Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • Bernard Foong (a.k.a. Young) is ranked International Best Selling Author.

    A Harem Boy's Saga - Book I I - Unbridled;

    A memoir by Young

    An Excerpt:

    "Passion makes the old medicine new: passion lops of the bough of weariness. Passion is the elixir that renews: how can there be weariness when passion is present? Oh, don't sigh heavily from fatigue: seek passion, seek passion, and seek passion!" Rumi

    Oscar's Arrival

    Oscar's arrival with Devaj to the Sekham wasn't without fanfare. That weekend was Jasim's 13th birthday celebration and the boy's father had organized a catered party for 150 guests at the Sekham. Thabit had invited relatives, friends, business acquaintances and elders from his religious institution to this special occasion.

    This elaborate Islamic coming-of-age celebration was like a Jewish Bar Mitzvah. I was quite sure the young initiate would soon be forwarded to Oscar, Vaj, Dominique and Anya for male and female sex education or be directed to Andy and me for male-on-male tutelage, as Riqz had been at the Kosk.

    About Srihan

    It was wonderful to see Oscar after a week's absence and we had news to catch up on. That afternoon after his arrival, Andy and I invited our lover and his new charge, Devaj for lunch at the Maktub. We were eager to find out what happened to Srihan and be acquainted with Vaj. During lunch, Andy said, "We are glad the both of you are here. We were beginning to wonder if you were going to appear.”

    "You know I'll arrive come rain or snow. Or rather, come wind or sand in this instance," our lover laughed.

    Eager to know what happened to Srihan I asked, "What happened to Srihan after we left? Pray tell."

    "He went to therapy with Professor Linberg for several days. Apparently, being the only child in his family, his parents showered full attention on him and gave him everything he wanted. This excessive spoiling made him crave for more attention and when he was ignored; he turned resentful and spited whomever he thought had not given him sufficient affection.

    "After much probing, Dr. Linberg discovered his parents had sent him to an English boarding school because they could no longer control his catatonic behavior. They hoped Daltonbury's Big Brothers would guide their son back to 'normal' behavior."

    Andy continued his enquires, "Didn’t the school know his problem before accepting him into E.R.O.S.?"

    "Apparently not. The parents did not disclose the matter to the school. They were afraid that Daltonbury would refuse their son's application, so they kept it a secret." Oscar replied.

    "Didn't his previous BB inform the school's authorities of the boy’s erratic behaviors?" My Valet asked curiously.

    "He didn't act up during observation because John (his BB) was giving him undivided attention, so he behaved excellently throughout the observation period. The authorities thought him a good E.R.O.S. candidate."

    I added, "What's going to happen to Srihan now?"

    "When I left the Bahriji with Devaj, he was on his way back to Daltonbury Hall. I guess he will be undergoing treatment at the ‘Rabbit Hole.’ I'm sure our headmaster will be talking with his parents regarding their son's behavior," Oscar explained.

    "I hope he'll recover soon. I hate to see him go through life with this condition. He won't have any friends if he behaves in this weird manner." I said.

    "Let's pray for his speedy recovery from this psychotic ailment. He is a nice person and I wish him well," my BB sighed.


    Over dinner we got to know Devaj. He was a direct descendant from the last Maharajah of Jammu and Kashmir. His family fled to England, enrolled Devaj into Daltonbury Hall, and he was selected into E.R.O.S. without his parents’ knowledge. I nicknamed the boy Vaj. He was a pleasant soupçon of coquetry at 15. This was his 3rd household service and he was having a ball. Oscar had been assigned to him 3 days before flying to the Sekham. My BB was also interested to learn more about his new charge.

    Andy was the first to enquire, "You seem like a ‘Fancy’ boy!" He was referring to the red flower Vaj had in his shirt pocket.

    Vaj laughed and replied, "Nothing ‘Fancy’ about me, but I like to look spiffy. The flower in my pocket is my signature style."

    "Well then what are your other signature styles?" continued my Valet.

    "Just because I wear a flower in my pocket, don’t take me as gay. I prefer females," Vaj affirmed steadfastly.

    "With a rose sticking out of your pocket I'm sure you are NOT GAY. Oh! I'm sorry I misjudge your sexual preference," teased a smiling Andy, "You could have fooled me."

    Before Vaj could reply, Oscar jokingly chimed in, "Yeah, yeah Devaj, we know you are as straight as an arrow. But arrows do fly opposite directions sometimes," he teased his charge.

    Vaj defended himself humorously, "I assure you this arrow only flies in one direction."

    "OK! We believe you, Vaj. Time will tell which direction you fly," I joined in the tease.

    "Time will indeed tell. You wait and see," our friend replied with firm conviction.

    "Indeed we will!" Andy chirped.

    During our 3 months at the Sekham, time indeed told us which directions Vaj flew. And fly he did, in all directions.

    The Celebration

    The birthday boy dressed in white descended the grand staircase with his proud father to the festive sounds of drums and gongs, followed by clapping friends and cheering relatives. The party had begun. The large dining table was laid with fabulous edible goodies, welcoming guests to dig in. Like most major Islamic celebrations, the presences of religious clerics were de-rigueur, especially in the initiation of a boy's coming-of-age, and Jasim was no exception to the rule. Unlike Riqz, who was circumcised at 13, Jasim had been through Khitan (Islamic circumcision) in his 7th month out of his mother's womb. This was a celebration to officially announce to the Islamic community that he was ripe for the picking. Jasim, the boy, was now Jasim, a man.

    A Secret Rendezvous

    Besides Jasim's Muslim classmates, his sisters’ friends were also invited to partake in this joyous occasion. As the celebration progressed into the evening, I had to excuse myself from Andy to use a rest facility. As I tried finding a vacant washroom (which seemed to be constantly occupied), I decided to return to the Maktub to use our private toilet facility. While passing the gravel car park jammed full of sports cars, I noticed a couple of shadows flitting into an empty courtyard between the quiet guest chambers in the Maktub outbuilding. I followed.

    In the cloud covered moonlight I trailed the mysterious shadows, which disappeared into an olive garden. Camouflaged behind an olive tree I spied on the couple. A man and a woman whispered softly in the darkness. I couldn’t make out who they were but when the crescent moon reappeared, Thabit's eldest daughter and a man whose back was turned my direction were in passionate embrace. Fascinated by this scenario, I watched unmoved, even though my bladder was dying for release. Before long her veiled head was bobbing back and forth in front of her lover’s crotch. I could no longer hold my urgency and urinated at my hiding place.

    If it was the sound of my urination that stirred the lovers to disentangle, I would never know. Before I could stuff my trickling penis back in my pants, the lovers were scampering in different directions. Under the silvery moon Sabiya ran, and so did my teacher. The sweet Arab girl of sixteen going on seventeen was caught tasting the forbidden fruit of a thirty-seven going on thirty-eight-year-old Italian man of distinction. Though shocked by what I had witnessed, I had no desire to jeopardize the passion between the lovers so I made up my mind to keep this a secret. I did not report to Andy or Oscar and certainly not to the Wazir of what transpired within the olive garden.

    A Harem Boy's Saga website:

    Contact the Author at:

Better browser, please.

To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.