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Message-ID: <40731asstr$1044558605@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: shadowloup@aol.comAntispam (Shadowloup)
Subject: {ASSM} (NEW)  Sailbad the Sinner Part3/3 (mf, humor, viziers)
Date: Thu,  6 Feb 2003 14:10:05 -0500
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You must be physically and metaphysically old enough to read this.
Constructive feedback is welcome.
Those wishing to use this (for who knows what reason) can feel free to contact
me.





Chapter Ten, in which Sailbad and Saddam's adventure begins to suck, and
violence is added to the sex

"You know," said Saddam, arms akimbo behind his head.  "Of all the ways to die,
this is one of the more pleasurable ones."

With that, his eyes closed, his mouth set in a grimace of pain mixed with
ecstasy, and his body was wracked with yet another orgasm.

"I know what you mean," Sailbad replied, tousling the hair of the head affixed
to his own groin.

The cave of the lamias had been easy to enter.  But the pair were finding it
difficult to leave.

The duo had entered a large hall filled with hissing as though every serpent
slithering across the face of the earth had a voice in this place.  Looking
about, they were startled when two feminine yet sibilant voices accosted them. 
Not far away two very comely ladies basked upon a rock, watching them with
their chins gently cupped on their palms, and smirks upon their lips.  Greenish
hair flowed gently about their pale skin to their shoulders, caressing the tops
of their breasts, which were hidden behind the rock.

They had flattered the two sailors, ultimately offering to relieve their
frustrations orally.  Being men, Sailbad and Saddam had not thought to look a
gift of fellatio in the mouth.  But once their glans had been enveloped tightly
by the pair of willing mouths, the two men made the shocking discovery that the
ladies' lower bodies were serpentine.

"However shall we screw them?" Saddam thought to ask before nearly being
knocked unconscious with his first orgasm.  Sailbad managed better, freeing his
sword just as his first orgasm sucked the strength from him.

Now the pair lay upon the rocky floor, entwined within the python thick and
very strong tails of the lamias, growing weaker and weaker with every passing
orgasm.

Sailbad was barely able to hear the footfalls coming down the hall leading to
the pit.  Despite the fact that his sword lay nearby, he was already too
depleted of energy to reach for it.

He looked up to see the form of Maven.  Sailbad briefly wondered if he would
have been better off being discovered by Osama and the crewmembers.

Beneath a layer of oily spunk, Maven's face was set in a scowl.  Her fiery red
hair was matted to her head like a dark skullcap, thanks to the essences of the
two giants she had engaged in carnal combat.  Lips, eyebrows, hair bangs, the
top of her breasts and her thighs were covered with white, sticky gunk.

But the sword Maven held in her hand was very clean.

"Sailbad," she said.  "We need to talk about our relationship."

"Maven dearest, nothing would delight me more.  But Saddam and I are in a bit
of a fix right now."

"Did you not leave me in a 'bit of a fix'?"

"Perhaps, but we thought you were martyring yourself on our behalf."

Maven glared at the pirate.

"Have you any concept of being manhandled against your will?" she said.

"I can guess," Sailbad said, gritting his teeth as another orgasm shot through
his body, weakening him while feeding the lamia.

"It will take me weeks to wash this gunk off my body," Maven said.  "I will not
even speak of my hair.  Even now I feel some creeping from my poor mistreated
bum."

"Please," said the lamia feasting upon Sailbad. "We are trying to eat."

"I have something you can eat," Maven replied, slashing with her sword and
smiting in the neck the vixen suckling upon Sailbad's schlong.  Both Sailbad
and the lamia shrieked.  As their cries echoed down the long hallway, they were
answered by an increased hissing.

Sailbad checked himself to see that he had suffered no ill effect from Maven's
stroke, thanking Allah profusely when he discovered little Sailbad was still
intact.

Saddam was trying to roll away from the lamia who had been feasting upon him. 
Seeing her sister's demise, this lamia sought to disentangle herself, hissing
like a cobra, her hair spread out like a hood behind her, her breasts bouncing
above her serpentine waist.

Maven faced the lamia, using her sword to deflect a wad of spittle and semen
the lamia spat at her.  The lamia made to bit with her sharp fangs, but Maven's
blade was swifter, and decapitated the serpent lady.

The trio caught their breathes as the hissing grew louder.

"How did you think to find us?" Sailbad managed to pant.

"I followed the one way I knew was absolutely incorrect," Maven said.  "But we
must now flee sideways, for the way ahead will be blocked by angry lamias, and
our former crewmates must be scuffling in the dark behind us."



Chapter Eleven, in which Osama and Saladin face exactly the same perils

Meanwhile, Sailbad's former crew was now stymied in the room of the well.

"Khomeni!  Lick!" commanded Saladin.

The wizened little sailor gave a dirty look to the warrior, his gnarled fingers
stroking his whitened whiskers.

"But I will muss my beard," he whined.

"You can tongue twat," said Saladin, drawing his blade. "Or you can suck
scimitar.  The choice is yours."

With that, Khomeni suddenly found he had a voracious appetite for this strange
woman's lower lips.  It took a while, but the woman's hips finally began
gyrating, and a great hollow voice boomed from all around the well:

"I am the oracle of the well and... holy shit!  I never expected to see you
again."

"Never mind that," Saladin said.  "What is with this new path? Who has dared to
redecorate while I was away?"

"Allah himself decreed these changes to keep the unwary and unwise from using
and abusing the magic of this place, so do not get torqued with me.  Now, also
by Allah's decree I must start with a boiler plate disclaimer. To cross into
Kwarter, the stronghold of the ancients, you must prove yourself worthy."

"Yes, yes, we are ready," said Saladin impatiently.

"If you fail to answer my questions, your backsides will be ravaged by a
near-sighted, love-struck camel, and while you are lying on the ground
recovering from this, a fat smelly eunuch shall mistake your faces for
cushions."

"Thrilling," said Saladin.

"What is the strongest force in the universe?"

"The will of Allah," said Saladin

"If a man says he understands women, what is he?"

"Wasting his time!" Osama interrupted.

"If a woman says she understands men, what is she?"

"Beaten till she recognizes the impertinence of her ways!" Osama said.

"What foul wind only blows one person any good?"

"Osama's breath," said Saladin, adding "Is this going to take long?"

"Not really," the 'Ifrit said.  "You've only answered two of the four questions
with anything resembling a correct answers."

"Yes, but in your introductory preamble, you merely said we had to answer the
questions.  Correctness was never an issue," argued Saladin.

"Damn, you're a smart one.  But since only two of the four were right, you must
forfeit something."

With that, Khomeni's head was swiftly enveloped in the vagina he was licking. 
A muffled yelling was heard as his arms waved about between the enclosing
thighs, and his legs kicked even as the female leaned backwards, causing
herself and the crewman to splash into the well.  The waters of the well roiled
violently.  Slowly they stilled until they moved no more.

"What a kurve!" exclaimed Osama.   "Brother Khomeni martyred himself for us,
though, as the prophets say 'Better him than me.'"

"Let us pray to Allah that he is rewarded with seventy-two virgins," Khadaffi
said.

"I suspect he will have little taste for them," Saladin responded.

The magician felt about in his pack, finally withdrawing a brazier into which
he dropped some incense.  Setting the incense alight with a magically produced
flame, Saladin uttered several incantations for causing illusions to melt away.
 When the final syllable of the final incantation echoed off the wall, a
doorway appeared.  Osama and Saladin then herded the remainder of the crew
through the door and down the ancient hallway beyond.  

They had not trekked far when Khadaffi made an unsettling discovery.  "There
are strange, sticky white puddles upon the floor," he said.

Osama bent down, touched one such puddle with his finger, and tasted it.  "'Tis
sperm," he declared.  "Possibly from a giant.  Freshly spilt too."

"I fear we near the hall of the twin lions of the loins," Saladin said. 
"Khadaffi, go scout ahead."

Khadaffi made to protest, but the gleam in Saladin's eyes, which matched that
of the drawn scimitar, made the sailor reassess his position.  He crept forward
slowly and quietly towards the bend in the hallway.

He was not quiet enough.  A huge hand grabbed him by the back of his neck.  He
yelped as another huge hand began removing his trousers even before he
disappeared around the curve.

Strange muffled shrieks and moans and growls made their way down the hall from
beyond the bend.  The crewmen looked at each other uneasily.

"We go forward," Saladin declared, his unsheathed scimitar flickering in the
torchlight.

When the group rounded the curve themselves, they found the pair of giants
absorbed in their diversion of raping Khadaffi, one aft, the other fore.

"Allah have mercy!" cried Chad.

"He too has martyred himself for our cause," declared Saladin.  "Though the
giants undress him, may Allah bless him."  The magician then forced the men to
go around the rutting trio.

Walking quickly, with more than a few glances back to guard against rearwards
attacks, the crew came across the halls of the labyrinth.

Saladin was the swiftest to recover.  He paused as he considered the differing
directions.  Finally he spoke to Ali.

"Cabin boy, you will travel down this rightward passage."

The terrified Ali could do nothing but comply.  They watched as the cabin boy's
light flickered until it was swallowed by the darkness.  That was when a blood
curdling scream dimly echoed back to them.

"Nope, that is not the way," said Saladin.  "You, Chad, travel down this
forward path."

"Oh great and glorious master, surely you do not mean the one from which the
hideous hissing and shrieking sounds emanate?" asked Chad.

"That is precisely the way I mean," Saladin said, gesturing towards that
direction with his sword.

Chad complied, and soon his torch was swallowed by the dark.  Soon after that,
another scream dimly echoed from that hallway as well.

"Well fuck me," said Saladin.  "I guess that was not the way either.  That just
leaves this one last way."

"And only two of us," Osama said.  "Which is fortunate, as the narrator has
been lazy in identifying exactly how many people staff our pirate ship."

"Indeed.  I often wondered how you conquered so many ships with so few
crewmembers," Saladin said.  "But, be that as it may, let us journey to the
left."


Chapter Twelve, in which the ruler shall sit uneasily

Blue tiles, inlaid with white ones, spread throughout the vast chamber.  Two
rows of columns, each capable of hiding a fully-grown elephant, marched down
the center of the floor. Torches flickered and smoldered along these towering
columns, their smoky tendrils drifting upwards, becoming lost in the inky
shadows which hid the ceiling.  The room was vast, hollow, and terrible in its
isolation.

At the far side of the room sat a dais, raised some four feet from the floor. 
Atop this dais sat a magnificently carved throne, inset with diamonds, gold,
pearls and opals.  Rich leopard skins were its cushions.

In the middle of the seat of this throne sat a skinny, short column of pure
silver.  Light bounced from its surface like rays from a setting sun breaking
through the clouds after a heavy storm.  Despite Saladin's best efforts, he was
unable to move that column.

It was then he spied an inscription carved in the wood atop the throne:

Great power
can be had
if wanted
very bad
But to win it
fair and square
one must sit
upon this chair

"Son of an infidel!" exclaimed Saladin.  "This is not something I expected."

Confused, Osama looked about.  There seemed to be nothing else in the room
except the throne.

"Saladin, I hate to be a nudnik, but where is the rest of the treasure?" he
finally asked.

"This is the treasure," Saladin said.

"Don't get me wrong, oh great magician and brother of the faith.  This is a
most beautiful throne, but surely this is not the only treasure contained
within this room?"

"It is the ultimate power which comes with the throne which is the ultimate
treasure."

"Why should you be interested in that?"

"Because I am Sodoman the Great.  I made that damned throne.  I poured my power
into it, but was vanquished before I could use it.  And now I must thank you
for helping me reclaim my rightful place."

"Son of the infidel!  You mean we were duped?" said Osama.  "I suppose I should
stop you."

"That would be unwise."  Here Saladin, now Sodoman, eyed the final hurdle
uneasily.  "But I am now struck by the thought that I do not necessarily want
my power back that badly," he said.

"I do not fear this piddley obstacle!" cried Osama.  He parted his robes and,
before Saladin could stop him, placed his backside atop the impaling implement,
using his training at the hole on the ship.  But this rod was far larger than
any crewmember's member, and Osama let loose a blood curdling cry that rent the
cavern.

After several seconds, Osama was able to make some downwards progress.  He gave
Saladin a fiendish grin which quickly froze upon his face.

"From the way your blade is poised to strike my neck, I believe you do not wish
me well in my endeavor," Osama said.

Saladin smiled.  "Allah be praised, what the prophets say is correct.  For long
ago they wrote 'a man may see many wonderful things if he will but remove his
head from his own ass'.  No, Osama, I do not wish you well.  I worked too hard
to be thwarted at this juncture by so foul a personage as you.  So when your
rump makes its final descent, and as the ultimate power quickens within you, I
shall lop off your head and gain that power in your stead."

The two adversaries glared at each other.  Neither moved.  One was set,
mid-squat, impaled atop the ornate throne, while the other stood poised like a
serpent with a sharp shimmering fang of a sword, ready to strike.

Seeing the malevolent pair thus engaged, Sailbad crept forward from where he
and Maven and Saddam had been hiding.  When he judged himself near enough,
Sailbad hurled the flask of magic elixir.  It flew through the air to break at
the dais before the feet of Saladin, spewing its contents upon the stone floor.
 

Thick green vapor enveloped the pair.  When it cleared, they made a startling
discovery.  Osama looked down to see a gigantic pair of breasts jutting out the
front of his robe.  He shrieked at the sight, and arose to flee the pair,
unimpaling himself in the process.  Saladin was likewise afflicted.  In shock,
the magician dropped his sword to check on his now non-existent sword of pork,
and his new accoutrements, which swayed uncomfortably on his chest against his
tight robes.

"Oh, to be turned into the vilest of Allah's creatures", wailed Osama.  "Oh
unmerciful Allah, you hath truly screwed me!"

"What have you done?" Saladin asked Sailbad, who walked out of hiding.  Maven
and Saddam quickly joined him.

"I merely threw at you an elixir, one which Saddam stole from you," Sailbad
said.

"This is odd, for never have I created such a transgender elixir."

All eyes turned to Saddam, who merely shrugged.  "So maybe I picked it up in
Baghdad.  I always purchase a few things here, a few few things there, because,
you never know."

"I understand," said Sailbad, making a mental note to have Maven monitor
Saddam's future elixir purchases.

Using his scimitar like a shepherd's crook, Sailbad herded the dangerous but
now dainty duo away from the throne of ultimate power.

"Surely you are not going to leave the throne of ultimate power to be found by
anyone else?" said Maven.

Sailbad uneasily eyed the impaling implement upon the seat of the throne. 
"There are some things for which the cost is too high.  But I shall take that
dildo of silver."

"No!  Do not do that!" cried Saladin..

Sailbad ignored the magician, and began pushing, pulling and grasping of the
rod.  But to no avail.

"Aww, screw it!" Sailbad said, both because of his inability to affect the rod,
and because he had too late remembered what had once been seated upon it.

"It is not like you to give up so easily," said Maven.  "Especially when you
are coming away from an adventure with nothing at all to show for your
hardships."

"We do have two women we have not yet screwed," Saddam said in a helpful tone. 
His half smile faltered beneath the steady, spiteful gaze everyone bestowed
upon him.

"It is more than we usually come away with," Saddam muttered to himself.

Undaunted, Sailbad once again set upon the silver dildo.  He pushed it, pulled
it, gripped it, stroked it, and did almost everything to it within his power. 
Slowly, with the mercy of Allah aiding him, Sailbad was able to slightly rotate
the implement.  That slight rotation became a steady unscrewing as Sailbad
discovered the secret to removing the dildo was to twist it in the opposite
direction than that which he had been toiling.

The silver rod came free from the chair, and behold, there arose from the side
of the room a staircase leading to an opening in the roof of the cavern through
which the golden rays of the sun lit the interior, and the chirping of birds
could be heard.


Chapter Thirteen, in which some loose ends other than Osama's are tied up

While everyone from Sailbad's ship had been occupied with adventuring or dying
within the ancient caverns of Tora Bora, the grand vizier Moustacha's ship had
pulled alongside the pirate ship.

Cleverly employing a route which bypassed the hazards faced by Sailbad's crew,
Moustacha's vessel had made excellent time.

But when the vizier's ship pulled into the harbor alongside Sailbad's,
Moustacha's men searched it and found it deserted.  So the vizier and his men
set to the island in their own boats, finding the two other rowboats already
there.

"They must have followed this trail into the island's interior," the vizier
said.  "Instead of following them, we shall bide our time until they return. 
For it is very difficult to sail across the sea without a ship of some sort."


Meanwhile, back at the cave entrance, Sailbad, Saddam, Maven and their two
captives had just climbed down from atop the cliff, and now stood at the
entrance to the cave they had first entered many hours before.  A noise from
within the cave caught their attention.  As they watched, a familiar human
figure staggered into the light.

"Chad, we thought you had died," Sailbad said with glee.

"It wasn't all that bad," he said.

That was when Ali stumbled out of the darkness.  

"Merciful Allah, we thought you had been martyred too."

"Tales of my martyrdom have been grossly exaggerated," Ali said.

That was when Khadaffi stumbled out of the dark as well.

"Khadaffi, we thought you had been done for," Osama said.  "This is all very
strange."

"It's queer, but I'm here, get used to it," he said.

They newly reconstituted crew made their way back down the jungle trail, but
were chagrined to see Moustacha and his men grinning back at them at the sands
of the beach.

"Allah damn it," said Sailbad.  "Don't you ever give up?"

"Never! Until I am avenged!  Just once I am going to screw one of your women
before you get the chance."

Sailbad and Saddam exchanged arched eyebrows.

"No.  No. Not these two women," Sailbad said with only half his heart.  "I have
not yet had sexual relations with them."

"That is precisely what I'm going to do!" said Moustacha, rubbing his hands in
salacious expectation.  "Hand them over."

"If I do, will you let us go?"

Moustacha thought for a second.  "I will give you passage to your ship and a
head start."

The captain of the guards leaned over to whisper into the vizier's ear.  "We
once again have Sailbad in our grasp.  Why do you allow him to escape on so
lenient terms?"

"For two reasons," Moustacha explained.  "First, for once I am cuckolding
Sailbad instead of the other way around.  Second, I once again feel as though I
am merely a pawn in a badly written story."

Meanwhile, Saladin and Osama registered their displeasure at the sudden turn of
events.

"You cannot do this to us!" cried Saladin.

"As the prophets have written 'What can you do?'" said Sailbad.  "Now,
'ladies', you must go with your new master."

"Screw this," said Saladin.  "I'm taking my chances with the lamias."  He
turned tail and ran, the foliage of the jungle swaying with his abrupt passage.

"Wait for me!" Osama wailed, following.

"Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.  I fear my two vixen have taken flight," Sailbad
told Moustacha.

Cursing, the grand vizier and his men ran down the jungle trail in pursuit,
leaving only the captain of the guards behind.

"Why do you not go with your master?" Sailbad asked.  "You do not think to stop
us by yourself?"

"No.  I merely wish to inquire about possible positions with your crew.  I tire
of giving advice to idiots."

"Then you would do better to join someone else's crew," Maven muttered.

"As the djinn of irony would have it, we do have several openings" Sailbad
said.  "But what qualities would you bring to our organization?"

"I have clear vision, am able to quickly and properly assess any situation, and
can instantaneously voice the proper course of action to take.  My dower
demeanor also allows me to play an excellent foil for your comedic exploits. 
Plus, I am a people person."

"Can you unfurl a sail?"

"Absolutely," the captain of the guard lied.

"Excellent!  Welcome aboard," Sailbad said extending a hand to his new
crewmemeber.  

"Now," the heroic pirate captain proclaimed, "let us give a prayer to Allah for
our deliverance.  Oh Allah, we humbly thank you for your bounty, and we humbly
beseech you to give us new opportunities to get our freak on."

With that, Sailbad and his crew climbed aboard one of the rowboats.

"You know," the former captain of the guards said, "we could strand Moustacha
upon this island by taking with us the other rowboats."

"That would not be in the keeping with our code of generosity to our foes.  It
would also muck up the art of storytelling, which demands a villain worthy of a
good hero," Sailbad explained. 

Once the crew had made their way to Sailbad's ship, that worthy captain once
again turned to address them.

"Men, and woman," he said.  "I know we have been through some rough times. I
also know many of you are not satisfied with the way things have been run. All
I ask is that you sail with me one last time. I think you will be thrilled with
our destination, for we will be seeking the lost brothels of Uber. This time we
cannot fail!"

As the men cheered loudly, the former captain of the guards turned to Maven and
asked her in a soft voice, "Is not the city of Uber landlocked?" 

"More than likely," she replied.  "But it is better not to quibble.  For there
are many things which could aggravate one if one pondered them for too long."

"Example?" said the former captain.

"For instance," Maven said, "these sailing ships we ride are all wrong.  True
corsair pirates typically rode upon galleys, which were rowed by slaves.  And
then there were the few female characters who populated this story.  Most were
nonhuman, and those that were human had little to no depth as characters. 
Personally, I think this to be a devastating indictment of the author's
inability to relate to females..." 

And so the great and glorious pirate prince Sailbad the Sinner and his worthy
crew sailed off, their ship high above the azure waves and into the golden halo
and embracing rays of the setting sun.


THE END

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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