Russell Crowe

((Yup. I wrote an excerpt. Copious amounts of Ham and Cheese ahead. Tarvan version of the Seraglio of the Iron Sheik… an Excerpt. Purple prose ahead, not as ridiculous as it’s going to get. More to come.))

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The Iron Sheik, sweeping a lock of his burgundy hair out of his face, sauntered up to where his mechanical Eunuchs held the handsome sidekick captive.

“So,” whispered the Sheik, leaning in close. “You break into my laboratories and wreck several of my machines, some of which have taken months to build.” Puffs of breath ruffled the captive’s hair. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

The Seneschal swallowed, the sound seeming much louder in the quiet room, before replying, “I did my duty for my Mistress.” He could not raise his head to look the mad spark in the eyes. He had failed his mistress. He was a dead man.

A soft, yet powerful hand gripped the minion’s face, forcing him to look into the steely eyes of his captor.

After a long, tense pause, the Sheik smirked and let him go.

“I don’t think I will kill you,” said the Sheik with a flourish. The sidekick began to brace himself for whatever sort of torture might come next. Sparks were always devising new and interesting ways to inflict pain or turn people into fish.

Then Senchal flinched at the unexpected feeling of a hand running through his hair. Not yanking or pulling… but stroking. Caressing.

“You have quite exotic hair, you know, and to say your looks are appealing would be an understatement, purred the spark. “I think I’ll keep you for my harem.”

Vanamonde flinched as if struck. Harem? Harem?

He… supposed that that would be better than dying painfully, and it would give his Mistress a chance to rescue him, if she chose to do so, and his captor didn’t use any sort of mind-control…

The minion kept his mouth shut and his head down.

“No defiance?” the Sheik raised an immaculately-groomed eyebrow.

“I don’t see how it would help my position, in this case…” The blond-and-black haired man did the best he could to shrug while being held up by the two burly mechanical Eunuchs.

“Well, I can think of several positions for you…” the Sheik leered from behind his piece nez, his hand wandering down to his captive’s well-defined chest.

“Keep your hands off me!” The protest came out much squeakier than intended, heat rushing to the Senchal’s cheeks.

To his surprise, the Sheik indeed drew away.

“Take him to the Harem,” He ordered quietly. “And give him a bath.”

The silver clanks perked up at these instructions and dragged the limp Seneschal away.

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((Up next: bath scene with rose petals, harem gear, and possibly fruit. Also, go into more detail about the scene.))

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