Message-ID: <17452eli$9811210436@qz.little-neck.ny.us> X-Archived-At: From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger) Subject: RP: The Sutlan's Heir 2 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: <3657204c.12453240@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 2: Back to the Womb Exhaustion dragged at Selim as he, once again, sat waiting in the dark room. At least this time only his hands were tied in front of him; he had not been bound to his chair. What sleep his captors had permitted him had been shattered time and again by terrible dreams. Nightmare screams of the tortured and spurting, pulsing fountains of red had brought awake, screaming, each time his fatigue weighted eyes had drifted shut. He'd been fed, although not nearly enough to keep the hunger pangs at bay. Water had been plentiful - for drinking, not bathing - so he had not dehydrated over the time in the small windowless cell. He did not even know how long he'd been in there after they had shut him in there after forcing him to watch as the last neutered boy had been buried in offal. The stench, he thought, that horrible stench. Those dreams and those memories made him even more fearful about what this day held. The Sultana was going to tell him his third option. By his hope of heaven, what could be so dreadful, so horrible a fate, that he needed to see those things with his own eyes to convince him to accept this unknown fate? The question remained unanswered as the curtain opened to admit the Chief Eunuch and the Sultana. She again sat down in the throne-like chair, while the Agha took his place between them. On seeing her enter, Selim sank down in a salaam, his face pressed to the floor. "Rise, Selim." was her gentle order. With great effort, the boy levered himself upright, but stayed on his knees, as much because he doubted his ability to stand as anything else. "Ali tells me you have seen two of your choices." Wearily, the boy nodded. "I will now explain part of what will be required of you if you accept the third option. I need a man to become a woman." Shock cut through the fugue of Selim's hungry fatigue. His eyes were huge in disbelief. Leisha hid a grin behind her hand. They would have much to teach this one about subtlety and subterfuge. "Yes, young Selim, son of Rascheed and Mirrim, I have a task that requires a man to look like a woman, behave like a woman, live like a woman, and yes, make love like a woman." She paused a moment to let that sink in and then she fixed his gaze with her own. "I told you that your life as you knew it had ended that day you violated the harem, young man. If you are to walk from this room today with any hope of life beyond the next few days, you will do so taking your first steps towards womanhood. Now, come, I am sure you have questions. Speak, boy." Still stunned, coherent speech was all but beyond Selim. Spasmodically, his bound hands slipped to his groin. "But, how, . . I mean, what about. . .?" Understanding his dilemma, Leisha decided to answer his questions. "How is something you will learn, probably painfully, over the coming weeks. As to your male endowments, for the time being, you will keep them. I need a male who looks like a female, young Selim, but who is still fully and entirely male. And besides, I already told you the likelihood of your surviving castration." "And if . . ." The boy faltered. "If I succeed at this mission?" "Then you live." was the cold answer. "As a woman for the remainder of your days. If not here, then elsewhere. Do well and your life will be one of comfort. Fail, or worse, accept the mission and fail to try and your life will become a hell on earth that only women can fully appreciate. There are places, young Selim, where a woman's body is her only asset and even that is not her own. Places where death is easy and life impossible. Now, you must choose. Pick your fate, young Selim." "Mistress. . . Lady. " Selim choked out the words, then pressed on. "My mother. She's alone. I am afraid for her." "She is blameless in my view, Selim. Even as we speak, she has been taken into my care. She has been told that you died trying to save a child and that I was touched by your bravery. Accept my mission, Young Selim. Learn what you must learn, and I promise you she will want for nothing." Leisha consciously gentled her voice as she made that pledge. "I have failed my mother once, Lady, I will not do so again. I will do as you ask." the boy's voice trembled with commitment and determination. "Are you sure? You may even be giving up your hope of Paradise by surrendering your manhood this way. Be very certain, young Selim, because if you choose this path and then fail to try, I will have Ali cut your tongue out and turn you over to the Sultan's Executioner. You won't even have the solace of screaming your pain." Nor would he be able to tell the Sultan's Chief Justice where he'd been or what he'd been doing in the cloister. "My mother's life and what is left of my father's honor are at stake, Lady. I promised him I would take care of her. You have given me one last chance to keep that vow. My hopes of Paradise would just as surely die if I did not do as you ask." Satisfied at last, Leisha relaxed. "Very well, young one. >From this moment on, you will be known as Shamarra. After we part today, Ali will take you to one of my harem guards who we have had trained as a physician. He will examine you and ensure you are as healthy as you appear. Then, you will meet with Reyna, our Teacher of the Womanly Arts. You will work with her daily so that you become a woman in all outward appearances and mannerisms. She will also instruct you in the arts of giving pleasure to a man. Only Ali, the physician, Lady Reyna or myself must ever know you are really a male. Do you understand that?" "Yes, Mistress." "What is your name?" He nearly answered 'Selim', but caught himself at the last instant. "I am called Shamarra, Mistress." He said trying to affect a feminine tone. Nodding at his catch, Leisha smiled sardonically. "You would do well, young Shamarra, to think of yourself in the feminine from now on. The sooner you think that way, the sooner it will be what you are, and that time, my young woman, must come as soon as possible." With that, she stood and floated out of the room. With surprising gentleness for so large and strong a man, Ali lifted the exhausted would-be girl to her feet. "Come along, Lady Shamarra. The Doctor awaits us. After that, Lady Reyna and after that, some food." If you are still awake to eat it, he mused. The "Doctor", was a younger, shorter version of Ali. "I am called Torack." he said by way of greeting. His voice was soft and very gentle. He had strong, handsome features and large, expressive brown eyes. Selim, or rather, Shamarra, was of a mind to trust this soft spoken man in the clean white robes. "Torack is my brother, Shamarra." Ali offered. "As a boon to me, the Sultana Valideh purchased him when he was captured and sold as a harem slave. He has studied with the finest physicians in the Empire." Strangely, that comforted the would-be woman, which was just as well. As gentle as his voice and demeanor were, the examination was not. Minute attention was paid to every part of his body, even his hair, or in the case of his pubic area, his lack of it. Torack pressed his ear to the hairless chest and listened to the beating of the heart and the rhythm of the lungs. A strong hand covered and sealed Shamarra's mouth, forcing her to breathe through her nose. Thick, cylindrical probes of steadily increasing girth were gently forced into mouth and throat until he started gagging. These were then slowly withdrawn to just the point where he regained control of his breathing, then were reinserted until the gagging started again. Thinner devices were carefully lubricated and inserted into his anus. Only Ali's incredible strength held the boy-girl in place during this painful and unexpected procedure. His penis and scrotum were manipulated and examined. A vivid flush stole over the nude boy's body as his small penis responded to the gentle fondling and erected. Through it all, Torack made many notes in a book on his table, and asked questions that were often as embarrassing to the adolescent as the intrusive procedures. "Have you ever lain with a woman?" "Have you ever fondled yourself as I have just done?" "How often?" "How did it feel?" "Does your penis get much longer or thicker than it just did?" "In the course of this activity, does any fluid spill forth from the slit?" Only the fate awaiting him if he failed in his tasking and the implications for his Mother gave Shamarra the courage to answer such humiliating questions. No, he had never lain with a woman. Yes, he did masturbate often, at least daily and usually more often because it felt so good. No, it had never gotten as long or as thick before and yes, a thick, white, viscous fluid always ejected from the slit. Quite copiously, in fact. Torack finished a few final notes in his book and then turned to Ali. "That is all for now, my brother. We are ready for the Lady Reyna. If you will call her, I will prepare Shamarra for the next phase." Ali nodded and strode from the room. Shamarra arose from the palette she had been lying upon and followed Torack to a small anteroom off the main clinic. Inside the small room, two fine chains hung from the ceiling, with soft leather straps dangling from them. Experienced with restraints after his time in the dungeons, Shamarra offered her hands to the young black. Torack saw the fear in the girl-boy's eyes and smiled gently. "You are not really going to be tortured, child, although it may seem that way initially. This is only to make what must be done easier for all of us, yourself included. It won't last a moment longer than necessary. Just relax until Ali returns with the Lady Reyna." That was easier said than done, but Shamarra tried. Still, he/she was in a muck-sweat by the time Ali reappeared with a handsome woman of middle years dressed in the silks of the harem. She was taller than Shamarra and nearly as tall as Torack. She wore her auburn hair long, shimmering down her back like a red waterfall against the shimmering greens of her clothing. Her face would likely be beautiful if not for the stern set of her mouth and the way her eyes had narrowed to look at the boy. She carried something gold and metallic in her hands which she handed to Ali before stepping up in front of Shamarra. "I am Lady Reyna," she said in a cold, flat voice. "but for all intents and purposes, I am your Mistress and you are my slave. It is my duty to teach you the things you need to know in order to survive. The sooner you learn, the sooner you will gain what passes for freedom in the harem. The better you learn, the better your chances are for a long life." She reached up to pinch Shamarra's cheeks between her thumb and forefinger, and forced him to look into her eyes. "The lessons will be hard, little one. They will be often humiliating, sometimes painful and always completely outside of your poor male experience. But they must be learned and learned quickly. It is my tasking to help you, but you must understand that my help may often appear to be cruelty. So be it, but understand this, little one - only one other person in this world wants you to succeed more than I want you to succeed." Reyna relaxed her grip and a touch of the mischievous nature that had gotten him into this mess resurfaced. "Besides me, Mistress Reyna?" A fleeting smile softened the older woman's features. "You really think you want what I am about to do to you, little one?" She asked with sweet venom dripping from her words. She watched with hidden pleasure as the child's spine stiffened at her challenge. "Yes, Lady, I do. My life, and more importantly, my Mother's life hang in the balance. What you teach, I will learn." "We shall see, little one, we shall see." She turned to Ali and gestured toward the mass of golden cloth and metal. Ali knelt and took each of Shamarra's feet in turn and put them into obvious leg holes in what now appeared to be some type of short pants. Once he had both feet into their respective leg, Ali banded her ankles with straps matching the ones on her wrists that were chained to eye-bolts seated in the floor. Rising, he stepped back to permit Torack and Reyna free rein. Reyna slipped the garment up Shamarra's legs. Whatever it was, there was a large hole in the back. The front of it was a metallic plate with small grating directly in the center of the plate. Reyna held the plate up near Shamarra's groin and Torack took hold of her genitals. A soft cylinder of satin was pulled over the trunk of her penis and laced tightly about the stem. A belt connected to the satin device pulled her manhood back and between her legs, where a metal tube, integral to the inside of the plate was fitted to the head. Reyna then pulled the device the rest of the way up, above Shamarra's hips. "Now, Ali." she ordered. Ali began turning a large wheel, and the chains holding Shamarra's wrists began to rise. It was all Shamarra could do not to scream as the tension in her arms and wrists increased. Reyna moved behind Shamarra and began to lace up the girdle that extended to just below her ribs. When she had them as tight as she could manage, heavy belts were pulled around Shamarra's shrunken waist and pulled even tighter. Reyna tightened the lacing again before proclaiming herself satisfied. The belts were removed and the tension released. Shamarra felt like she was cut in two. Breathing was nearly impossible - deep breaths certainly were. "Come with me, girl." Reyna ordered imperiously. She led the way back into the main clinic to a large mirrored wall. Shamarra looked at herself in disbelief. From the ribs down, she looked like a female. The girdle looked like a woman's chastity belt, covering the evidence of her masculinity with the grated metal plate, but leaving her bottom round and bare. The top of the garment had taken at least a hand-span off her waist and given her the illusion of womanly hips. An illusion that was assisted by the design of the girdle which padded her hips and made them even more rounded. A clicking sound behind her caught Shamarra's attention and had her spinning her back to the mirror. Reyna had affixed a small golden lock to the back of the belt where the waist belt and the belt between her legs met. "There are only two keys to that lock, little one. For now, I have one and the Sultana has the other. If I ever see you without that lock, I will take you immediately to the Sultana and you will die. Do you understand?" Swallowing hard, Shamarra nodded. "I understand, Mistress." Frowning momentarily, Reyna gave a curt nod. "A good first effort. We still need another hand-span off that waist of yours, but you have potential. Ali, take her to her quarters and have her fed. Tomorrow, we will start the lessons in earnest." With that, she spun on her slippered heel and left the room, a thoroughly befuddled Shamarra gaping after her. The Sultana's Apartment. The four conspirators sat in the Sultana's private apartment. "The boy is asleep?" Leisha asked. "_She_" Reyna answered with emphasis, "is exhausted from her experiences in the dungeon and in Tormack's office. She fell asleep almost instantly - even in that tortuous belt you had built." A devilish grin lit her face. "It certainly cut down on her appetite." Leisha turned her eyes to the physician. "And his health. . . as well as other factors?" Torack opened his notes. "He is a healthy, if underdeveloped boy. If I did not know he was sixteen, I would have put his age closer to ten or eleven because of his slight frame and lack of body hair. He is, however, sexually maturing. He erects, although his equipment is on the small side, and he does manualize himself regularly to ejaculation." A sly grin lit the Sultana's face. "Then our appliance will cause him some . . . discomfort?" "Yes." the young physician replied. "I think the Lady Reyna can count upon sexual tension assisting her in some of the more feminine training you have planned. You will have to go slowly when you initially begin putting him . ." Lady Reyna interrupted. "Her. We too must think of the child as female. We are all at risk in this conspiracy. Shamarra is not the only one who faces the Imperial Executioner if word of this gets into the wrong ears." The Sultana nodded and gestured for Torack to continue. "When you begin putting *her* to cock training of any type. Her bottom is very tight, but quite elastic and her gag reflex does appear trainable." "And Shamarra's appearance?" The Sultana asked. "The girdle does its work well, Lady." answered Reyna. "It smooths her front, rounds her hips, shrinks her waist and presents her bottom most prettily. Her skin, face and hair need much effort, but she should be lovely. My one concern is her lack of a bosom." She turned her head to Torack. "I have found nothing that really does grow breasts, Lady. Every magician and charlatan healer has something guaranteed to round out a woman's figure, but none of those really work and most of them are all but deadly. Outside of massage techniques to attempt to redistribute what fat the child has into her chest, there is nothing I can recommend." "Ali, you are an excellent masseur. Do what you can with the girl. Be as severe as you can be without permanently hurting her, but see if you cannot give her at least a temporary shape. It would also be useful to know how long the shape will last." Her longtime friend and protector nodded solemnly. That solved, She turned back to Torack. "And the other tool we will need?" "Almost complete, Lady. We are testing it with thick syrups now. I think we can guarantee the sowing part will work. Whether the sown seeds will germinate and grow, I cannot say unless we test it." That statement shocked everyone. Finally, the Sultana Valideh regained partial control of her voice and whispered. "Test it? As in, to see if we can actually cause a . . . a. ." her voice failed her again. Torack nodded, understanding what she could not say. "Yes, tested fully. Unless we completely test every aspect of our plan to the fullest extent, we are taking great risks for no certain gain." "But that would mean that we would need. . ." she struggled for the words. "Seed" the word came out in an explosion of sound. "And. . . a safe place to sow it." "Just so, my Lady." The audacity of the young eunuch appalled and fascinated Leisha. Still, she mused, he had the right of it. "I will give it due consideration. Allah knows we have no shortage of fertile furrows for our purpose, although finding a *safe* one poses some difficulties. The real problem is obtaining the seed without anyone knowing we have done it." She frowned. "Well, nothing to be done until Torack finishes his testing. Reyna will have a long day ahead of her. I suggest we call it a night." End Part 2 -- +----------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `--------------+ | | | | Archive site +----------------------+--------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ | ----