In the Palace of Lazar (Harem Book 1) Read online

  In the Palace of Lazar

  Harem Book One

  By

  Alta Hensley

  ©2014 by Blushing Books® and Alta Hensley

  All rights reserved.

  No part of the book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.

  Published by Blushing Books®,

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  Hensley, Alta

  In the Palace of Lazar

  eBook ISBN: 978-1-62750-5147

  Cover Design by ABCD Graphics & Design

  This book is intended for adults only. Spanking and other sexual activities represented in this book are fantasies only, intended for adults. Nothing in this book should be interpreted as Blushing Books' or the author's advocating any non-consensual spanking activity or the spanking of minors.

  ~Dedication~

  To my daughters.

  You are responsible for making your own dreams happen.

  Always be a fighter.

  And to Maren, for taking the time.

  Table of contents:

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  About The Author

  Ebook Offer

  Blushing Books Newsletter

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  Sneak Peek - Conquering Lazar: Harem, Book Two

  Chapter One

  The world dried up leaving nothing but barren, infinite, monotonous desert. Desolate land with little vegetation except the endless sagebrush and greasewood that spattered the horizon. No shade, nothing to offer refuge from the burning rays of the sun. Briar Hope stopped to listen to the deep, dead stillness of the sandy hills and valleys. No running water, no chirping of birds, no buzzing hum of life—not a single sound but her own ragged breathing. The desert had engulfed the globe.

  The limitless sand ahead of her seemed to stretch to infinity. The enormity of her journey became more and more obvious with every step she took. As Briar plodded westward, doubt of survival congested her mind. Would she die before she reached her destination? Would the vast desert be her lonely grave?

  She began the journey with as many provisions as she could carry, but she had no way of knowing if they would last. Collecting enough supplies in a commune, with very little to begin with, proved almost as difficult as trekking across the cruel wilderness to her destination. She was full of strength and fortitude, but was that enough to battle the ruthless land?

  Nothing stood before her but the wasteland of the burning sands. She traveled days, weeks, she really wasn't sure anymore. Endless steps, agonizing climbs of ridged dunes that tormented every muscle in her body. 'One step… two,' was her mantra. Briar's core melted into the ground with every step. With her brown hair and sun-baked skin, she blended with the earth. Brown, brown, brown—everywhere she looked—brown.

  She marched forward hoping that any minute she would reach the Palace of Lazar. She'd soon see shimmering blue water, swaying palm trees in a delightful wafting breeze—the commune of dreams, and her ultimate destination.

  The desert was made up of small communes scattered throughout the world. Pods of civilization on small acres of precious, fertile land. Massive lakes depleted to ponds, or raging rivers now turned to a creek, were the water sources the world survived on. Desert inhabitants lived in these communes, surviving off whatever resources the small community possessed—each commune being a tiny oasis overcrowded with people.

  But no commune could measure to the Palace of Lazar. Some believed the palace was no more than a figment of the imagination. Nothing more than a fairytale told to children. But Briar believed that this palace would soon be her home. This part of the desert was uncharted. All the explorers who had embarked this way before, none had ever returned to tell the tale of such a place. But Briar continued on. She would make it, or die amongst the ones who tried.

  By the time the sun plunged toward the horizon, her shadow became the only sign of life. It was a strange and unnerving feeling being so alone. Surviving in communes meant overcrowding. Everywhere she turned, someone would be there to meet her gaze. Shoulder to shoulder with strangers. The suffocating population of the communes caused many to flee in search of a better one. The desert nomads wandered the dried terrain in search of fertile land yet untouched by man. Briar was now among them—a lonely drifter with no home.

  Walking alone in the endless, arid land, she watched the fading colors of the sun streak the sky with the palest gold to the richest reds. Magnificent hues reminded Briar of the breathtaking space around her. A desert so deadly, but at times so awe-inspiring.

  The burning heat of the day dissipated a little, which allowed Briar to pick up her pace. For days she camped at dusk, ate a meager meal, and sipped at her treasured water supply before trying to sleep on her worn blanket. Now she had to change her routine. Briar had used the last of her matches for fire lighting the night before, so stopping to make camp seemed pointless. When her hunger pains became unbearable, she ate what was left of her dried meat as she hiked forward. Time was running out.

  Stumbling over her own feet, Briar had no choice but to stop for a quick rest. Exhaustion had won this battle. She was glad to spread her blanket down for a couple of hours' sleep.

  The next few hours passed all too quickly. The morning heat grew unbearable, burning through the blanket and making sleep impossible. Her lips were cracked and dry, her skin burned, and her eyes were gritty with sand. Struggling to lift her head, Briar couldn't help but wonder if today would be the day she died. With her food now gone and only enough water to last the day, Briar struggled to her feet to continue on. She would die fighting.

  She concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, one step at a time as she focused on breathing in and out in a soothing pattern. The need for water overwhelmed her until she had no choice but to take the last gulp she'd greedily been saving. As she took the final sip, she closed her eyes and tried to relish in the pleasure of having something so cool against her tongue. If she were going to die, she wanted to remember the joy of something as simple as taking a drink.

  She didn't want to die, but accepted that the outcome pointed in that direction. People had called her a fool for believing she could make this journey. Others questioned why she wanted to reach the palace to begin with. Stories of sex, lust, forbidden acts, and a society wrapped around taboo steered many away. The four brothers that ruled the commune were known for their insatiable tastes and their women that catered to it all. The Palace of Lazar was not just a commune. It was a harem. Unlike most communes, women were welcomed. Tales of jewels, satin, silk, and plentiful food drew the adventurous soul. But for Briar, the palace offered more. The curiosity of what went on behind those walls pushed her through the desert day after day, night after night. The wonder of the ha
rem and the four brothers haunted her dreams. Briar wanted to see it, live it, and feel it. It was worth risking her life and succumbing to the desert.

  The sand in front of her began to fade in and out. The ringing in her ears only intensified as her vision dimmed. She couldn't decide if she was going to faint or vomit, now convinced that her last moments were near. Everything started to fade away from her as the darkness deepened until there was nothing but a hot, thick, encompassing, blackness.

  Chapter Two

  She coughed frenziedly, gasping for air. The surprising coldness of something pushed hard against her lips, the action made her chapped skin crack even more in the corners of her mouth. She was vaguely aware that someone, or something, was trying to push liquid down her throat. As much as she wanted the cool fluid, her mouth and throat seemed to close shut. She realized that someone's finger pried her lips open. She tried to open her eyes, but the weight of near death kept them shut. The trickling water down her throat seemed unreal. Water. She finally had water. Someone was trying to make her drink water. She wasn't dead. She was indoors… somewhere.

  Strident footsteps entered the room, stopping near her head. Briar managed to slowly open her eyes and attempted to lift her body to a sitting position, failing miserably. Her blurred vision made it almost impossible to take in her surroundings. Colors—all she could see were an array of colors. She wiped at her eyes, trying to clear the sand as she tried to sit up again. A firm grasp on her shoulder pushed her back down.

  There stood a man with eyes the color of the sea. Taller than most, dressed in all black, he exuded power. His shoulder-length, ebony hair merged with his collar. His superior appearance was flawless all the way to his meticulous groomed facial hair over his enticing mouth. His skin was so much darker than her own. Mysterious, exotic, even frightening.

  A deep, soothing voice boomed over her. "What is your name, girl?" His voice oozed with an intoxicating accent she hadn't heard before.

  "Briar." Her voice cracked from her dry throat. She didn't recognize her raspy words.

  "Briar what? What is your last name?"

  Briar hated declaring her last name. It reminded her of her past. A past she tried so desperately to forget. "Hope. My name is Briar Hope."

  One of his eyebrows rose. "From the Hope commune?"

  "Yes, sir." Everyone's last name was the name of the commune in which they originated. It was a way to distinguish one's heritage. In Briar's case, a heritage she wanted to forget.

  "Hope Lake is a far journey. How did you get here?"

  "I've lived in several communes since there. I haven't inhabited Hope for over ten years."

  "Do you know where you are now?" he asked, taking a few steps so he stood directly in front of her.

  "No, sir."

  "You are inside the Palace of Lazar."

  Briar closed her eyes briefly. The overwhelming need to cry almost suffocated her. She had finally reached her destination. The desert wouldn't be her grave after all.

  "Do you know what that is?"

  "Yes, sir. I've been traveling for what feels like a lifetime to get here."

  "For what reason?" His question was direct and sharp in tone.

  "To be part of the harem." Saying the words out load sent a quiver through her body.

  The corner of his mouth lifted into a small smile, but disappeared as quickly as it came. He took a few steps closer to her. "You need to get some rest." His dark brow rose as his eyes narrowed to examine her tattered, dehydrated body. "It took a lot of bravery to make the crossing here by yourself." He turned to leave the room.

  "I didn't catch your name, sir?"

  He glanced over his shoulder. "Donte. I am the person in charge of this harem. We will discuss this further in the morning. Rest now." He paused to speak to a woman standing in the corner with the glass of water in hand. "Clean her up, get her fresh clothing, and feed her some light broth. Her stomach won't accept food easily."

  Even if Briar had the strength to do so, she wouldn't dare argue with the man. His orders were clearly followed without question.

  The sound of boots pounding against the marble slab of the room awoke Briar from her sleep. She wasn't sure if she had dreamt it, or if she truly was inside the Palace of Lazar. A quick glance around proved her dream a reality.

  Briar watched Donte walk over to a round table with two chairs in the corner. He sat down without saying a word. The same young girl that had cleaned and cared for Briar the night before followed with a tray of tea and biscuits. She quickly left as soon as she placed the tray on the table.

  "Good morning. I hope you slept well. Please come and join me." He motioned at the seat across from him.

  Briar stood up, slightly self conscious of her appearance. She wore a white silk nightgown that covered the majority of her body. She had no doubt her hair was a mess, but there was nothing she could do about it at this point. She pulled the blankets back and padded her bare feet across the floor to do as he asked. As she approached the chair, he stood and pulled it out for her. No one had ever done such a thing before.

  Briar stared at the austere man, intrigued. "Thank you."

  He placed a biscuit on a plate, poured some tea into a delicate cup, and sat it in front of her. "Please, help yourself to the butter and jelly. There is sugar for the tea, if you like."

  She gratefully accepted as her mouth watered. The spread before her was unlike anything she ever experienced. She felt like a princess grabbing the sugar. She did the best she could to control herself as she reveled in the exquisite taste of the first real food she'd eaten in days. Her hand shook as she brought the fine china cup to her lips. Although attempting to be graceful, Briar knew she looked out of her element.

  "If you want to be part of the harem, there are expectations," Donte stated in a business-like tone. "You will have to pass an inspection, since we only accept virgins. After that, you will have to go through extensive training. The brothers each have desires that we assure the harem can meet." He leaned back in his lavishly carved chair. The dark wood table and chairs had men and women in sexual positions carved into the arms and legs. She couldn't keep her eyes from the delicate design. He noted her fascination.

  "The wood was imported from a commune that harvests trees of all kinds. It is very rare, but endures well, and the artisan who created the furniture did an exquisite job, do you not agree?" He smoothed his palm over the armrest with a look of admiration and pride etched on his face. "I love when time is taken to make something perfect. Mediocrity should never be accepted." His stormy blue eyes met Briar's. "My expectations are high. In all regards."

  She swallowed a bite of biscuit before speaking. "Yes, sir. I understand." Even though she said the words, she wasn't really sure she did. "I want to assure you that I am a virgin and I'd be willing to go through whatever training you have in mind. I'm aware of what's expected."

  His brow rose with interest. "You are?"

  "I believe so. If I were part of the harem, my duties would be pleasuring the brothers in any way they wish. Though I have no experience, I'm willing to learn."

  He smiled, continuing to rub his palm over the wood. Briar noted his hands—big, capable, firm. Briar needed to sip her tea to calm her growing nerves.

  "We have strict rules," he added, with a slight lift to his mouth. "You will be expected to do as you are asked. In return, you will be treated like royalty. If you disobey or act out, you will be punished accordingly."

  Briar's heart skipped. "Punished? Like prison?"

  Donte gave a slight smile. "No, not prison. The girls of the harem are no strangers to an over the knee spanking when deserved." He paused, examining Briar's face. She did everything she could to not appear shocked by his statement. She wanted to appear sexually sophisticated, even though she had no idea how to achieve it.

  Donte continued on. "There are other versions of punishments, but all with the purpose to keep the harem submissive. Each brother has different desires. Different
cravings. But each one demands submission."

  "Submission?" The image of being disciplined by Donte sent a shiver down her spine. Was it the idea of the punishment?

  "Yes. This will be part of the training. I have no doubt you will truly understand the meaning soon enough."

  "I see." She took another bite of the bread and swallowed. Donte's eyes watched intently as she chewed. "I'm a quick learner, and I promise you I won't let you down."

  Donte crossed his arms against his broad chest. "What other communes have you lived in besides Hope?" His gray–blue eyes glinted with interest.

  "I've been in many. Some I left by choice, and others by force." Briar glanced at her armrest at a carved couple engaged in a contorted sexual act. She couldn't help but wonder if she would someday partake in the same exact act. Her gaze snapped back to Donte. "The last commune was called Jaden. They were only interested in people who'd either be a warrior, or a bride to a warrior. I wasn't interested in either. The one before that only accepted potato pickers. The life seemed dreary and bleak. Communes are filling up, so the options are few."

  "Warriors you say. Why do you think the commune Jaden wanted warriors? What is your take on that?"

  Briar stared at him, unable to speak at first. She'd never been asked her opinion on anything. "Fertile land is precious and extremely valuable. I think it's only human nature to want to have that land. Unfortunately, it's also human nature to fight for what you want. I think Jaden is planning on going to war with nearby communes. It's scary, really."

  Donte nodded. "Do you have no family?" His ability to jump from one topic to the next overwhelmed her. It was hard to keep her composure. Maybe that was his intent.

  "No, sir." She looked down at the ground, praying he wouldn't press any further, or want more of an answer.

  "It has been awhile since I have been beyond the palace walls. Is the land as parched as before?"