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Summary
Jamil watched with a smirk how his previous ‘master’ was on his knees in front of him. The role of a sultan with baggy clothing didn’t quite fit Kalim. He would look much cuter in a whore’s costume. Poor little thing dressed like the absolute slut he was, red suited him perfectly. Silk adored his beautiful soft skin, with a big gold chain around his neck. He looked like a damn dog in heat. Just so desperate for someone to come and save him. Too bad.
What if they were never able to beat Jamil when he went Overblot? What if now Kalim became Jamil's Jasmine?