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The Battered Lamp

Collection 2

by

Reed James

Copyright © 2014, 2016 by Reed James

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the expressed written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. Published in the United States of America, 2014, 2016

All characters depicted in this work of fiction are over the age of eighteen (18).

Cover Photo © Dwiedemann | photosassy | appleeyesstudio | Sassyphoto | Depositphotos.com

Logo © Anton Brand | Dreamstime.com

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Naughty Excerpt from “The Battered Lamp Collection 2”

“I need you so bad,” she whispered in his ear. “I had trouble sleeping. I need to be with you, Kyle. I'm your slave.”

“You fucking stud, Kyle,” Pablo grinned, punching my shoulder. “Christy's going to kill you.”

“I'm going to do something to him,” his girlfriend declared. “Jeez, do I need to get a firehouse and spray you down, Chyna?”

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Come on, we need to talk,” Christy declared, then glared at Pablo. “What are you looking at?”

“Just watching the show. Curious to see what happens when a guy gets his balls torn off.”

Christy hooked her arm around Kyle's. “Sorry, any ball busting's going to be done in private. So get lost!”

“Sorry,” Kyle muttered. “I told her not to.”

“I guess you have to punish me, Master,” Chyna purred. “You could spank my ass.” She leaned in, whispering, “I'm not wearing any panties under my skirt.”

“You need to tone it down, slut,” Christy muttered as they walked. “Everyone's talking behind my back about how you stole my boyfriend.”

“Is that why Iseul gave me the stink eye?” Kyle asked.

His girlfriend nodded. “Everyone thinks you're cheating on me, and I'm too stupid to see it.”

“Sorry,” he muttered. A spike of guilt stabbed through him. But they're my wives. I'm sure Christy will understand Aaliyah. “Christy, there's something—”

“In here,” Christy interrupted, opening up the janitor's closet he fucked Chyna in yesterday. His girlfriend tugged him in and Chyna followed. “Your slave needs to be fucked so she can control herself.”

He gaped at her. “You brought me here so I could fuck another woman?”

“I know, I'm the greatest girlfriend in the world,” she smiled.

Chyna rubbed her ass against Kyle's pants. “Ohh, fuck me, Master! Can't you smell how hot I am?”

There was a tart musk in the air, and her ass felt great rubbing against his cock. “Down on your hands and knees, slave!”

“Oh, yes!” she moaned, dropping to her knees. She flipped up her skirt to expose her dusky ass.

It looked so inviting, he knew where he was sticking his cock. He knelt behind her, smearing his cock against her bushy cunt. That wouldn't do. “Chyna. Tonight I want you to shave your bush.”

“I will! Fuck me, please! Don't tease me, Master!”

She gasped as he shoved his cock up her ass, shivering in pain and pleasure. Her ass was so tight, squeezing his cock like a vice as Kyle worked it deeper and deeper into her bowels. She let out a wordless howl, and then her asshole squeezed hard his cock.

“I'm cumming!” she screamed. “I'm cumming!”

“Keep it down, bitch,” Christy muttered. “I didn't ward this place against sound!”

Then to Kyle's amazement, she reached under her long, purple skirt, and pulled her panties down. He caught a brief glimpse of her brown-furred pussy, before she pulled Chyna's face beneath her skirt into her cunt.

Lick, bitch!” she ordered. “That'll keep you quiet.”

To find out what happens next, read on!

Acknowledgments

I just want to acknowledged my beta readers, helping me fight against bad grammar, missing question marks, and the occasional mistyped names! So thanks to b0b and Umbroso.

Harem of Passion

The Battered Lamp 4

by

Reed James

Harem of Passion

Thursday, January 16th – South Hill, Washington

“We're going to be late, Fatima!” Kyle hollered from the bottom of the stairs.

The front door opened and his mom stepped in, looking a little tired after her long day at work. “Hey, there,” she said, smiling and hugging him. Faiza was a close friend of Kyle's deceased mom and took him in after his parents died.

He felt his cock harden as her breasts pressed against him. You've already had your sister, so why not your mother?

No! he shouted at his lust. I'm drawing the line at Mom!

We'll see.

“Off to practice?” she asked.

“Yeah, if Fatima ever gets her ass down here!” He yelled the last part.

His childhood friend and now wife came down the stairs, giggling. She and Kyle were both dressed in white tunics tucked into dark-blue trousers with wide, skirt-like legs called hakama. Kyle had a shinai over his shoulder, a bamboo practice sword used in Kendo, and a duffel bag full of his armor in the other. His wife had a similar duffel bag and a long, wooden spear—a practice yari.

“Here's my ass!” she exclaimed, presenting her shapely rear to Kyle. “It's all yours!”

Kyle felt a sudden chill in his stomach. Their mom didn't know and, more importantly, wouldn't understand about he and his sister's new-found intimacy—she was Kyle's second wife, and had spent the last hour making love with Aaliyah.

“Come on, give it a squeeze,” she purred. “I know you love it.”

“Fatima!” he gasped, glancing at his mom, but she had an amused expression on her dusky, beautiful face.

“Don't be bashful just because of me,” his mom smiled. “Your sister does have a cute ass.”

“What?”

“Aaliyah took care of everything,” Fatima whispered. “Mom understands about our love.”

Before Kyle could react, she proved it by throwing her arms around his neck and thoroughly kissing him. Her lithe body rubbed against him, her tongue shoved into his mouth, and her arms tightened about his neck. It was a wonderful kiss, and the blood pumped hot through his veins.

Kyle was breathless when Fatima broke the kiss; his cock rock hard. “You're okay with this, Mom?”

“Of course.” She sounded puzzled. “You're a loving, passionate young man. I can't wait to meet your other wives. I assume Christy will be one of them?”

He didn't know what to say. He did hope that his girlfriend would be okay with being his third wife. She didn't have a problem with him and Chyna—the sex slave he somehow ended up with yesterday—so maybe she could understand Aaliyah. But his little sister? Kyle found it hard to imagine that anyone not befuddled by Aaliyah's powers would think incest was okay.

I could just have Aaliyah befuddle Christy. Kyle froze at that thought. Then shook his head, No, then she wouldn't be Christy. If he loved her, he couldn't tamper with her free will. That was the line. He wouldn't cross it for any reason. No matter what the consequences.

“C'mon, let's go!” Fatima exclaimed, grabbing his hand and tugging. “We're gonna be late!”

“Whose fault is that?” Kyle asked.

She rolled her eyes. “Don't give me that! You were enjoying it, too! So let's go!”

He let his little sister—no, she's my wife now, too—pull him by the arm outside to the Ford Taurus—it was Faiza's, but she let him drive it. They threw their bags in the backseat and climbed in. Kyle started his car, then noticed the huge grin plastered on her face.

“What?” he asked, eyebrows furrowing.

Her hand reached out, stroking his crotch. His cock hardened in an instant. “Wouldn't it be naughty if I sucked your cock while you drove?”

Yes!

The more cautious side of Kyle raised objections. “It would be dangerous. And someone could see us.”

“I don't care! I've always wanted to do this! So start driving, and I'll start sucking!”

Kyle fought down his lust. “No. It's dangerous. We could get in a car accident.”

Fatima tossed her hair, glaring at him, her dark eyes full of fire. “Why do you always have to be so down to earth? Can't you just take a risk?”

“Someone has to be practical.” He mollified his tone. “I just couldn't risk you getting hurt, okay.”

That brought a smile to her face. Her hand snaked into his pants and grasped his cock. “Aaliyah!”

Yes, my sister-wife, Aaliyah's voice whispered in his mind.

“I wish for Kyle's car to drive us safely to our dojo so I can suck on his cock without any risk,” Fatima wished.

Done! Have fun!

“We will,” giggled Fatima.

His car started backing down out of their driveway on its own, leaving an uneasy feeling in Kyle's stomach. The steering wheel turned, then it went into drive, and smoothly accelerated down the street. It even signaled at the stop sign before turning.

“There, problem solved!” Fatima declared, then his little sister bent over and sucked his cock into her hungry mouth.

“Shit!” he gasped, leaning back in his seat.

Her mouth was wonderful, hot and wet. She sucked noisily, bobbing up and down. Her tongue flicked about, brushing his sensitive tip and sending pleasure shooting through him. He ran his hand through her black hair.

“That's wonderful,” he moaned. “Oh, wow!”

She popped off his cock, peering up at him. “See, just relax and enjoy what Aaliyah can do for us. Don't worry about things so much. Just relax and let your little sister suck you dry!” Then her mouth engulfed him again.

His phone rang. “Call from Christy,” echoed through his car's speakers, his phone was synced up to his stereo by Bluetooth.

Shit! he thought. He didn't want to answer the phone. He wanted to enjoy his little sister's blowjob. But it was Christy calling.

“You gonna answer it?” Fatima asked, lapping at his cock with her tongue. “She'll get mad if you ignore her!”

“Stop blowing me.”

“Nope!”

“I can't talk to my girlfriend while you—”

Her hand snaked out and hit the button on the stereo, answering the phone.

“Hey, cutie,” he quickly answered, trying to sound casual, and painfully aware of the wet, slurping sounds of his sister's sloppy blowjob. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” she answered. “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Cool.” he answered.

His balls felt like they were about to explode, excited by talking to his girlfriend while Fatima's wonderful, sucking mouth worked on his dick. He was going to cum while talking to his girlfriend on the phone, pouring his jizz down his sister's throat.

“Cut that out Fatima,” he told his sister, not wanting to cum while talking to Christy.

“What's going on?” his girlfriend asked.

Fatima sucked harder.

“My sister is being her same bratty...” He came, gasping and grunting, as he pumped three large blasts of jizz down her throat. “Damn, Fatima! That was...” He stopped himself before he blurted out “an amazing blowjob.”

“What did she do?” Christy asked, fascinated.

“What did she do?” he asked, repeating her question as his mind searched for an answered. “She...uh...goosed me.”

“I goosed him good!” Fatima giggled, cum staining her lips. “So, tomorrow night you're putting out for my brother, right?”

His cheeks reddened. Kyle found it so bizarre to hear his sister talk to his girlfriend like this, even if she had just blown him.

Christy answered after a moment, her voice a little higher pitched, “If he plays his cards right.”

“I want you to knock his socks off!” his sister exclaimed.

“Fatima, this isn't...” Kyle tried to say.

“Give it to him good!” Fatima continued.

“He will be more than happy when I'm done,” his girlfriend purred.

“Good,” Fatima declared. “We have to go, we're at the dojo.”

Kyle blinked, realizing his car had already driven them here, and was pulling into the parking lot.

“Have fun. Love you, Kyle.”

“I love you, too,” he answered. “Can't wait for tomorrow night.”

His sister grasped his cock, still hard despite cumming down her throat. He was excited for tomorrow night, looking forward to making love to Christy.

“I can see how hard he is!” Fatima chimed, and he quickly hung up before she could say anything else.

The car parked itself in front of their uncle's dojo. “Bushido Dojo” was written on the building with English letters stylized to look Japanese. Uncle Ethan, their dad's older brother, ran the dojo and he prided himself on teaching all of the Japanese warrior arts. Kyle and his sister both studied Aikido, a martial art originally designed for armored samurai warriors and focused on grappling. Kyle also studied Kendo, the art of the katana, while Fatima studied Sojudo, the art of the yari, a type of spear with a long, straight blade.

Kyle tucked his cock back into his pants, and grabbed his duffel bag. His uncle was a short, wiry Japanese man with an iron grip. “Hey, Kyle,” he smiled, crushing his nephews hand so hard Kyle feared one day his bones would break. “And there's my beautiful princess.” Kyle thought it unfair that his uncle hugged Fatima like she was his own flesh and blood.

“Hey, Uncle Ethan,” she answered.

“Sensei,” Kyle nodded. Unlike Fatima, he had to refer to their uncle as Sensei at the dojo. Fatima was the daughter his uncle never had.

The Dojo was decorated like an old-fashioned, Japanese dojo. Dark-stained hardwood covered the floor and a rice paper covered the walls. Japanese watercolors hung from thick, dark-brown support beams. Other students were here. Tonight was weapon training. There were groups training in Kendo and Sojudo and out back a group were practicing Kyudo, Japanese archery.

His eyes froze on a graceful beauty drawing back a yumi—the Japanese asymmetrical bow, the grip wasn't in the center of the bow, but was only a third of the way up the bow—to her smooth cheek and releasing an arrow at a target. She was Japanese, with long, black hair, and pale, delicate features that seemed carved from porcelain.

“She's new,” Uncle Ethan said, standing at his shoulder. “Just started today. Her father's some executive running his company's American subsidiary.”

“She's beautiful,” Kyle blurted out.

“Don't you have a girlfriend?” his uncle asked.

“Kyle's a player,” giggled Fatima.

Right. I have two wives and a girlfriend. And a sex slave. That's more than enough women for one guy, Kyle reminded himself. But he couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was radiant and graceful. His heart beat faster. Staring at the Japanese girl reminded him of the first time he laid eyes on Christy and the way she had stolen his breath away.

Strangely, it also reminded Kyle of Aaliyah materializing out of the lamp and appearing on his bedroom floor.

“You have practice now,” Fatima said, nudging him. “You can gawk at pretty girls later.”

The young woman, maybe nineteen, seemed to feel his boring gaze on her, and she turned, nodding her head at him, then drew a second arrow, aimed carefully, and released. So beautiful!

His sister made a purring sound. “She is gorgeous, isn't she? I wouldn't mind licking her pussy.”

“Kyle, time for practice. Stop daydreaming!” his uncle barked.

“Sorry, Sensei.”

“Told you,” giggled Fatima. It seemed really unfair that his sister, who was slacking off with him, wasn't scolded at all.

Kyle had trouble focusing during practice. He kept glancing at the Japanese beauty through the mesh visor of his helmet, and his opponents kept landing blows with their shinai, bamboo practice swords, on his armor.

“Young men,” his uncle muttered in disgust. “Come on, Kyle. Focus!”

He grit his teeth, but when he wasn't staring at the girl practicing her archery, he was thinking of Christy, Aaliyah, and Fatima. How could I get Christy to accept this? How could she find incest tolerable even if she could share me with other women?

A shinai cracked across his forearm and he winced. “Pay attention,” Hudson, his sparring partner snarled. “Next time, I'll crack you in the balls!”

Kyle bore down, focused, and made through the rest of practice without getting his balls cracked. Even with the armor on, it would hurt. He didn't do great though, but he survived with his balls intact. His sister had an amused smile on her flushed face as she skipped up to him, her practice spear slung over a shoulder.

“It must be tough being a guy,” she grinned. “Whenever you get a stiffy, you can't concentrate on anything.”

He grunted, his forearm still smarting, and started stripping off his padded armor.

“Her name is Fumi” Fatima whispered, removing her own armor.

“What?”

“The bow girl.” There was a sly smile on her face. “I could have Aaliyah arrange for a more intimate meeting.”

Kyle flushed and hesitated. It would be wrong, like with Christy. “No. Keep Aaliyah out of this.”

Fatima pursed her lips, examining him. “Ohh, are you in love? Three women aren't enough for your heart?”

Her words froze him. Was this love? It was similar to the same, heart pounding feeling he had for Christy—and Fatima and Aaliyah. You will need four before you claim the throne. Aaliyah's words echoed in his head. The Genie expected him to have four wives. Christy and Fumi would make four.

Maybe Christy was fine with sharing him, but he didn't even know Fumi. Such a beautiful name.

Mind whirling with four different women's faces, Kyle stumbled to the car, duffel bag slung over his shoulder. He threw it in the backseat and climbed into the driver seat. Fumi was still practicing. He could see her in the archery range from where he parked. Her black hair was gathered in a long ponytail that fell down the back of her white tunic, and the hakama she wore hugged her, molding to her curves

His cock hardened.

Done! Aaliyah's voice echoed in his head.

“What?” he asked, realizing his sister must have made a wish.

He glanced over to see Fatima's naked, slim, olive-toned body flushed, and her small breasts topped with hard, dark nipples. Lust burned in her eyes, and she seemed to leap at him from the passenger seat, straddling his waist. His car seemed to elongate, his seat sliding back, the steering wheel giving her enough room to straddle his lap comfortably.

“Fatima...”

Her kiss caught his words off, shoving her tongue deep into his mouth, while her hands grasped his hard cock. Her skin pressed against his, and Kyle realized his clothes had vanished, too. Her hands guided him to her pussy; she sank down him, and they both moaned with passion. She was so tight and warm and wet and wonderful.

“Oh, god, I was so horny in practice thinking about Fumi,” she purred in his ear. He turned to look at the Japanese girl as his sister licked his ear. “I bet you can't wait to feel her pussy about your cock!”

His sister pumped her cunt on his cock, and he couldn’t help groaning. “What if someone sees us?”

“Don't worry, Aaliyah is taking care of that!” she moaned. “Oh, wow! I love your cock!”

Kyle couldn't take his eyes off Fumi as his sister rode him. Her lips kissed and sucked at his ear, hissing dirty ideas to him: “I want to suck your cum out of her pussy! Out of her ass!” and “I can't wait for you to bend her over and fuck her hard!” and “I want to kneel down next to her and we'll both lick your cock!”

I want that, too.

“Yes! I want to fuck her pussy while she eats yours out, Fatima!” he roared, squeezing her ass.

Fatima's cunt convulsed on his cock. “Oh, yes! That'd be hot!” She bucked, cumming hard. “I can't wait! Make her your wife! I want to share her with Aaliyah and Christy!”

An image of him in bed with all four girls, loving and fucking each other, flooded his mind. Christy's pale, Fumi's light-olive, Fatima's dusky, and Aaliyah's dark skin all writhing together. Kissing, sucking, licking. And he was in the middle. Four wonderful, beautiful women squirming about him, sharing him.

“I love you!” he yelled out as he came. “I love you all!”

Somehow he would have them all. Woo them, convince them, and make them his. He had two, and almost had Christy, and he would get Fumi as well. Fatima collapsed in his arms, breathing on his neck. He held her, savoring her feel as he watched the Japanese girl unstrung her bow and covered it in a cloth sheathe.

“She is gorgeous,” Aaliyah purred.

Kyle jumped. His Genie wife sat in the passenger seat, her dusky tits heaving with excitement. She was naked, and he noticed her hand buried between her thighs, pumping away at her pussy. Adding her spicy scent to Fatima's tart filling the car.

“Aaliyah!” gasped Fatima. Then his sister squealed and tackled his Genie wife. The passenger seat leaned back as his sister rubbed her cunt into Aaliyah's. “Do you feel that? That's our husband's cum leaking out of me!”

“I can feel it!” moaned the Genie. “And your hot, little cunt rubbing against mine! Harder! I need to cum, too!”

His car shook as the two women tribbed with passion. Kyle couldn't help but watch his sister's naked ass clench as she writhed against Aaliyah. They were just so goddamned beautiful. His cock was hardening, and he stroked it.

The rap at his window startled him. For a moment fear flooded through him; he was naked, and two women fucked in the seat next to him. Then he remembered that Aaliyah had taken care of everything. He started to relax and turned

His heart caught in his throat.

Fumi stood at his window, a soft smile on her delicate face. Kyle's heart hammered as he quickly rolled down his window. “Uh, yes?”

He winced. Smooth, idiot.

“I love your cunt!” Fatima gasped next to him. Color flushed his cheeks, and he tried to ignore the girlish squeals.

“I saw you watching me,” Fumi said, her words musical with her accent.

“Eh, yeah. You're, um, very good.”

She blushed. “You seemed distracted during your practice.” A shy smile spread on her lips, and she bowed. “I am so sorry for breaking your concentration.”

“It's alright. You were just so graceful. I couldn't help looking.” he swallowed, keenly aware of his wives writhing in passion next to him, apparently invisible to Fumi. She frowned, glancing at the car. Is she wondering why the car is rocking? “I hope it didn't make you uncomfortable.”

She shook her head. “No. When a cute, young man stares at you it's...” She blushed, clapping hands over her mouth.

Kyle did a mental elbow pump. Then he swallowed, and asked, “So, um, you're new in town?”

“Yes. My family only moved here last week.”

“Well, maybe I can take you out for a bite to eat? Say Saturday around four.” Christy had her book club meeting on Saturday, so he wouldn't have to worry about his girlfriend wanting to get together.

She gave him a considering look. “I think I would like that.” She worried her lip. “I do not even know your name.”

“Kyle Unmei. You're Fumi, right?”

“Unmei? You are related to the Sensei?”

“My uncle.”

She smiled. “Then we have a date, Unmei-san.”

“Way to go, big bro!” moaned Fatima, still tribbing against Aaliyah. “Our husband is a player!”

Fumi walked away and Kyle couldn't help grinning like a fool. Everything had become amazing since Aaliyah entered his life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Friday, January 17th

“Aaliyah,” a voice whispered, shaking the Djinn's shoulder.

She had been dreaming of her father's palace, idling in the pleasure garden watching Kyle and Fatima sport in a pool. There had been chains about my wrists though. Why? Like a mirage on the horizon, her dream was hazy and indistinct, but the chains worried her and she had a feeling someone close had tricked her into them.

“Wake up, sleepy head,” the voice whispered in her ear, hot breath tickling her neck. Fatima's voice.

Her eyes fluttered opened. Fatima's face was inches from her own, her dark, almond-shaped eyes peering into hers. A grin split her sister-wife's face, naughty and mischievous. Next to Aaliyah, Kyle shifted in his sleep, rolling onto his side, his broad, dark-olive back facing her.

“I had an idea,” Fatima giggled. “Let's wake him up in style!”

The unease Aaliyah felt about the dream vanished as Fatima whispered her idea.


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