Love's Slave (manxman)

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Kamal

(The Sisters top is gorgeous actress Ameera Al Taweel my idea of Farrah. Bottom Left Priyanka Chopra, my idea of Nasim, and Yami Gatum, my idea of Yazmin.)

It's been several days since I'd discovered Jameel in a delicate position in his room and I swear my dick has yet to go down. I've practically rubbed the damn thing raw, and I'm sure there is not an ounce of come left in my balls, and still the damn column of flesh refuses to cooperate with me. I have taken to wearing my robes instead of Western dress pants and shirts around the house in my desperate attempt to hide my raging hard on underneath the flowing material of my thawb. At the moment though, my raging libido was the least of my troubles.

My mother and my sisters were all huddled around the breakfast table excitedly chattering about taking a shopping trip into the city. My father was as usual stuffing food into his face with one hand while holding his computer tablet in the other. I was sure the thing was trending the latest stock values. He wasn't paying the women the least bit of mind.

My brothers were also engaged in a not so friendly tug of war with the dish of what was left of Fatteh Hummus. They were not paying the ladies any attention either, but I was because the more they going on and on about taking Jameel with them to shop for clothes. He looked almost stricken by the idea. He had long since stopped eating and he sort of folded up into himself and I knew I needed to intervene. I got up from the table and held my hand out to Jameel and requested. "Ta'ala (Come with me)."

I tried not to puff my chest out with pride as he immediately placed his delicate hand in mine as I helped him to his feet. By now the women went silent and from the expression on their faces they immediately knew that they had unconsciously agitated the beautiful man that was now clinging to my land like it was a lifeline.

"Yrja eadhr lana (Please excuse us)." I gave my family a slight nod before steering Jameel out of the bright kitchen and down the hall towards his room.

He followed me without saying a word and the minute his bedroom door closed behind us, he let go of my hand and scurried across the room to his bed. He climbed up on the silken comforter and sat at the foot of his bed.

"Don't agitate yourself little one, no one is going to make you do anything that's going to make you uncomfortable. If you don't want to go into the city to go shopping, you don't have to." I explained as I took a seat next to him. I made sure to sit close enough for my comfort but far enough away so that he doesn't feel crowded. I was thinking that it was time to approach the subject of maybe having him see a psychiatrist, but the idea of finding someone here in Riyadh who will understand the delicate nature of what happened to Jameel as well as helping him to understand his homosexuality was almost impossible.

Culture and Religion ran deep in the Kingdom. Both topics are extremely taboo and a medical professional in this country, I feared would be greatly influenced by those two factors and they will try to break Jameel from the path of what they considered sin. They will make him feel like he is an abomination and I refuse to let that happen. He was traumatized at the hand of my grandfather for years. Jameel was repeatedly told that he cause of behind what the old pervert did to him, using his cruelty against the young man that he could hide his shame about what he thought was unnatural desires and use Jameel to slake those urges at the same time. As long as I still have breath in my body, no one is going to hurt this beautiful man ever again. Not if I can help it.

Jameel cleared his throat and peeked up at me before lowering his gaze again. "I...I want to be able to go shopping with the women, but I don't want to face the people and their judgements. I don't...." He started but then he stopped and hid his face by pulling up the material of his niqab over his head and hair. That was another thing that I felt caused him concern. His choice of clothing, my grandfather, may he burn in the eternal fires of hell, dressed him as a woman and Jameel found comfort in the yards of material. He used the to hide himself from the world.