Message-ID: <17451eli$9811210436@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: RP: The Sultan's Heir 1 of 6 (TG, Femdom, Historical) Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d Reply-To: tigger@alices.com Mime-Version: 1.0 Content-Transfer-Encoding: 7bit Content-Type: text/plain; charset=us-ascii Path: qz!not-for-mail Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam Approved: X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded X-Story-Submission: X-Original-Message-ID: <36561fe3.12348386@news.erols.com> The Sultan's Heir by Tigger copyright 1997 All Rights reserved Archiving/reposting permitted provided that: This attribution to me as author, and this disclaimer remains intact; *NO* fee of any type is charged for access to *any* part of the archiving site. Use of this story for financial gain, such as using it in a published anthology or selling it is prohibited by my copyright. Part 1: Last Dawn; First Morning Dawn was breaking over the River Bosporus as the small figure crept through the shadows to the vine covered wall. A quick check of his surroundings satisfied him that he was alone and undetected. With agility and grace, he scaled the wall and then moved quickly into the limbs of the large tree that should have been pruned away from this wall. He had dressed carefully for this day's activities, dispensing with the white robes in favor of darker greens and browns that would make him all but invisible as he huddled in his special hiding place, surrounded by the thick, leafy foliage of the tree. Another scan of the grounds revealed no one who could have seen him. Pleased with himself, he settled to wait for the women to come out and play. Surely, this proved his courage, his manhood. It was too bad he did not dare brag about his adventures to the other boys, but that would be stupid, and fatal. As brave as he was, he did not wish to die. Still, the secret knowledge of his courage would make it easier when the other boys started to harass him again. The sun had been up only a little while and already, Leisha was hard at work in her private chamber. In fact, her name was much more important and impressive than "Leisha", but that was the name her husband called her by, and therefore, how she called herself in her mind. A scratching at the entrance drew her attention. "Come." she ordered with quiet authority. A younger woman, dressed in silks and adorned with jewelry entered the room. "Lady, the lookouts say that he has returned." She said quietly, her eyes respectfully averted. Leisha had been both expecting and hoping for this. In all likelihood, it would be her last hope. "Is he using the same hiding place, Senna?" She asked gently. The girl was still awed by her elevation to her current position of hand maiden and informal aide de camp. Hopefully, she would soon outgrow that timidity. The girl had intelligence, but her attitude was severely limiting her usefulness. Perhaps, it would be kinder to marry her off to some wealthy merchant or honored general. It might also be safer. . . . . for Leisha and her plans. "Yes, Lady. Right in the large tree over the gardens." "All right. Alert the Keisler Agha. Have him report to me once everything is in readiness. Then, we will send the girls out for their morning play." The girl salaamed and backed her way out of the room Restless and anxious, Leisha stood and went to stand by the window overlooking those gardens. Nothing about the tree revealed the presence of the spying male. She briefly wished that her Mother-in-Law was still alive, that the old woman's wise council was still available to her. What she wished was that someone else would have to give these orders. No, the responsibility was hers, now. And just as well, for it was her son's birthright she was fighting for. Spinning from the window, she called for her serving maids, renewed determination ringing in her voice. She must dress properly for this occasion. The Sultana Valideh, mother of the heir to the throne of Suleiman the Magnificent, had to terrify this young man, this boy, if her plan was to bear fruit. The women were beautiful in their bright silks and satins. Completely uninhibited behind the supposedly impenetrable wall, they cavorted like children, laughing and yelling as they played with a ball, or splashed in the pool. He liked them best in the pool, for they always undressed and unveiled to swim. Idly, he wondered if any of them were wives to the Sultan? They seemed very young for that honor. More likely, they were concubines or perhaps the wives of the Sultan's sons. A rustle behind him broke his revery and hand him spinning around, but it was too late. Something sharp nicked at his arm and then, the world went black. Slowly, consciousness crept back into the boy's mind. Two things registered simultaneously on his still-fogged brain. He could not move a muscle and he was stark naked. Shaking his head to clear it, he found that he was bound hand and foot to a very heavy chair. A large wad of something had been forced into his mouth and tied there, effectively muting him. The room was dark and stuffy, with only a little light leaking in through a heavily curtained doorway that was off to one side of the room. Immediately in front of where he sat bound was a magnificent, gold-gilt chair with plush, velvet cushions and backrest. A momentary flash of light from the door caught his attention, but the cause was already gone before he could turn and focus on it. Fear coiled in his guts. There was no doubt that he was going to die. Men who defiled the harem of the Sultan died long, slow horrible deaths. Who would take care of his Mother, he thought bleakly. Should have thought of that before trying to prove how brave he was, his conscience chided. Now, it was too late. The curtain unfurled and two shadowed figures loomed in the suddenly bright entryway. A woman dressed in magnificent court robes entered first, followed by a tall, muscular, bare chested black man who carried a vicious looking scimitar. She gracefully settled into the magnificent chair while the man took up a position to one side of the Lady, and between her and the boy. The boy realized that the man could cut him in half with that blade and not move a step from where he'd positioned himself. "I am the Sultana Valideh, boy, and you have committed a heinous crime against my husband, the Sultan. We must decide what we are going to do about you." It was only then, that the boy realized that she was unveiled. He had been so stunned by her pronouncement, that he had stared at her. His incredulity had made her smile, sardonically. She was a handsome woman, older than his mother, but still slender and vigorous. Her ebony hair was shot with tendrils of silver that flashed in the uncertain light of the room. A large ruby glittered in her hairpiece and was matched by other stones dangling from her ears and about her neck and arms. "We must talk, young man." she said grimly. She turned her eyes to the guard. "Ali, ungag him." Slowly, without moving from his position, the powerfully built black man lifted the scimitar to the boy. Only the binding holding him rigidly to the chair kept him from skittering away. With infinite control and delicacy, the edge of the blade sliced the strap holding the gag without cutting the boy. He could only stare as the straps fell into his lap, his eyes round and frightened. A soft chuckle from the woman brought him back. "Unless you want Ali to remove the remainder of the gag in the same manner, I suggest you spit out the wadding in your mouth." He'd have swallowed if he'd had any spit to do it with. The wad was large and his mouth was very dry because of it, so it took several tries, but it finally joined the strap in his bared lap. "What is your name, boy, and how old are you?" Leisha snapped out at him. Fear prompted his answer. "Selim, Lady, son of Rascheed, former Captain in the Sultan's Army. And I am nearly sixteen years old." The Sultana's eyes became narrow as she scanned the boy's body. Nodding to herself, she continued. "Well, Selim, you should die painfully for your foolishness, but I am a merciful woman. Whatever your fate, life as you have known it ends today. You have entered a place that no man other than the Sultan may enter and live. Selim, son of Rascheed, must therefore die." Selim's heart dropped to his guts and he fought to keep back the tears. Whatever came, he had to remain worthy of his father. Leisha watched the boy swallow convulsively and privately admired his fortitude. He expected to die, and yet, he was fighting not to give in to his terror. He might do, she thought, he just might do. "As I said, Selim, I am a merciful woman. I will give you a choice. You can choose the death your crime warrants. I can have Ali, the Chief Eunuch of the Sultan's Harem, turn you over to my Lord's executioners and you will die sometime next month. Although, " she added contemplatively, "You will likely have gone mad from the pain far sooner than that." She paused again, letting that thought take root and grow. "Or, we can eliminate the crime altogether by having you emasculated. As a eunuch," a dark grin lit her face, "You would no longer count as a man. Unfortunately, your age is against you. Most boys called to that service are neutered before they reach puberty because they usually bleed to death or die from infections if the operation is done after puberty." All color had drained from Selim's face and he was visibly shaking now. Good, she thought. Let the fear grow before she gave him his only other alternative. "Still, that is a far more pleasant death than what my husband would inflict upon you. There is a third possibility, as well, but I think we will discuss that later. Suffice it to say, that I have a task you might be able to perform for me. Should you succeed, you will live." She turned to the huge guard. "Ali? I think Selim might need help with his decisions. Please see that he observes an execution and a neutering. I want him to understand those alternatives very clearly before I give him his only other one." "As you command, Mistress." The tall black intoned as she stood to leave. He followed her out the door leaving a badly shaken boy fighting the urge to soil himself. A week later. Ali stood rigidly at attention in front of Liesha's desk. It amused her that he could not bring himself to relax in her presence, even when they were completely alone. Of all the personalities in the Harem, he was one of her few friends, and the only one she trusted absolutely. The myth that eunuchs were fat or stupid was just that, a myth. The magnificent body and mind of her friend was proof of that. Heavens, but it was a crime against women that this beautiful, gentle man could never join and make love with a woman. After 20 years together, she knew better than to offer him a seat, so she merely smiled her greeting to him. "It went well?" she asked. A look of pure satisfaction glittered in his eyes. "Indeed it did, Mistress. The Sultan's executioner exceeded even his reputation for sadism with the two thieves we watched dispatched. Also, it was not lost on the lad that they lasted far less time than the days and days you promised him. As for the emasculation, that too went very well for us. One of the boys spurted blood quite magnificently when cut. And the burying of the boys in the dung pile afterwards was also effective. It was quite . . . pungent that day from the heat." "The boy who bled. He will live?" Smiling at the concern in her voice, the Keislar Agha nodded. "He will be fine. The flow was staunched quickly and very little blood was actually lost." Relieved, Leisha pressed on. "So, what do you think?" The large man was silent for a moment as he considered. "He will go along with your plan, Mistress, no matter how repulsive he may find the duties." He paused again, reflectively. "There is something else I have learned that may even win his full complicity in this venture. Something that will motivate him far more than just the fear for his own life." The Sultana looked up at him expectantly. "His Mother, Lady, she is widowed and alone. He fears for her well being after he is gone. If you offered to see to her health and comfort in return for his taking his part in this. . ." he let his voice trail off. "He is that concerned for her?" Ali nodded. "Very well. I will use that, but only after he agrees on his own behalf. I will make the other an added inducement, a hedge against his good behavior." Both of them knew she would see to the Mother's protection in any case, but the boy would not have to know that. "When do you want the boy?" "Tomorrow is soon enough. Another day of fear and hunger will make him all the more malleable. He needed to lose a little weight, anyway." That reminded her of something else. "Has he been measured for the appliance?" "Yes, Mistress. I personally gave the sizes to your goldsmith yesterday, and the device is now complete and ready." "Do you think he can do what needs be done, Ali? So much is at stake, and we have so little time." "His general build is correct, and he is very slight for his age. My sources tell me that his father was not a large man and his mother is also slight of build. Besides, I have seen her and he seems to favor her. Everything will hinge on how well he learns and whether he can overcome his self image sufficiently to perform. Only Allah knows that with any certainty, Mistress, but I think he is a suitable candidate." Leisha took a few moments to consider the softly spoken words. So like Ali, she thought. Clear and concise. Optimism without overconfidence. And he was right. The boy had potential, and besides, she no longer had any choice. "Very well, Ali. Have the boy and the appliance here tomorrow after the midday meal. Order your physician and the Teacher of the Womanly Arts to attend me at the same time." So little time, she thought again as Ali glided away on his errands. So little time and so very much to lose. End part 1 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----