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LOST IN A HAREM by Throne September 1. My wife Aliya has just informed me that we will be travelling to her native country of Balamlad. She is a freelance consultant for a number of international corporatons. Because she speaks several languages fluently, and even more so because she speaks Balamladian, she is often in demand to facilitate major deals. In this case she is going to work for a huge pharmaceutical concern in the US to try to close a deal with a smaller business in her homeland. From the information she has been given it appears that a signed contract could be worth billions, so her fee would be enough to keep us comfortable for the rest of our lives. She needs me to go with her because, in Balamlad, a woman does not travel without a husband. She has mentioned that females there have no rights whatsoever, and that if she hadn't come to the States with her parents, she would be a virtual slave. I'll be taking this diary with me so I can record the entire exciting trip. I'm very excited and can't wait to see what surprises are in store. And I have to admit that it's kind of a thrill to have Aliya dependent on me, even in a small way. She is so competent and confident that sometimes I feel like she's the husband and I'm the wife. I know that sounds silly, but I guess it's partly because I have a generous trust fund and have never had to work, except for a short stint in a bookstore, which I did for fun, and not out of need. In fact, I quit after two months because I met and married Aliya, and she needed me in our new home due to her busy schedule. So now we're going to do something TOGETHER, which will be a fun change from all the time I spend alone, occupying myself with books and movies. September 3. It turns out that we'll be leaving sooner than I expected. I wanted to shop for some new clothes to take along, but Aliya says not to worry because I can get everything I'll need once we're there. Sounds like fun. Maybe I'll go native... ha, ha, ha. I wouldn't mind seeing my lovely wife wearing the local fashions. One of the reasons I was initially attracted to her is her exotic looks. She has a dusky complexion and almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones and full lips, as well as thick black hair that falls halfway down her back, naturally crimped. She possesses a stunning figure, with a full bust and flaring hips, even though she is not heavy. I'll admit that my initial attraction was physical and, honestly, it's still mostly that, but I suppose that in time something more subtle will bloom. I guess. In the meantime, my sex life is fantastic. The way she moves and the sounds she makes send me over the top every time. She likes to joke that back in Balamlad she is just an average girl. Wouldn't THAT be something to see, women everywhere I looked who are as striking as my wife. September 5. We've been in the air all day. A smooth flight and we'll be there soon. Wow. Can't wait to land and drink in the local atmosphere. Less than an hour left before landing. We're here. It's like being in some old movie, with the unfamiliar architecture, spicy cooking aromas, and curiously dressed people. And yes, the women are fantastically sexy. Double wow. The only downside is that no one seems to speak English. If Aliya didn't know the lingo so well, we would be helpless. We were met by a tall imposing fellow named Memat, who represents the company she will be dealing with. He is handsome, with a complexion like my bride's, sharp features, and a neatly trimmed beard. He is wearing a Western suit and, if I'm not mistaken, Italian shoes. I'll have to get a pair of the latter... later. I already have more shoes than I need, but can't resist ones as well made as his. The two of them converse easily in non-English and, if this was anything but a business trip, I might be jealous. Oh, and he can speak our language when he wants to. We'll be having dinner later and, get this, it'll be at the PALACE. There's some kind of business/government connection, so Memat has an office there. Also, I gather, he's related to the Emperor or whatever the leader is called. Anyway, I hope the food isn't too strange. I might have to order a burger and fries... ha, ha, ha. And after dinner we can retire to our room and I'll have the experience of enjoying my wife in her own land. September 6. I still can't believe what happened last night. At dinner I sampled a local alcoholic beverage with an unpronounceable name. Guess I had too much because I wound up in the wrong bedroom and, while I thought I was groping my bride, the woman I had my hands all over turned out to be the Emperor's wife. His new wife, still a virgin, and not to be touched, least of all by an uninvited foreigner. I've broken about a half dozen major laws and we're in trouble deep. This will probably kill the business deal. And I might have to pay a fine or serve a night in jail or I don't know what. Will find out soon. It's worse than I thought. Memat got back to me, with a very worried Aliya accompanying him. It turns out that I could be arrested and thrown into prison for as long as the authorities deem appropriate, which could be a long time. I'm sick with worry but our host says he might have a solution. Will find out tomorrow. Aliya says she will be staying up late with him to work on the details. September 7. This is bizarre. They have come up with a way out, but I can barely believe it. To show my contrition, I'm supposed to assume the role of a female for a day or so. It sounds silly by our standards but Memat assures me that it is a simple way to avoid a gigantic problem. He also hinted that the prisons are horrible and my stay in one of them would involve complications that I would be most eager to avoid. After seeing the grim look that accompanied those words, I understood what he meant and said I would play along with whatever they wanted me to do to avoid, well... complications. I'll be in this uncomfortable cell again tonight. Thank goodness Memat is still watching out for Aliya. The way they feel about women, I wouldn't want her to be unaccompanied. September 8. One of the researchers from the company Memat works for came to my cell. He spoke no English but made me comprehend that I had to have some sort of shots. Maybe they're immunizations because I'm at risk of disease from the unsanitary conditions where I am. Anyway, he gave me several shots in my butt and then, to my surprise, one on either side of my chest. He also insisted on applying some sort of cream to my lips and even combing another preparation through my longish hair. Go figure. But I'm willing to do whatever it takes to get out of here and back with my wife. Aliya visited me later and said she didn't know anything about the shots, that she thought all I was going to have to do was sign some documents, confessing that I had been a bad boy and wouldn't do it again. That was to be the extent of my loss of manhood. I would be renouncing my male rights and around here that's a major matter, even though it wouldn't mean anything to me personally. Anyway, I'm relieved and my bride says Memat will untangle the matter. She assures me that he is in control and will have it all worked out by tomorrow. September 9. An incredible complication. There was a communications mix- up and someone thought I wasn't losing my male rights on paper, but had volunteered to test one of the new products Memat's people have concocted by taking rare local plants and altering their make-up with modern science. It seems the resulting drug is intended to alter a person's gender identity. Already I have lost my body hair. None remains from the eyebrows down. Because the drugs are top secret, we don't know yet what else they might do. Several young male techs had to examine me... naked. It was terribly humiliating, especially with my natural hirsuteness gone. Because of the language barrier, I didn't know what they were saying and couldn't ask questions. Then they left -- with all my clothes. Now I'm sitting here in the nude, hairless, with other people coming to gaze in at me and jabber about what they see. I keep asking for something to cover up with but can't get any response. And Aliya and Memat haven't been around. Where are they? September 10. My chest and bottom are tingling. My lips feel odd. And, most alarming, my crotch is alternately numb and oversensitive. I don't know what's happening to my body. Fell asleep, I guess for several hours. When I woke up and looked at my bare body, it was impossible to miss the fact that I've grown softer and there are twin swellings on my chest that resemble... is this possible? ...budding breasts. Plus, if I reach around behind, my buttocks seem to have enlarged. Could it be that whatever drugs these people concocted actually work, and are transforming me? I wish I could make myself understood enough to convince someone to give me some clothes. The guards just stare at me and have started to laugh derisively. September 11. More expansion to my chest and backside. In addition, my lips seem swollen, though I can't see them. And my hair has become silky, with more body. Much later, Memat appeared, followed by Aliya. She explained that, with me unavailable, for her to move around at all she had to be in the company of some other male, and he was the only choice. She even had to stay in his rooms. I was unsettled by that but desperate to escape my predicament. Unfortunately, there were other complications. My wife explained that the only other place for me to go was to the Emperor's harem. I would have to pose as its newest member. Otherwise, it was off to prison where, with my altered appearance, it was obvious what would happen to me. At least, in the harem, I would get something to wear. So, with no real alternative, I agreed. Aliya grew even more serious and then revealed that, if I were to speak any English, even in a moment of surprise, it would ruin everything. The only way to be sure that didn't happen was to use a spray Memat had obtained, which would partly disable my vocal chords. Close to tears, everything was getting so out of control, I could only nod my agreement. He produced a spray bottle with a tube extending from its top. The tube went partway down my throat and he squeezed twice. I was able to begin asking my bride how long this had to go on but, sooner than I expected, my voice failed me. All at once the only sounds I could produce were squeaks and moans. Aliya said some reassuring words but I didn't feel much comforted. She said not to worry about her because she was under Memat's protection. As they left she took his hand. Framed in the exit doorway, where the guards could see them, they turned to each other and kissed, rather too passionately I felt. Pangs of jealousy assailed me but I reminded myself that they had to keep up the appearance of having some sort of relationship. Even so, it was disturbing to imagine her sleeping in his rooms. It's late at night now. I can't deny what I've observed any longer. As my breasts (that's what they are) and feminine bottom continue to grow, my penis and testicles are shrinking. The guards have noticed and they point and snigger. One of them gestures to his mouth and then to my permanently puckered lips, after which he makes kissing noises. September 12. I have been moved to the harem, but it wasn't as much of an improvement as I had hoped for. An older woman, a sort of housemother, took me aside and used cosmetics to make my face more female looking. She did a good job. Maybe too good. I now have narrow, dark eyebrows, lined eyes, tinted lids, thickened lashes, accented cheekbones, and bright red lips. She put me in front of a mirror and I barely knew it was me. Plus, she styled my blond hair and it now resembles how I saw some women on the street wearing theirs, as a series of tight ringlets. Then she pierced my ears, ignoring the way I squeaked and moaned (my only two vocal options) as she did it. Afterwards my ears were pierced and I was fitted with heavy hoop earrings, and now I'm constantly aware of them. I was given clothes, if you can consider a few wisps of filmy material as being that. There's a piece around my hips and another across my chest, which I swear has gained another inch. My man parts were the final problem but she had a solution for that, too. The woman fitted me with a realistic false pussy, cleverly constructed to fit like it belonged there, at the same time allowing me to urinate if I sit, and even decorated with a triangle of blond pubic hair. After it had been on for five minutes she tried to tug it off but all she achieved was to cause me burning pain. She pantomimed a few gestures and I understood that she was telling me not to worry about it coming loose, that it was on to stay. Whatever it took to remove it, presumably some solvent, wasn't on hand and I was stuck with my privates locked down. Then she led me into the main harem room. There was a shallow pool in the middle with low couches around it and plenty of pillows on the floor. Tapestries draped the walls. But what grabbed my attention was the women. They were all at least as overwhelmingly gorgeous as my wife. I stood there gaping at them as they approached. One touched my unfamiliarly light hair. Another fingered my jutting nipples. All at once I was wildly aroused. But my penis was compressed in its inescapable prison. The more excited I became, the more it hurt. Surrounded as I was by a dozen examples of my dream woman, and not having had any sexual release for several nights, it was sheer torture. And that wasn't the worst of it. The women passed judgment on me. I was competition for the attention of the Emperor and there was a pecking order in effect. They didn't want me there. I could see at once that this wasn't going to go well. I hoped I wouldn't have to stay where I was for more than a day, or two at the most. September 15. This is the third day of my stay in the harem. The women hiss at me, smack my hands when I reach for anything, and don't let me share in the sweets that we are sometimes given. The 'housemother' seems mildly amused by my plight and does nothing to redress the unfair treatment. The Emperor came by earlier today. He is short and swarthy, with a goatee, and dresses in native robes. I caught his interest immediately. He stroked my hair and then put the palms of his hands on the bottoms of my growing breasts. They're about 36 DDs now, and he smilingly approved of their size. His thumbs rubbed my nipples and I was seized by waves of sexual energy. My knees got weak and I almost swooned. He liked that and whispered something into my ear in his own tongue. I could only make a small whimpering sound in response. Being touched that way, by another male, was psychologically devastating. I felt shaky after he was gone. But the real women weren't happy about his obvious delight in me. They said something to the older woman, who grinned and told them words they wanted to hear, more words that were incomprehensible to me. All too soon I knew what the message had been. The women converged on me and seized my arms. I tried to struggle but my former strength, which hadn't been considerable to begin with, was gone. They tore away my minimal coverings and marched me to a dark alcove, where they grabbed what they needed. Suddenly a stick was being held against the back of my legs. My wrists were bound together and then tied directly to that stick, so that I had to remain bent forward, my now full and shapely bottom outthrust, my largish breasts hanging downward. The stick got bound to my legs, forcing me to remain in that awkward pose. All at once there was a blaze of pain across my bare backside as someone struck me with what I looked back and saw was a crop. I tried to move away but could only take the smallest of steps, and had to hold my chin up to be able to see where I was going. This struck the women as hilariously funny. They moved away but one with the crop kept swinging, forcing me to make a circuit of the room and then repeat it. I wanted to holler but could only make loud whimpers. My bottom swayed and my breasts wobbled. The woman with the crop switched her swing and took a vertical stroke, up from below, landing it right between by buttocks. It hurt horribly and I mewled, begging wordlessly for pity that wasn't to be had. Several more strokes landed in the same area and I almost fainted from pain and fear. Then it stopped. I staggered to a corner and eased myself down onto several oversized pillows. My back ached from that unnatural posture. My backside blazed. The valley of my bottom hurt even worse. The women gathered a short distance away and gabbled among themselves. Then they went to the older woman and asked another question. She smiled wickedly in my direction and held up a delaying finger. From there she went to an old fashioned dial phone and made a call. After five minutes of nervous waiting I was relieved to see Aliya appear. She had a brief exchange with the woman and then came toward me. The harem dwellers watched avidly. Aliya sat alongside me. I opened my mouth reflexively but produced only a sad little peep. My wife stroked my head and leaned close. In a confidential voice she whispered, "A problem has come up, NeeNee." At the unexpected form of address I made an interrogatory squeak. My wife explained that she had to address me by the name under which I was posing. I begged her with my eyes but she just shushed me, going on to explain, "They have a very strict pecking order here. As the new girl you're at the bottom. But with the interest the Emperor showed in you, you might go right up to the top. Trouble is, if that happens, His Highness will want to sample your... um... favors." My mouth dropped open. She said, sounding reasonable, "Well, it IS his harem." I nodded defeatedly. She managed a smile and told me, "But there's a way to avoid the affections of the Emperor... and any men he might choose to loan you to. Oh yes, that could easily happen. So, to keep you at the bottom of the order, and to take his attention off you, is easy." I sighed in relief. "All you have to do is keep the other women happy." Seeing what must have been incomprehension written all over my new face, my bride said, "Keep them happy sexually." I looked down toward my incapacitated penis. It was her turn to sigh, but the sound was exasperated. "With your mouth, NeeNee. You have to keep them satisfied with your lips and tongue. And fingers. You understand. That way your status will remain that of, well... house lezzie slut." I have her a pleading look. That was something I had never done for any woman, even her. Now I was expected to perform that unsavory act for a dozen females who didn't get much individual sex from their Master, and he probably didn't concern himself with their orgasms or lack thereof when he did take them to bed. My mouth opened and closed but there were no words. Aliya patted me on the bare shoulder and said, "Good. Then it's all settled." It was as if she didn't understand my issues with this latest change. There I was, naked and bound, with heavy breasts and a big round bottom, my body denuded of hair, lips puffed up, face remade, genitals compressed under a faux mound. I was surrounded by women who totally turned me on but I could get no release. And now I was expected to serve as a sex toy. To all of them. On demand. While they abused me at will. I blinked back tears. My wife continued to smile as if nothing was amiss. She made an air kiss as she stood. When she turned away I could only look at her desirable bottom, encased in a short tight skirt. She strolled away, hips rolling, and the others moved in. September 16. Had to cut my previous entry short. But I want to keep writing to maintain what's left of my sanity. The women released me from my bondage and promptly replaced it with something worse. My arms were forced behind my back and bound into a single sleeve, made of some sort of leaves and vines. It was tight to begin with, but then they made me take a dip in the pool to get it wet. After that a fire was started in a corner fireplace and I was made to kneel with my back to it. The leaves were heated and dried and began to shrink. They became tighter and tighter, until my arms were at their limit. The vines seemed to shrink at the same rate. With my arms pulled back harder, my big boobs were thrust out. The women laughed and played with my nipples, seeing how distractedly aroused I became, finding that amusing, and teasing me that way more and more, until I was in a helpless frenzy of frustration. Only then did they take me to one of them who was reclining on several pillows and make me kneel between her outstretched legs. They pushed my face down into the bay of her fleshy thighs and pressed my lips against her moist and headily fragrant slit. I took a breath and, fearful of punishment if I did not comply, began to lap at her. She moaned with pleasure and the others began a new, enthusiastic conversation among themselves. They couldn't believe their good fortune. A helpless love slave had been given to them. I licked and sucked her through two noisy climaxes while the others watched intently. It was completely shameful for me. As soon as she was done, I was swung around like some piece of portable equipment, to face another eager recipient of my attentions. Someone applied the crop to my already tender bottom, delivering a half dozen smarting blows, just to warn me against slacking. I got my tongue working at once, all but burying my face in the second juicy target. It went on and on like that, hour after hour, until they were sated and I was exhausted. My will was broken. I knew that I would never be able to fight back. They finally cut the vines and leaves away from my arms and I worked the circulation back in and the pain back out. Another indignity was added as a ring was clipped into my nose. The points nearly met through my septum. They applied some sort of powder to staunch the bleeding and then immediately began leading me around like a piece of prize livestock. I had to walk behind them and crawl behind them, even slither on my belly with my full bust sliding along under me. It was demeaning but, at the same time, I was still getting a constant show from their near naked bodies. I was in a weird combination of heaven and hell. That was the rest of yesterday. I fell into a deep sleep when they let me. As soon as I awoke this morning they were ready with fresh demands. First there was a game made of seeing who could tease me to the greatest heights of excitation. It was a 12-way tie. Then I had to kiss them all over, up their legs and down their backs, with special attention to sucking their nipples. After they were all sufficiently worked up, I had to give each one an orgasm with my mouth. My hands were free for that and I couldn't keep myself from touching them, their warm legs and plush hips. My poor penis strained vainly against its captive state and my balls were soon throbbing uncomfortably. Then one of the women decided it would be amusing to have me use my mouth on her bottom. I resisted and they immediately put me into new bondage. This time I had my thumbs lashed together while my arms were behind me. Then my big toes got the same treatment, after which the two pairs of digits were joined with a brass ring. My body was bent back in a painful bow with my face uppermost. That made it easy for one of them to stand over me and offer the bottom I had balked at using my mouth on. This time, with the additional motivation of having my nipples pinched and twisted, between squeaking attempts to scream, I began the odious task. It was a hit, just my bad luck, and they lined up for more and more ass worship from my now very dutiful mouth. It went on for what seemed like an endless time before I was at last allowed to catch my breath. For three minutes. After which the day's pussy licking began in earnest. September 17. Aliya came today, with Memat, and they freed me from the harem. I was taken to his rooms and sat on a soft chair, mumbling my gratitude wordlessly. Aliya perched on the edge of the bed and gave me an understanding look. I felt so good... until she told me why I was there. "Matters have gotten even more complicated," she said with a note of regret. "The officials though my relationship with Memat might be fake. We know they're capable of spying on us so we had to make it... official. I'm sure you understand the necessity." My eyes must have been bugging out. "And they're kind of suspicious of you, so we have to prove that you're here as a sort of slave to us. So all you have to do is be here while we... make it official... again." I thought I saw Memat smile at that but couldn't be sure. Aliya didn't seem too effected by the unnatural situation. He came to her, they embraced, and she kissed him passionately. She gave me a sidelong glance and said soto voce, "Just remember that we're making this sacrifice to protect you... NeeNee." She giggled, inappropriately it seemed to me, and then they began to undress each other. Memat said to me, "We have to make you look useful, NeeNee, so take that fan over there and cool us." I looked in the corner and there was a long pole that ended in a fan of real feathers. Feeling detached from reality, I took it and began to slowly stir the air, cooling them while they began foreplay. Soon they were on the bed, a pair of practiced and enthusiastic lovers. I couldn't stop staring as he revealed a long, thick cock and she handled it happily. They touched each other everywhere. She laid down willingly and parted her legs in invitation. He got into position between them and let the end of his rigid member meet the vestibule of her glistening sex. I couldn't look away as he unhurriedly penetrated my bride and then began slowly pumping. My own penis strained to get hard but remained frustrated. I whimpered loudly; at the sound my wife began panting. Memat increased his tempo and she thrust back at him. They remained joined for over a half hour before sharing volcanic climaxes. At last their twin finishes subsided and he rolled off her, so they could lay contentedly side by side. I sniffled and tried not to weep. My wife smiled at me and winked. My knees trembled. I took a deep breath and was aware of my large bust rising and falling. My earrings swayed slightly. The air I was fanning tickled my receptive nipples. September 21. It's been four times that I've witnessed my wife and her new lover in bed together. I've also continued to be a sex slave and object of abuse for the harem inhabitants. They have been very creative. At one point I was bound naked with my thumbs attached to my earrings, wearing Western style high heels, but with nails driven through the soles so I couldn't rest me feet there, but had to maintain an extreme arch in my feet, making walking a bizarre and difficult spectacle. That was just one of the many techniques they used. Those shrinking leaves and vines have appeared several times, being used to uncomfortably compress my now 42 DDD bust, or to hold my plush thighs together. At least once a night I have to go to Memat's rooms and be there while they make spirited love. To further explain my presence (my wife assures me this is the case) I have to use my mouth on her sex, to prepare her for penetration. The most recent time I was there, I also had to use it afterwards to clean up what her lover deposited, and there was a LOT of it. She has also heard from my harem 'sisters' about my service to their bottoms, and is looking forward to enjoying that herself. She keeps reminding me that these details add to the believability of our performance. Memat does not object. September 25. My curves seem to have at long last stop expanding. My bust is an astounding 52 DDDD. My ass is huge. The women take more delight than ever in binding and hurting me, as well as keeping me reduced to their sexual plaything. Aliya came to see me today. She didn't seem at all regretful as she detailed what a diplomatic tangle my circumstances have become. She told me not to worry, though, because she'll try to work it all out when she returns to the states tomorrow... with Memat. My wife assures me that she will be back to finalize everything in a month. Or three. Or not much more. All I have now is this diary. September 26. Aliya here. My poor husband, now called NeeNee. Memat and I have agreed that we will not speak his original name ever again. And he never used it in this diary, so that's the end of that. Of course, we had to report him as deceased in the wilds of my county, so all the legal matters will be worked out with that understanding. Anyway, the business deal was successfully transacted before we departed and now Memat and I are wealthy beyond our dreams. We will have to share some of this good fortune with our NeeNee. When we get back there -- it will be a total of nine months from now -- I want to reveal to him/her that the make-up he's wearing is permanent. And it will be time to have his pussy patch changed by then. I can't wait until he sees that his penis and balls are the size of a peanut and two chick peas. But we definitely want to do something nice for him. I'm thinking of making his new puss patch a permanent one that he'll never have to have changed again. Memat says it should be more ear piercings and then rings in his nipples. Big rings. Also, the 'girls' had been trying various nose rings on him/her before we left, and something permanent in that department might be nice, too. Anyway, we're so fabulously rich now, not to mention that NeeNee's trust fund will soon be mine, we should just get him ALL those gifts and maybe some more. But I don't think he should have this diary back, or any diary. He doesn't need any distractions from the new life that I have given him. THE END. This little epic was inspired largely by the stories of CC. You should check out his THE MALE AMAZON and leave him a comment.