Loyal Family Harem In comic version

The opulent palace of Maharana Pratap, a bastion of Mewar’s pride and valor, was a clandestine playground of carnality and treachery. Unbeknownst to the mighty warrior, his harem, a collection of the most exquisite beauties from the realms of Punwar, Jhati, Hada, Parmar, Rathore, and Chauhan, harbored a dark secret. Each night, as he lay dreaming of battles won and lost, the walls of his chamber whispered with the sultry sighs and illicit moans of his wives, Ajabde, Lakhabai, Champabai, Shahmatibai, Ratnawatibai, Solankhinipur Bai, Amarbai, Phool Bai, Alamdebai, Jasobai, and Khichar Ashabai, as they indulged in their illicit passions.

Suddenly, a shadowy figure emerged from the velvet curtains, his eyes gleaming with lustful intent. Hakim Khan Suri, Maharana’s trusted commander, had succumbed to the siren call of his own desires. His robust frame, honed from countless battles, was starkly contrasted by the soft, silken fabrics that clung to his body. His gaze fell upon the sumptuous form of Rani Ajabde, her alabaster skin glowing in the dim candlelight, her raven hair cascading over her voluptuous breasts. She lay there, a picture of innocence, yet the scent of her arousal filled the air.

With a wicked smile, Hakim approached the bed, his hand reaching out to caress the smoothness of her thigh. Ajabde’s eyes fluttered open, revealing a hunger that matched his own. Her pupils dilated, and she beckoned him closer, her breath hitching as he traced the outline of her pouting lips with his thumb. The tension between them was palpable, a dance of power and desire that had been building for weeks.

“You know what you want,” he murmured, his voice a seductive purr that sent shivers down her spine.

Ajabde nodded, her voice a soft, needy whimper. “I want you to take me, Hakim.”

Their eyes locked in a silent understanding, a silent agreement that transcended their duty to Maharana Pratap. They were creatures of passion, and the call of the flesh was too potent to ignore. Hakim climbed onto the bed, his muscular form pressing against her softness as he claimed her mouth in a ravenous kiss. His hand found her breast, teasing the nipple to a taut peak as Ajabde’s nails dug into his back, urging him onward.

Their bodies moved in a rhythm as ancient as war and love itself, their hips grinding together as they sought to become one. The fabric of their clothes seemed to melt away, revealing the tapestry of their desire. Ajabde’s legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, her wetness coating him as he slid his length inside her.

Their union was explosive, a fiery crescendo that echoed through the otherwise quiet chamber. The air was thick with the scent of their passion, their bodies moving in a symphony of wanton need. Hakim’s thrusts grew more urgent, his breaths coming in harsh pants as he claimed her again and again, each stroke deeper, each touch more exquisite than the last.

Their cries grew louder, a cacophony of pleasure that seemed to shake the very foundations of the palace. But this was only the beginning. For outside their chamber, the whispers grew stronger, the shadows more insistent. The other wives, Lakhabai, Champabai, Shahmatibai, Ratnawatibai, Solankhinipur Bai, Amarbai, Phool Bai, and Jasobai, were equally ensnared by the Pathan soldiers, their own desires laid bare as they surrendered to the foreign invaders.

Maharana Pratap, blinded by his own pride and valor, remained oblivious to the treachery unfolding within his own walls. Yet, the whispers grew louder, the shadows grew bolder, and the scent of betrayal began to seep into the very fabric of the palace. Each night, as he waged battles in his dreams, his wives were embroiled in battles of a different sort – battles of the flesh, fueled by a hunger that transcended their marital vows.

In the moonlit chambers of the palace, Rani Lakhabai found herself in the arms of a dashing Pathan soldier named Zalim. His eyes, dark as the night itself, held a promise of unbridled passion that she had never experienced before. His touch was like a flaming brand, searing away any semblance of propriety she had once clung to. She craved the roughness of his embrace, the way his calloused hands roamed her body with an urgency that left her trembling.

Rani Champabai, fiery and insatiable, had taken a liking to the stoic and powerful Pathan warrior, Ishak. His quiet demeanor belied a fiery spirit that matched her own. Together, they would push the boundaries of pleasure, their cries of ecstasy mingling with the distant sounds of the palace’s night watch.

Meanwhile, the shrewd Rani Shahmatibai had struck a deal with the charming and cunning Hakim Khan Suri. She would grant him access to her chamber, her body, in exchange for protection for her family. As they lay entwined, she whispered sweet nothings in his ear, all the while plotting her next move in the grand chessboard of power and lust.

Rani Ratnawatibai, the most gentle and compassionate of them all, had been swept off her feet by the poetic words and tender touches of the young soldier, Dilshad. He had a way of making her feel seen, making her feel as if she were the only woman in the world who could satisfy his desires.

The fiery Solankhinipur Bai, on the other hand, reveled in the dominance of the burly Pathan leader, Sikandar. His gruff commands and possessive nature brought out the submissive side of her that she had never allowed to surface.

Rani Amarbai Rathore, ever the strategist, had entered into a passionate affair with Hakim’s second-in-command, Jamal. The union of their minds was as exhilarating as the union of their bodies, their shared cunning leading them to revel in the thrill of their deceit.

The sensual Rani Phool Bai had been ensnared by the enigmatic charm of the dark-eyed pathan, Raheem. His gentle caresses and whispered promises of a life filled with love and excitement had her questioning her loyalty to Maharana Pratap.

The stoic Rani Alamdebai Chauhan found solace in the arms of the kind-hearted soldier, Zafar. Their love was a secret garden, a sanctuary of passion in the harsh desert of deceit that had become their lives.

And Rani Jasobai Chauhan, the youngest of the bunch, had been seduced by the charismatic and adventurous Pathan, Farid. His tales of distant lands and his skilled hands had her dreaming of a future filled with excitement and desire.

Each woman had her own reasons, her own desires that led her down the path of infidelity. Yet, amidst the whispers and the shadows, they remained united in their quest for something more than the lives they had been confined to.

Rani Ajabde’s affair with Hakim grew more intense with each passing night. Their clandestine meetings were a symphony of passion and power, each touch a silent declaration of their shared craving. The weight of their secret bore down on them, only serving to fuel their lust.

Art by @shilpa