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All That Glitters

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The dregs of war had clearly not dimmed the Sindrian spirit, because the celebration of the war’s end was well under way.

Sindria was lively and beautiful, glittering and festive. Under the night sky, torches burned bright, lighting the paved roads. Women danced in their silky outfits, feathers and jewels against their skin, as men juggled torches to the delight of watching children. The people were kind and generous, handing out masks and other festival paraphernalia. Where usually, there’d be some danger lurking about, criminals seeking to rob unsuspecting festival goers, you found none. There was only generosity, happiness, fun.

A string of flowers, vibrant in their color, was suddenly shoved in your face. You blinked dumbly at the intrusion, before focusing your sights past their petals, to the innocent girl holding them out to you. Her toothy grin widened.

“Flowers, mister?”

You paused before smiling kindly down at her, taking them gingerly.

“Thank you,” you said, pulling the lei over your head.

She nodded, before skipping off gleefully.

You absentmindedly watched her bounce off, smelling the savory aroma of meat. Grills lined the path, smoke wafting up like signals for festival goers to follow.

There didn’t seem to be a single problem with Sindria that you could point out. It had a flourishing economy, low crime rate, swift justice system, and a seemingly benevolent king. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that this country’s prosperity was all due to one man.

You sighed, a dim figure amidst the joy and festivities. Your thoughts were interrupted as someone small bumped into you. You managed not to stumble forward as you felt him gather his bearings, still leaning most of his weight on your back.

“Ah!” you heard. From the childish lilt, you surmised it was your blue-headed friend.

“Aladdin?”

You heard his soft, earnest feet pad around. He skipped into your view, blessing you with his countenance. You smiled at seeing his smile, always pleased at the pure joy and wonder he found in everything.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you! Alibaba, Morg, and I are going to go talk to Uncle Sinbad!” Your eyebrows rose. The two aforementioned suddenly came into your sight, Alibaba sheepishly scratching his head and Morgiana with a polite smile. Aladdin clasped his hands together and gleamed up at you. “Would you like to come?”

You grinned sheepishly. “I’m fine.”

The thought of being in Sinbad’s presence unnerved you. You knew if given the chance, you’d fall for his charms, as had everyone else.

Aladdin deflated, puffing his cheeks. “You haven’t joined us in anything tonight! Just now you missed the reenactment of our journey into Zagan’s dungeon!” At the mention of that you cringed; if you were recalling correctly, it was due to Sinbad’s encouragement they left. They could’ve died… You looked them over. They were just kids, you thought, looking over their faces.

“It’s true. You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself tonight,” Morgiana supplied, gentle concern in her features. Alibaba looked at you questioningly as well. You scratched your head.

“I know, I know, but—“

“Come on,” Aladdin urged, pushing you along. “You need to at least meet the eight generals!” A perverted look appeared on his face. “Ah, Big Sis Yam is so pretty and soft~”

Aladdin cooed over his magic teacher as he guided you forward, Alibaba and Morgiana in tow.

You didn’t blame their excitement, blinded by the glamour of Sindria and its king. Neither of them had seen what you had. You remember much too vividly seeing Sinbad in his djinn equip—intense, crushing power surging off him in waves, as the wrath of what felt like God rained down from the sky at his command. While such power was becoming commonplace in the age of dungeon conquering, there was just an abnormality to his strength. Men that strong didn’t just build empires on islands, ruling peacefully and fairly. You thought of your own childhood.

They just didn’t.

You allowed yourself reluctantly to be pushed, a murky feeling in your heart as you went to see the esteemed King of Sindria.

-

Yeah… You didn’t like him.

You reached this conclusion at the sight of him being fawned about by women, their eyes batting coyly at your entrance. You grimaced, immediately reminded of the gluttonous, lustful king your own country suffered under. Seeing your entry with your young companions, the horde swarming him was gently shooed away. The jewels and gold they wore clang together like songs as they exited. You absentmindedly watched them go, as opposed to Alibaba and Aladdin’s ogling, before returning your attention to Sinbad.

You stilled, terror racing up your veins.

His eyes, pools of deep amber, were acutely focused on you. They were highly attentive, unblinking and observant. The ghost of a smirk on his lips sent shivers down your spine. No one else seemed to be under the same effect as you, your young friends chattering as usual. His presence grew only more oppressive as he didn’t turn from you at all. No one seemed to notice his staring.

You ripped your eyes away from his, feeling uncomfortable.

You were right. This man couldn’t just be… as perfect as everyone claimed.

While the trio were introducing you to the eight generals, you kept your eyes anywhere except Sinbad, only making eye contact when greeting the guardians humbly. They were all interesting, some energetic and others stoic. They all appeared… honest. Kind-hearted. At the very least, well-intentioned. None of them gave you the same chill as their leader.

After introductions were done, you retreated behind Alibaba and Aladdin, who lead the conversations thanks to their extroverted personalities. You lost track of the topic at hand, the chatter becoming peripheral to your mind until screams broke out.

“What did you say?!”

“Oh, I’m sorry—are you hard of hearing?”

Your eyes darted up to Yamraiha and Sharrkan. Everyone’s attentions were diverted from the matter at hand. Whatever—it was an opening. The more responsible guardians endeavored to calm the situation, while the others watched in amusement. You dared to look at Sinbad again, relieved to find him not looking back. He was leaning back in a lavish chair, his visage framed with the metal vessels he carried. He laughed in merriment, amused by the argument between his retainers. Frustration clawed at you.

He had to be hiding something. And you had to find out what.

You tore your eyes away from Sinbad, and they fell to your young friends. Their colorful heads bobbed, and their faces were pink from laughter and youth. You had to find out soon, before it put your friends in danger.

Managing to ease your way out of sight, you were soon ducking behind a corner to escape.

-

You weren’t the only master of stealth, unknown to you. Once you looked away, Sinbad’s eyes trailed your every movement. He watched as you withdrew from the situation, eyes lingering on the wall you had disappeared behind once you were out of sight. He stood naturally and quietly, only catching the attention of the most observant person present.

Jafar, standing to the side as always, looked up. He folded his arms, his sleeves linking together.

“My king?”

Sinbad glided past him, speaking without interrupting his stride.

“I’ll be away for a minute or so. Don’t let anyone follow.”

Jafar bowed his head slightly, sinking it lower into the cover of his sleeves.

-

You found yourself walking deeper into the confines of the palace grounds. The festive music was little more than a whisper in the air, growing ever fainter as your steps continued. The liveliness of Sindria was beginning to fade into the distance. That mirage of delight and liveliness was a world away.

The presence of light was becoming harder and harder to come by, only supplied by the occasional torch. But you didn’t mind; you, in fact, preferred the dark, and the cover it provided. You’d need the darkness in this mission.

Step.

The relaxing atmosphere dissipated and your senses were sent on high alert.

You froze. You hadn’t sensed anybody in the nearby vicinity.

This stranger only let you hear their approach because they wanted you to.

You whirled around, fingers itching at your right side. They cackled threateningly with hissing electricity, before fizzling out in your shock of who it was.

You were confronted by Sinbad, his face in drastic shadow. You blinked dumbly—it was all you could do. He didn’t move or say anything, allowing you to become uncomfortable in the silence.

You collected yourself, urging your body to stop its reluctant tremble. You made an attempt to veil the poison in your eyes, smiling politely. You bowed your head, breaking eye contact.

“King Sinbad,” you spoke.

You flinched at his hearty laugh, followed by the clink of jewelry as he folded his arms. “Where’s that fight I just saw a second ago?” You didn’t respond. “Don’t tell me it’s all gone. And please, call me Sinbad.”

You looked up, focusing on red jewel that sat in his hairpiece, winking dangerously at you.

“You aren’t enjoying yourself?” Your eyes snapped to his—a mistake. “What are you doing so far away from the entertainment?” He smiled amicably, but every word was a loaded question. He sounded so sure of himself, so sure of you. In fact, you’d be surprised if he didn’t already know your intentions. Your eyebrows furrowed. Did he?

You furrowed your eyebrows, mind grasping at what to say. What was it about him that kept you from lying? You had done so easily in the past.

“Are you… spying on me?” he continued, grin withstanding. You flinched, blanching and speechless as you found it impossible to lie to him. He let out a hearty laugh at your face, and you narrowed your eyes. You reassured yourself as he bent over in mirth. He didn’t have any idea. He was playing with you.

“You…” you muttered, folding your arms and looking away.

“Well, either way, Yamraiha’s security enchantments are down, so I suppose you have the run of the place…” you heard him say amicably. Your ears perked at that.

You didn’t reply, standing there awkwardly in the silence. You weren’t looking, but Sinbad was looking at you through half-lidded eyes. You were a problem, yes, but a good-looking one nonetheless.

Your nerves then went on high alert when you heard him take a step forward. They screamed at you when he took another. You took a step back. He took a step forward.

Step back, step forward.

Step back, step forward.

Step back, step forward, until he was almost right on top of you.

You gasped when your back hit a pillar.

Sinbad was not affected by your hysterics at all. He gave you a knowing smile, his face framed with locks of violet. He shifted, his jewels clanging against one another melodically. They resounded in your ears like chimes. Warm torchlight refracted off his jewelry like molten sunlight, dizzying to look at. You swallowed, unable to look away from his eyes. His eyes were dangerously gold.

“Forgive me if I’ve gotten the wrong impression,” he started, before advancing one more step. His voice grew lower, right above a whisper. “But I get the feeling you aren’t very fond of me.” You visibly shivered, embarrassing to admit. Torchlight made the ring on his finger glimmer. “Tell me.”

Your entire being trembled once he said that, his voice tinny and bouncing off the walls. You blinked. Was that your imagination?

You could feel the strength radiating off of him, washing over you in waves. You felt your legs grow weaker. Sinbad was silent, waiting for a response from you. His molten gaze was unwavering. Your jaw tightened; you couldn’t stand those eyes. They were sharp, possessing a gross omniscience. He could see right through you, you knew. Look away, look away! you begged him inwardly.

Only the crackling of fire was audible, almost drowned out by your heart’s pounding. You opened your mouth.

“I–” An eyebrow cocked tauntingly. “I… don’t,” you responded, finally. His smile deepened, his eyes becoming gold slits in his shadowed face.

“Oho~” His voice was playful. “If I’ve done anything wrong, please, let me formally apologize.”

“As if you’d mean it,” you breathed before being able to stop yourself. His eyebrows rose imperceptibly.  Newfound courage flooded your body seeing his façade falter, if only for a bit. You stepped forward, almost chest to chest with him.

“From what I’ve seen… I-I don’t know if I can trust you.” What exactly were you doing? You were insulting a king, in his own country, in his own palace, after indulging in his food and entertainment. Sure you wanted to get to the bottom of this, but there were… smarter ways.

But you didn’t care. Something about Sinbad was decidedly off.

Humor entered his visage. “And here I thought my hospitality was more than generous.” You stiffened when you felt his fingers play with your lei. You shook him off, eyes darting to a bracelet you were sure was a metal vessel.

“For your own benefit, I’m sure,” you countered.

He gestured to his luxurious palace. “And what are these benefits I could get that I don’t already have?”

You narrowed your eyes; he must’ve known by now you weren’t a fool.

“Alibaba’s the displaced prince of Balbadd. When he comes of age to take back his kingdom, he will be a powerful ally. Aladdin’s a magi, a magician of creation. His power and influence could be limitless.” You were babbling at this point, unable to stop talking. “You could even make use of Morgiana if you wanted; she’ll become a formidable warrior.”

He didn’t say anything, still grinning. And? he seemed to be saying through his silence.

“And they all listen to me.” Your eyes narrowed as you and him stared at one another. “And I might tell them something you don’t like.”

Sinbad’s eyes were heavy on you, level and calm. He still had that damn smirk on his face, as if he was winning. He didn’t step back from you.  

“Well?” He placed his hands on his hips, leveling a dare on you with his gaze. “And if I ‘wanted to make use of them,’ what would you do about it?”

At the thinly veiled threat, you summoned your magoi, letting it surge around you in a small sphere. It didn’t faze him at all, not that you expected it to. Sinbad was more powerful than you could imagine. Frankly, you didn’t know what you meant by this display of power.

“Then I’ll stop you.”

He appraised you for a moment, before learning forward. He was completely unaffected by your power, penetrating its barrier with a flagrant hand. Your eyebrows furrowed. It took all the power you had in your body not to dart away. Sinbad’s hand cupped your face, and you gasped. He bent down to your ear. You put your hands on his chest to push him away as your magoi dissipated, but you had no strength to.  

He moved, his lips just brushing with the sensitive shell of your ear. He was beginning to whisper when you turned away, looking towards the moonlit fountains. You couldn’t move. Or didn’t want to? You scanned the vicinity, embarrassed. What would this look like to a passerby?

You struggled to even focus on his exact words, but you knew you were absorbing them somehow .

Whenever you–

–touch–

–ally with–

–heat–

–pleasure–

think of me.

What he was saying was enough to make you blush, but what was this intense effect? There was a definite ring to his voice, hollow and hypnotic. You were panting, the shell of your ear where his breath tickled turning numb. You struggled to keep your eyes open, not to close them and fall against his chest. Your insides were swirling with fire. You grew panicked once you felt the beginnings of an erection.

But you went flaccid once he withdrew his lips from your ear, your eyes shooting wide open. You looked at his face–God, it was smug. He smiled down at you, eyes glittering, before turning away.

He began his departure, continuing and exiting around a corner. Once you knew he was gone, your knees failed you. You leaned on the wall and exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You sank to the floor, clutching your chest. Your heart racked against your ribs. All he said… since when had Sinbad felt that way for you? Or was he playing around again? You felt the need to scurry back to your room–

You frowned. No, you steeled. You felt the niggling that you should go back, but there was no time for that. You bounded back up, and made your way throughout the palace grounds. You avoided the eye of any guards walking about, hopping from roof to roof until Sinbad’s office was in sight. You scanned the area, no one appearing to look your way. Sinbad had so carelessly admitted that Yamraiha’s spells were down.

You flew up to an open window. How careless his hubris had made him…

You set foot in his office, the room dim and shrouded in shadow. It was still, books on shelves and papers on his desks your only companion. How unsettling it was to be here at night. It felt a whole lot smaller. You traipsed to Sinbad’s desk, bending over to open a drawer.

When you reached for it, It was as if it was happening in slow motion. You absently wondered why. Your fingers made contact with the knob, and a jolt flickered in your brain.

You blinked, hand curled around the knob. Then you moaned suddenly–you slapped a hand over your traitorous mouth. From your hand’s place on your face, you could feel the heat of your cheeks. You bristled. In fact, all of you was hot. Why… were you so hot? You stood up straight, releasing the drawer knob against your own volition. Perhaps Yam enchanted sudden fever on trespassers?

You had to get back to your room. You walked away from the desk, steps growing weaker. Towards the door you went. Something was at work here, a spell, an enchantment, something. You could pinpoint the moment your mind began to fuzz. You could hear your heavy breathing in the silence of the room. You tripped—over what, you weren’t sure—and landed on all fours. You let out a deep groan, feeling searing heat pool to your groin. You scooted until your back was against the wall adjacent to the doors. Seeing no shadows underneath the crack of the doors, you surmised you were truly alone. No guards even? Was Sinbad always this trusting? You folded your arms as you sat against the wall.

You wanted to be touched, you realized. Of all times... You gritted your teeth.

… You were alone…

“No one…” you panted aloud. You writhed, blushing. “It’s…” Fine, your mind whispered to you. But that wasn’t your mind’s voice...

You’re alone, it’s fine, it said.

To your shame, your trembling hands fell tentatively from the fabric on your chest, instead slipping under them. As if by themselves, they ran across your warm skin. Behind the fuzziness of your mind, you were aware you should stop. But ‘Keep going,’ sang the choir in your mind, in voices that weren’t yours or anyone’s you knew. The pads of your fingertips ran over the buds of your nipples. Just a graze against them and you were hissing. Your touch felt like fire and ice. Forget slow and sensual, you thought. Your hands dove quickly underneath your waistband.

You gripped your length, groaning in relief. You could feel the pulse of your own erection, and you stroked it affectionately. Your head hit against the wall as it lolled back.

You closed your eyes. Firm touch, bronzed skin, and long, long hair like ink. Amber eyes, grinning lips, gold earrings. Your mind was flooded with flashes of a man with eager hands, kneading you. His face escaped you, but that didn’t matter. His tongue–that mattered. His body– that mattered. The feeling of him sinking into you– that mattered.

You let out a delirious sound, hand a pistoning blur on your erection. It leaked profusely, your makings falling onto your pants, dripping down your balls. You bucked into your own hand, an embarrassing motion but one you didn’t dare stop.

You brought your knees up as you curled into a ball on the floor. The sparse jewelry you wore–thin bands of gold and a layered pendant–clanged together in gold noises. Alongside your gasping, pleading, they were the only sounds that accompanied you in the dark of Sinbad’s office.

Sinbad– he was brought to mind suddenly. So suddenly you jerked at the thought of him. Yes… Sinbad .

Your frenzied eyes relaxed, glazing over.

“Sinbad,” you whispered like a secret. The fading logic in your brain was connecting the dots. He had something to do with this. He wanted to stop you. He had only left you alone because he knew you’d be–

You drew a breath, those thoughts lost in a breeze.

“Sinbad,” you said again, this time louder, more wanting. He wasn’t there to answer, but your mind conjured his body for you to beg at. His smile just a while ago, his whispering. How could he have left you like this? You whined with abandon, completely unconcerned with keeping quiet.

“Sinbad, Sinbad, Sinbad,” you gasped, unable to think or say anything else as you pumped your hands between your thighs.

You wanted him. You knew your administrations were enough to drive you to finish, but not to be satisfied. Not until he was there to help you. Your eyebrows knotted as you felt yourself push over the edge.

You came with a purr, mouth open and wet. It was nearly painful as you were rigid for a moment, before falling lax. You were a boneless pile on the floor, eyes closed and listening to your own breathing.

You wouldn’t be surprised if you fell asleep right there, basking in the silence and warmth of an orgasm.

There was the wind outside... the rustle of leaves... the soft beat of dreams… the chanting of citizens… One of your eyes opened a sliver. You bristled when the music from the city registered in your head again. Oh my God… oh my God

You pushed off the floor to sit up in Sinbad’s office– Sinbad’s office! Your cheeks flamed once more, but with humiliation. You looked at the hands holding you up. Your right hand was slick with cum and sweat, soiled with your shame. A niggle in your mind bode you to bring it to your lips.

“Oh my God,” you gasped. You rose to your feet, your knees wobbly and legs protesting, but rising nonetheless. Your mind was still a hazy cloud, but clearing.

You looked around the office. It looked so normal and untouched, as if nothing of note had occurred. As if you hadn’t just pleasured yourself in the king’s office, while pleasuring yourself to the king. You eyes fell to the floor, which beheld the only evidence of your being here. Your seed painted the carpet, so out of place and almost mockingly innocent. You hurriedly swiped at it with your fingers, wiping them on your clothes before you fell prey to the voice in your head telling you to taste them. This was mortifying.

You took one last sweep around the room under a nervous brow, before striding to the window and leaping out of it without a second thought. You’d retire to your room for the night. Hell to the festivities–you were too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye. How could you even look Sinbad in the eye again after this...

At least no one had been here to witness this… whatever this was, you thought furtively, descending like a feather to the ground with red cheeks.

At the same time, from outside the door, Sinbad applauded his restraint, having been eager the whole time to join you. He stepped away from where he had been listening and slipped out his hand from under his robes. You had just been too cute. And naive.

He began walking down the corridor, making his way back to the festivities. How lucky you can go back to your room, whereas a king will surely be missed... he thought, sighing with a smile. Sinbad licked his own fingers clean. And I’ve already overstayed my welcome.