this effort) and placing her head against the floor. Unfortunately, as he was now on the first level of the palace, she was still not get below him at all. "It seems, oh great one, that this is a difficult command to obey."

He detected a rising tide of amusement in her voice that he had to stem. "Do not speak until spoken to!" he exclaimed. She immediately went silent, but her eyes still gazed at him curiously, as if they waited for proof of his power. He continued: "I command you to take me to my grand vizier!"

Her eyebrows raised. "Take?"

"Yes, take me!" carry me! In your hands."

"It would be a pleasure, oh, great one," she said all too sincerely. "But may I humbly request to temporarily rise above you? It would be difficult for me to pick you up in this position."

"Y-yes, of course." He watched as she rose to a kneeling position. She leaned down, placing her right hand palm up on the floor.

"And," she continued, "Whereas you told me to use two hands, may I use but one? It would seem to be more than sufficient."

"Yes, yes, of course." He looked at the hand, itself bigger than any sentry he'd ever used to place at his gate, yet smooth and feminine, with glistening nails. She looked at him expectantly, and he gingerly placed his foot on it. Her mouth turned up at its corners as she felt his tiny weight on her.

She stood up slowly and gracefully, but to him, it seemed he was flying dizzily into the air. He fell onto her palm, and gripped her finger with all his might. "Stop, stop!" he shouted.

When he opened his eyes he saw that she was holding him far over her head, like a servant girl might bear a plate of fruit. "What are you doing?" He demanded.

"Now that I am standing I can be sure that I am not above you."

"I release you from that duty! Carry me lower, but close enough so that we may speak."

"Thank you, my lord." She lowered him down to a more natural level. He stared as the view as her form seemed to rise above him, like a mountain being upheaved from the earth during a quake, only this mountain had eye contact with him. Her hair was like an ebony waterfall, her neck like a giant column, and...

She held him steady at the level of her bosom, and he silently gasped at the sight of the giant orbs only a few feet (as he measured them) before him, rising and falling with her breath. Though he had acquired thousands of women in time, there was no one he had ever desired more than this. And he had barely touched her yet. He looked at his feet. Of course, he was touching her now.

As for Sara, she looked down at this miniature sultan and, despite her youth, sensed that this perfect replica of her sultan had less than perfect composure. Her breasts had been the object of lustful looks and crude comments, but now they were the subject of abject awe, and from a man who was the most powerful in the world. As her new clothes and cleanliness made her feel beautiful, the reverence of her little subject made her feel powerful, even bold.

Finally, she stopped her progress to the door. "Do you like my bosom, oh great one?" she asked plainly.

He was so thunderstruck by her beauty and confidence that he did not even admonish her for speaking out of turn. "Y-yes," he said, not knowing how else to reply.

"Is it not true that I was added to your harem, at no small price, just so you could posses it?" He nodded yes.

"Would you like to do so now?

He gazed up at her, now with an unhidden air of intimidation, and tried to look her in the eye, but found that difficult, as a mountain of breast cut off his view. "Now is not the time or place."

"Because you are so small?"

"No. No, because..."

She began drawing him slowly closer, and her breasts were getting ever nearer, drawing in on him like giant curved walls. He backed away, then found himself running out of hand to stand on. He resorted to grabbing the small folds of her silken top, and leaning back. It was the only way to hold off contact with them. He looked down and saw a dizzying cliff side in the shape of a beautiful woman. "Please! Remove your hand!"

"Very well." she drew her hand away gently but quickly, so quickly, in fact, that he was left dangling from her chest, or rather, lying against it. The feeling of her breast, warm and full on him, was overwhelming, and separation from it meant a fall from which he would never recover. Never had he been so out of control with a woman.

"Put me down! I beg you, put me down!"

"Gladly." She stopped, sat down, and slowly reclined against a pillow, until she was almost horizontal. And before he knew it, he was no longer laying against her breast, but on it.