Bill aka Storyguy

The Sultan's Favorite Boy

Chapter 4

As the boys stood at the side of the deck, watching the activity, the two eunuchs who had brought them walked over to talk with two others who were similarly dressed in rich clothing. All four had bodies of the same soft plumpness, with bald heads and smooth round faces -- almost as if they were giant toddlers rather than men.

Finally having a chance to converse with the other boy, Salim whispered "Hey; do you speak Bosnian?"

"Of course I do!" said the lad, with a giggle (and without an accent). "The reason I look different from you and the others is that I am of the Romany people. Some call us Gypsies."

Then, as if he knew the next question that was on Salim's lips, the boy added "You and I were selected because we are the most beautiful and desirable of all the hundreds of boys on that ship."

Salim was doubly surprised. First in discovering that the exotic- looking boy was a Bosnian... second in his uncanny ability to read Salim's mind.

The gypsy boy spoke again: "You said back on the big ship that you are called Salim. That name means 'flawless', if I'm not mistaken... your commander named you well. I was Camlo before the naming ceremony, and now I am Kamal. It means 'perfect beauty'. Nice, eh?"

"Uh... yes!" said Salim after a few moments silence, as if awakening from a stupor. Salim had been staring into Kamal's face, utterly captivated by his full red lips, the heat of his smouldering dark eyes, the almost-feminine delicacy of his exquisite face. Yes; this boy too had been well-named. He was an inch taller than Salim; perhaps older, but maybe not. All Salim knew was that he was utterly smitten by everything about the gypsy-boy... even the small gold ring in his left ear.

"We will have fun together, the two of us," said Kamal with a sensuous and knowing smile.

"Boys! Come this way! Now!" shouted one of the eunuchs.

They climbed down a steep stairway at the vessel's stern to an open area below-decks, lit by oil lamps and richly furnished with carpets, low tables, and comfortable-looking divans. Kamal was led off through a door on one side of the ship; Salim to a cabin on the other side.

The Bosnian peasant boy had never seen such a luxurious room. There was a thick rug of ornate design beneath his feet; walls of dark wood and fine fabric, hung with colorful pictures of hunting scenes; two chairs of leather; a low bed with several soft cushions; and a tray containing fruits, cheeses, and skewers with bite-size pieces of grilled meat.

"This is your cabin for our voyage, Salim." The man spoke the Bosnian dialect fluently, but with the accent of one who was not born to the language. "My name is Abdul-Aziz. I will be your tutor, teaching you to speak the Turkish language and beginning your instruction in the ways of civilized Ottoman society. You will find me an agreeable person if I know that you are devoting your full attention to these studies. But it will be rather unpleasant if you do not take your learning seriously. Do you have any questions so far?"

"Please, sir," said Salim courteously; "will you also teach the other boy... Kamal?"

"He has his own tutor. He is further advanced in speaking the language and will be taught at his own pace. You may socialize with him at the end of each day's lessons, if you like."

"And sir, if I may ask... where are we going?"

"You will find out when we get there. Our voyage should be rather swift in this vessel. Not much more than a week if the weather stays fair and the winds are favorable. The food on this platter and that pitcher of beverage are your evening meal. When you pull this sash here..." the man gestured to a length of velvet material; "... a servant-boy will come to the cabin. Feel free to have him attend to you as you wish. He will fetch more food or drink, or empty the chamber pot if you have used it.... You DO understand the function of a chamber pot, don't you?"

The blank look on Salim's face reflected his humble upbringing in a one-room shack. Elimination of bodily waste was always done in the crude outhouse behind the dwelling or in the woods (though on the coldest days, Salim took no more than a single step outside the door if he only needed to pee). The eunuch sighed, and explained how civilized people tended to this process. Then he bade Salim a pleasant sleep, saying he would return in the morning to begin the schooling.

Alone at last, Salim explored the room, sitting in a chair, lying across the bed, running his hand over the rug, and opening the curtains at the large glass-pane window. It was only when standing at the window that he realized the ship was moving... the moon-lit Adriatic shoreline gliding slowly past. Looking down toward the water, he saw eight large oars dipping into the water in unison, pulling to propel the ship, then lifting up to repeat the process.

"This is magic!" said the boy out loud, as he stared in wonder at the never-ceasing rhythm of the oars.

He might have thought otherwise if he had seen what produced the ship's swift movement through the water -- 64 naked galley slaves laboring under the whips of cruel overseers... shackled by chains to their benches, four to each oar... while 64 more shackled men slept curled up at their feet, ready to take over rowing at the end of the 4-hour shift. These were prisoners of war, common criminals, or men who had in some way displeased the sultan or a high official of the Empire.

But Salim was blissfully unaware of this unpleasantness two decks below his ornate cabin. He ate greedily of the delicious food, and drank glass after glass of a wondrously sweet beverage, the likes of which he had never tasted. (It was the juice of squeezed oranges, a fruit unknown to the boy.) When at last he was sated, Salim felt the urge to pee. Standing above the crockery bowl that the man had called a chamber pot, he opened his pants and considered how best to accomplish the task without splashing on the red oriental rug. He ended up kneeling down close to the pot and directing the flow from his penis with utmost care. How much simpler it was to pee in the woods, he thought.

After fastening his pants, Salim looked over at the velvet sash, thought for a moment, and pulled it. There was no sound, but in a very short time there was a gentle knock on the door. Before Salim could go to open it, the knob turned and in slipped a boy of perhaps 10 years. He had the dark hair and features of a Turk, and his livery was of finer quality that the clothing of even the most prosperous resident of Salim's valley. Instead of pants, he was wearing skin-tight hose of finely woven white cotton. His loose shirt was of rich blue silk, belted at the waist, and barely covering his crotch.

"Yardimci olabilir miyim?" ["How can I serve you, young master?"] said the boy, as he looked at Salim with a hopeful twinkle in his eyes.

Salim was frustrated that he couldn't understand the words, but correctly guessed the meaning. He gestured with his head in the direction of the chamber pot. "Chanuk... kirli," ["bowl... dirty"] he said, searching the very limited supply of Turkish words he had learned during the previous days.

Now it was the boy's turn to look puzzled. Then he looked over at the chamber pot and nodded as he went to pick it up. He carried it to the door and set it down outside, but then came back inside the room and went about preparing the bed for sleeping. As he reached up to get a blanket from a high cabinet, the hem of his shirt lifted to reveal the outline of his boyish genitals, pressing against the crotch of his tights. Salim's eyes were drawn to the sight... and to the youngster's slender round buttocks, also pressing against the form-fitting thin material.

In a minute the servant-boy had finished making the bed, and he softly asked "Cinsel ilishki ister misiniz?" ["Does the young master care to use me for his pleasure tonight?"] Salim shook his head to indicate that he had no idea what the cute young boy was saying. The lad shrugged and departed, looking a bit disappointed.

Salim told himself that he must work diligently in learning this strange language. It was frustrating to not understand what was being said. Then he stripped off his clothing and slid naked between the soft cool cotton sheets on the bed. It was like lying on a cloud, he thought. He stretched out beneath the covers, arching his body like a cat. Salim's hands came to his chest, rubbing circles around the tiny hard nipples, then moved slowly down over his taut belly... over his soft dick and loose ball-sack... along his inner thighs. When his hands moved back up, his penis was well on the way to erection. He cradled his balls with one hand, and the fingers of his other hand began the wonderful ritual of manipulating his rigid sex-flesh.

The mental image that immediately lept forward to accompany his masturbatory fun was the gypsy-boy. Thoughts of kissing Kamal sent a shudder through Salim's body, and fantasies of lying together naked... body grinding against body... propelled the boy's urgent stroking. His fantasies switched briefly to his boyhood friend Havel and the erotic pleasures they had discovered together in recent months... but his thoughts kept returning to the dark-haired Kamal. In minutes, the glorious spasm of dry orgasm lifted Salim's body up... arching his back as his fingers extracted the last shudders of pleasure from his 4-inch cock. Drifting quickly into sleep, curled in a cozy ball, he felt surprisingly secure in this totally new environment. Safe and warm in this soft bed, and ready to face new adventures in the morning.

"Wake up, boy! It's past dawn already!" It was Abdul-Aziz, pulling aside the curtain to allow the rising sun to flow into the cabin. The eunuch then bit into a piece of fruit from the tray of food that had been replenished as the boy slept. As Salim got out of bed, the teacher gave only a brief glance to the morning erection that stood up from the boy's naked body. Abdul-Aziz appreciated the aesthetics of Salim's physical beauty, but he considered himself fortunate to be forever free of the gnawing sexual desires that so often got other men into trouble. Meanwhile, Salim belatedly covered his crotch with his hands.

Salim looked over at the chamber pot (which had been cleaned and replaced), then down to his rigid penis, and he knew that his morning urination would not be accomplished easily... or without embarrassment. The eunuch saw his dilemma and sighed, thinking to himself that there were distinct advantages to having a penis that never stiffened. "Go up on deck and do your business over the rail. But be quick about it.... And be sure to have the wind at your back.." As the boy was about to walk naked through the door with a hand in front of his crotch, Abdul-Aziz added "For goodness sake, boy... put on your undergarment. The sight of you in that state might drive the sailors insane with foolish carnal cravings."

The boy moved quickly through the cabin and up the steps, but he stopped in his tracks when he emerged from the hatch onto the deck. Everywhere he looked, the ship was surrounded by water. No land -- not even another boat -- was in sight. A large triangular sail caught the breeze and pushed the boat along at a fast clip, working in tandem with the constant motion of the oars. The weather felt comfortable for this late in the year, as Salim thought to himself that it might even have snowed already in his family's mountain valley. Standing on deck wearing just the short cotton undergarment, Salim noticed that the handful of sailors occasionally snuck glances at him, but then turned away when they saw that their attention had been noticed. None of them dared risk the anger of the sultan's powerful court eunuchs by staring lustfully at either of the beautiful boys who constituted the ship's only cargo.

Salim stood at the leeward rail and untied the strings at the waist of his undergarment, then breathed a sigh of relief as he held his penis between thumb and two fingers as his full bladder began to empty. The high arc of pee flowing from his erection broke into a thousand sparkling drops as it floated down toward the water, some sprinkling onto the oars that moved below him. Looking around to be sure nobody was watching, Salim gave his still-engorged cock some pleasuring strokes, not wishing to waste a good erection. Then he reluctantly fastened the ties of the undergarment and walked quickly back to his cabin, chilled by the morning air.

The day's lessons were mentally grueling but intellectually stimulating for the bright peasant boy. He absorbed new words and grammar rules almost as easily as did his teacher (who was a court translator and spoke 16 of the Empire's diverse languages). During breaks from language study, the eunuch taught him social graces... from the proper way to eat from the skewers of meat brought for their lunch to the different ways one should bow to aristocrats, depending on their rank. Through it all, the teacher was completely closed-mouth about where they were going, and for what purpose.

As the sky outside the cabin window turned orange with sunset, Abdul-Aziz concluded his tutoring.

"You have done well on your first day, boy. Give the same effort each day subsequent, and you will have an adequate means of communicating when this voyage ends."

Salim flopped down on the bed and relaxed for the first time. He contemplated stripping and getting under the covers, and probably would have immediately dropped off to sleep, but he was hungry. And then there was Kamal. Even while devoting all of his energy to the lessons that day, Salim's consciousness had been invaded by the dark-haired boy's image. He wondered if Kamal was finished his own studies... and whether he would like some company.

As Salim left his cabin, the first question was answered, but as to the second question.... Kamal was sitting back on one of the velvet-covered divans in the common area. Kneeling next to him was the Turkish boy-servant, his arms around Kamal's neck and lips pressing against the older boy's mouth. Kamal's left hand gently caressed the boy's buttocks while his right hand fondled the boy's small erection through the thin cotton tights.

Kamal noticed Salim immediately and spoke to the servant in Turkish: "Go now. We shall play again later." He kissed the boy again and sent him on his way with a playful swat on the bottom.

"Hussein is quite the little charmer, eh?" said Kamal with a grin as he patted the place beside him on the couch for Salim to sit.

"I suppose," replied Salim, in a tone that might easily be taken for jealousy.

"So, my friend," said Kamal, as Salim sat down beside him. "Did your teacher work you hard today? My fat old task-master certainly did!"

"It was not too bad," replied Salim. "I'd rather work with my mind than spend my day marching up mountain passes as we were doing before. My feet are still so sore! Did you have a difficult march to reach Dubrovnik, Kamal?"

"Oh, no! I spent the whole journey riding on the commander's horse... practically sitting on the man's lap! He agreed immediately when I suggested that I should ride with him." Kamal giggled and looked into Salim's eyes. "Boys like you and me can get our way with the right kind of men, eh?"

Salim wasn't totally sure he knew what the gypsy-boy was talking about, but he nodded his head.

"Tell me something, Salim. Do you enjoy it when they fuck you, or is it just something you put up with?"

Salim was taken aback by the blunt question. "I don't.... I mean... I've never been fucked before," said the blond lad, feeling almost apologetic for his innocence. "Perhaps when the right person comes along..." he added, echoing the words of advice from Commander Mustafa.

"A virgin? Really? I was sure that one so pretty as you.... Ah, but you're a country boy, I'll wager. From a farm or a tiny village?... Yes?... I thought so! You see, I've been horribly corrupted by the sinful ways of the big city," said Kamal with a smile and a tone of obvious sarcasm. "My family had been four years in the city of Mostar when the collectors of the sultan's boy-tax took me. Well, no matter...."

Then Kamal fixed Salim in the sensuous gaze of his dark eyes and boldly ran a hand along the boy's inner thigh. "Though you are a virgin, Salim, I'm guessing that you might know something of the wickedly fun pleasures that two boys may enjoy together." Kamal's hand drifted up close to Salim's crotch. "I've done nothing but think of you since I first saw your face. You were in my dreams last night, my friend," he said, in words that flowed like a languid curl of smoke from his full red lips.

Salim blushed a bit and looked away for a moment. Then he looked back into Kamal's eyes and smiled. "Yes... I do enjoy those things. And... well... I've had thoughts of you too, Kamal."

The boys were side-by-side on the soft couch, their bodies turned to face each other... their faces only a foot apart. Kamal's hand, which had rested on Salim's thigh, slid slowly across his crotch, up his chest, and came to rest on the boy's cheek. Without a spoken word, the boys' faces moved closer together, very slowly... as if time were almost standing still. Salim felt a hot rush of desire flow through his body as the tempo and intensity of his beating heart made it difficult to breath. Kamal's breath was warm against Salim's face.... 'My God,' thought Salim; 'he is so incredibly beautiful!'

Salim closed his eyes just as his mouth made contact with the Kamal's soft lips. Yes! This was what he had been fantasizing, and the reality far surpassed the imagining. Their arms wrapped around each other's bodies as their tongues glided together. Salim's entire being melted as they kissed... his awareness of time and place fading away as the whole of his consciousness focused on the sweet taste of Kamal's mouth, and he explored the texture of every little nub on the boy's tongue.

When their lips finally separated, Kamal whispered "Come, my beautiful friend. Let know each other more fully in the comfort of my bed."

Salim could only sigh "Yes..." as they stood up and walked hand- in-hand to Kamal's cabin. It was decorated differently from Salim's room, but equal in luxury. When the door was closed behind them, Kamal reached out to unbutton Salim's shirt. When the blond boy hurried to help, Kamal said "No; let me undress you... as you undress me."

Salim smiled, and his fingers went to the gypsy's shirt buttons. He willed his eager hands to slow down.... to undo Kamal's clothing in the same slow, sensuous way the dark-haired boy was undressing him. Nothing, however, could slow the heart-pounding in Salim's chest.

Pulling off each other's purple uniform shirts, each reached for the other's belt buckle simultaneously. Kamal moved quicker and pushed down Salim's loose uniform trousers, and his fingers nimbly untied the waist of the undergarment, then pulled down at the sides. Salim's penis was already hard as Kamal reached down to touch it, and the blood continued to pulse into the phallus, demanding that it make itself stiffer yet. His foreskin was pulled taut and the piss-slit peeked out from the end. Salim's ball-sack hung down like that of an older youth... the orbs within it having grown considerably in recent months.

Kamal's touch was sublime... light and sensuous. His fingers glided the foreskin down the shaft, revealing an exquisitely- shaped head. When he let go, the roll of pleasure-flesh remained snugly behind the slightly-flared ridge of the cockhead.

The dark-haired boy gazed down at the beautiful genitals, just on the verge of puberty, perfectly complementing Salim's extraordinarily handsome face and body.

Salim touched Kamal's shoulder-length black hair, and his hand slid down to the boy's cheek... to his chest... to the strings that tied his undergarment. As he fumbled with the tie, he dropped to his knees.

"Look how my hands tremble, Kamal! You would think I was afraid to reveal your treasure," said Salim, looking up into the gypsy- boy's face. "But I am not afraid, Kamal. In truth, I have never felt such desire. I want so much to have pleasures with you." The dark-haired boy merely smiled and caressed Salim's hair, his burning eyes saying more than mere words could ever convey.

As Salim lowered the undergarment, he beheld a soft 4-inch penis, pointing almost straight down. A short foreskin covered half of the glans, and the dusky-hued balls dropped only as low as the tip of his penis.

"Touch it.... Bring it to life with your hand," said the gypsy in a sensuous, breathy voice.

Salim reached out and lifted the cockhead in the crook of his thumb and forefinger, then wrapped his fingers and palm around the soft shaft. As Kamal promised, it came to life... instantly! Pulsating in Salim's hand, the penis throbbed to rigid erection in 10 seconds. It was almost as if the gypsy-boy could cause his cock to stay soft by the force of his will... then order it to become instantly hard. When Salim released his grasp, the erection stood up 5 inches and was of elegantly slender proportions. No hair appeared on the smooth tan skin at its base.

Salim's mouth was drawn to the cock as it had been drawn only minutes before to Kamal's lips. With his face an inch away, Salim breathed the delicate musk of boy-scent, and it intoxicated him the way a tangle of honeysuckle does on a hot summer day. He licked his lips and brought them down. That first gentle kiss on the tip of the cockhead spread over and around the glans, and his tongue twirled around the sensitive flesh. A soft sigh echoed in Salim's ears, and gentle hands glided through his shaggy blond hair.

The sensation of the boy's stiff penis in his mouth was so intensely pleasurable that Salim's body glowed with a feeling that was nearly orgasmic. Although he had sucked his friend Havel a number of times, and orally pleasured his little cousin Damir only a few nights before, this was different. The other boys' cocks had been smaller and less sexually mature even than Salim's own. But now the near-maturity of Kamal's erection felt so intensely exciting in his mouth. The smooth, warm, throbbing flesh... the unique taste... the pleasure of giving pleasure... the eroticism of Kamal's entire aura. Salim would have been satisfied to kneel there, suckling the gypsy-boy's cock all night long.

But Kamal gently pulled his hips away from Salim's mouth. "Let me lay on the bed, lest my knees collapse from the pleasure you bring me." And he stepped back and reclined on the edge of the low bed, his head resting on a cushion, his legs dangling over the side.

Salim stayed on his knees, crawling over to kneel between Kamal's spread legs and resume his oral attentions. Bringing the rigid cock upright with his right hand, Salim pulled the skin taut to fully reveal the cockhead, and devoured it hungrily. Moving his lips down the shaft, Salim knew that he could not take the erection too deeply or he would gag, as he had when he had tried sucking Havel's 4-inch cock to its base. Instead, he concentrated on the top three inches, trying to use his lips and tongue in ways that he thought would impart the greatest pleasure. And the sighs and moans that filled his ears gave Salim a rush of satisfaction that was nearly as erotic as if his own penis were being sucked.

As he worked with his mouth, Salim used his left hand to fondle Kamal's balls, stroke his belly, caress inner thighs. Then, remembering his erotic discovery of several nights previous, Salim wetted two fingers with spit and brought them to Kamal's puckered asshole.

"Mmmmmm.... Oh, yes!" purred the dark-haired boy as he lifted his legs up and back to make his ass more accessible.

As Salim pressed a finger against the anal muscle, the hole flexed open to practically suck the spit-slick digit in. Kamal's vocalized pleasure was an invitation for Salim to fuck his finger in and out as he continued to suck.

"Oh yes, lover! Oh... Salim... please... use two fingers.... Ah! Yes! Just like that! Yes!"

The gypsy's anal opening easily accommodated the two thrusting fingers, and Salim worked all the more intensely with his mouth, responding to every verbal and non-verbal cue by which Kamal signaled his desires. Using his intuition to make up for his lack of experience, Salim did things with his mouth that he had never tried with Havel, all the while fucking his fingers inside Kamal's slippery rectum.

As Kamal's legs began to tremble and his hands grabbed the bedcovers tightly, Salim bobbed his head rapidly up and down on the gypsy-boy's cock, flicking his tongue like a hummingbird at a flower.

"Yes!... Oh YES, my darling!... It's so good!... I'm going to cum!... Oh yes!... Here it comes!"

Though Salim knew about the spurting of semen, having watched older teenagers of his village masturbate in open view at the swimming hole, it still was a surprise when the thick salty fluid pulsed into his sucking mouth. But Salim eagerly swallowed it down and savored the unique taste on his tongue, delighting in how the spasms of Kamal's cock corresponded to the rhythmic clenching of anal muscles on Salim's fingers.

Kamal's hands reached down to pull Salim on top of him, and their mouths came together immediately in a deep passionate kiss. It was almost as if the gypsy-boy were hungry to taste his own cum in Salim's mouth, as he licked at the boy's tongue and lips. Salim's cock was rigidly erect, and he thrust it against Kamal's belly and crotch.

"My beautiful lover... that was so wonderful," said Kamal. "Would you fuck me, or shall I please you with my mouth instead?"

"Well... I've never fucked anyone before, but..."

"Oh, please let me be your first! You'll love it; I promise! Wet your cock with spit and put it in me."

Salim lubricated his cock and spread some additional saliva in Kamal's anal passage. The gypsy-boy pulled his knees way back as Salim's fingers probed into him again.

"Take me lover! Fuck me good!"

Salim knelt on the edge of the bed, his feet still on the floor, and aimed his slippery cock toward the pink pucker of Kamal's upraised ass. As his cockhead touched the rosebud of flesh, it opened for him and he pushed his hips forward. Salim moaned as his plump 4-inch boner glided in, all the way to the hilt. Kamal's whimpering sighs showed his utter pleasure at taking the immature boy-cock into his body.

Instinct guided Salim's movements as he leaned onto the backs of Kamal's legs and began thrusting his hips. Slow at first, then quickening with a compulsion to drive his cock deep... hard... fast. The raw sexuality of the animalistic rutting had both boys vocalizing their lust in sub-verbal grunts and groans. Kamal wrapped his hands Salim's butt and pulled him deeper with each forward thrust.

After only three minutes of fevered humping, Salim's orgasm rose up, crested, and crashed down. He collapsed on top of Kamal, gasping for breath, his body floating on a cloud of complete sexual satisfaction.

As they lay in each others arms, hugging tightly and kissing, Salim pulled his softening dick from Kamal hole and flopped over to the side, exhausted.

"Salim, my love! That was wonderful! You know... I have served so many grown men that I sometimes forget how good it is to be fucked by another boy."

Salim was startled by the remark, but too reticent to ask about its implications.

"But we hardly know each other, do we?" said the gypsy-boy. "How old are you, Salim?"

"Well, I'm not exactly sure...." Salim's family did not read words or numbers and had no use for calendars. "My parents say I was born on the night of the first good snowfall in the village, 12 autumns ago, so I'm very close to being 12. Maybe I already am."

"I just turned 13 two weeks ago," said Kamal. "And that unlucky number was certainly bad luck for my family when the collectors of the sultan's boy-tax took me. I had been supporting my family for 4 years with my work. Now they'll have to go back to their old lives as travelers."

"What was your work?" asked Salim innocently.

"Why, giving pleasure to men, of course."

"You mean they would pay you to..."

"Sure! And pay quite well. I wasn't one of those ragged little waifs who would sell a blowjob for a single copper mangir in the shadows of a back alley. I only serviced quality customers, in the bedrooms of inns. Shall I tell you the whole story?"

"Yes! Please!" said Salim who had turned on his side to gaze at Kamal with wide eyes.

"When I was much younger, my family led the traveling life of the Romany, camping outside of a town or city for a while, then moving on. My mother told fortunes for the townspeople who came to the camp for entertainment in the evening. My older sister sang and danced. My father was a horse trader. A good one, too. I would sometimes go with him to the town when he would do business, and he always seemed to know just how high a customer could be bargained up.

"One time, when I was 9 years old, a Turkish merchant told my father that he was not interested in the horse, but would pay 10 copper mangir pieces for an hour with me in his room at the inn. My father talked him up to a silver akche and agreed to bring me to his room that evening. Father gave me a couple glasses of wine and told me what I must do. As it turned out I enjoyed it, even that first time. The Turk was middle-aged and fat and had a small cock. And I had an inborn knack for pleasing a man. He undressed me and delighted in touching my naked body and diddling my little prick. I oiled up his cock and jacked him for a while as he lay back, then straddled him and rode his cock like a cavalryman rides a horse. I made sure he got his money's worth. My father remained just outside the door, and when we came out, the man paid an extra 5 mangirs to show his satisfaction.

"We ate well that night, and from then on the family business was ME! My father never had me entertain more than one man a night.... Well, except when the price was too good to turn down. And he always stayed just outside the room in case he was needed, like if a customer wanted to spank my bare ass... without having paid my father extra.

"Soon after I started working, the family settled permanently in Mostar. My father made arrangements with all the innkeepers, and paid them a regular fee to conduct business in their establishment. I would go with my father in the evening, and men who wanted me would often be looking for us in the tavern. My father would bargain the price up, and I would stand there quietly, making myself look desirable to the customer. I always could tell if he desired a tough street-boy... or a shy little sissy-boy... or a wanton seducer." And with each of the three descriptions, Kamal assumed the character, radically changing the expression on his face and the way he held his body... a true actor at work.

"There was one man a regular customer who was ashamed of his desire for a boy, and I would wear one of my sister's gypsy dresses when I went to his room. I can be a rather convincing girl, you know." Salim nodded; he had no doubt that was true.

"But enough about me! Tell me of YOUR life, Salim!" And Kamal snuggled against the younger boy, crotch-to-crotch, and kissed him gently.

The two talked into the night, sometimes pausing to eat, sometimes feeling their lust rise up again. That evening Kamal gave Salim the first of his lessons in cocksucking techniques -- an education that would go on for the duration of the voyage. The gypsy-boy taught him how to take a stiff penis into his throat without gagging; how the gentle application of teeth on the most sensitive parts of a penis could drive a man crazy with desire; how to vary the stimulus and make an oral session almost unbearably extended and intense. When they finally drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, they had given each other multiple orgasms.

In the morning, Abdul-Aziz didn't have to guess where his pupil could be found. "Come, boy; time to resume your studies." Though not reproachful, he warned Salim to get sufficient sleep to keep his mind clear for lessons and not waste the whole night on sex.

That day was much like the previous one. Ten hours of studying, with hardly a break, then time with Kamal, who had been released from his studies a bit earlier. Once again, Salim found his friend in the common area, snuggling with little Hussein. This time, however, Kamal did not dismiss the servant boy, but convinced Salim to let him join the fun. The Turkish lad proved as adept at pleasure-giving as the gypsy-boy, and that evening was spent in a tangle of three bodies... licking, sucking, kissing, humping.

Salim held fast to his decision not to be fucked, but he was as happy to thrust his cock into the other two as they were to receive him. And he had no objection to Kamal or Hussein sliding a finger or two inside him, as one or the other gave him a blow job. He was especially pleased when they massaged a particular spot inside his rectum that seemed to have a direct connection to the pleasure centers of his penis.

A particular talent that Hussein brought to the mix was his skill in using his tongue to stimulate anal flesh. The lad was content to lick and prod at the sensitive anal nerves of Kamal or Salim for as long as they could stand it. The two older boys experimented with this exciting new thrill as well, even discovering positions in which all three could simultaneously rim and be rimmed.

Hussein, being a Muslim, was circumcised. Salim took delight in seeing the boy's penis with its little crown so blatantly on display, even when it was completely soft. And it felt different when he took it in his mouth too. Not more pleasurable or less so; just an added variety.

The days went on like this for a week. Intense study, followed by intense sexuality. The eunuchs never intruded on the evening play, and the sailors were practically invisible as far as the boys were concerned. On the occasions when Salim went on deck, he often saw islands in the distance -- the sunbaked Greek isles of the Aegean Sea. But the ship never stopped at any of them, and the oars never stopped cutting through the water, day and night.

On the morning of the eighth day, Salim went on deck to take his morning pee, and saw that there was land not far away, on both sides of the ship. And it went on for as far as the eye could see. They were traveling through a narrow passage where numerous other vessels could be seen.

"This is the Marmara Sea," said Abdul-Aziz. "It is not far to our destination."

Indeed, by late morning, they were heading into a port, with a sizeable city spreading beyond the docks. Several impressively large mosques with tall minarets dotted the city.

"I'll not demonstrate my ignorance by presuming that this is Istanbul, sir; but may I be permitted to know?" asked Salim of his teacher.

"The city is called Bursa. See that great building over there? It is the tomb of the great sultan Mehmet. And that mountain off in the distance is Mount Uludag. The infidel Greeks called it Mount Olympos and believed that gods and goddesses lived atop it."

A few minutes later, the ship was moored and a gangplank extended down to the quay. "We will travel in that carriage," said Abdul-Aziz.

"Will Kamal go with us?"

"No. Come, boy. No more questions."

They got into a rich-looking carriage pulled by two horses and rode away from the docks and through the city. The outskirts of town became a park-like setting of trees and open meadows where nobody seemed to live. A few more minutes along, they came to a complex of stone buildings surrounded by a 10-foot-high wall. Two Janissary soldiers stood guard at the gate. Once inside, Salim was amazed to see a vista of gardens and fountains; shade trees and flowering shrubs. There were more peacocks wandering about than people.

Abdul-Aziz led Salim into a building and directly to a room on the ground floor. It was a bedroom, much like the one on the ship, but larger and even more ornate. A second door at the other side of the room opened onto a courtyard.

"I will return in the morning. You will stay here, though you may make use the garden as you like. Make yourself at home there."

Salim nibbled some of the food from the bountiful tray and then headed out to the courtyard. It was a large square space, over a hundred feet to a side, completely enclosed on all sides by the walls of two-story buildings. But no windows looked out onto the inviting gardens, and only a few windowless doors opened to it. (The spy-holes in the walls were practically invisible.) Salim wandered about, smelling flowers that were so different from those in his alpine homeland. When he came back to the large rectangular pond, he dipped his hand in. It was amazingly warm! Far more so than would be expected in the 70-degree autumn weather. Salim looked around, and seeing no one, took off his boots and socks and rolled up the legs of his trousers. Easing his feet into the warm water was an real pleasure, as he had still not become accustomed to wearing shoes. The sun warmed his back, and Salim decided to take off his shirt as well, feeling a sense of freedom in this strangely deserted space.

The boy's mind wandered, thinking about Kamal, about his cousin Damir, his old friend Havel, and his family. When he looked above the roof of the building, he could see the snow-covered summit of Mount Uludag, and the pang of homesickness hit him especially hard. It was so like the summits that guarded his mountain valley. His eyes felt as though tears might flow, but the boy calmed himself and cleared his mind of sorrow. Then, as he had done so often in the past, he began singing. It was not one of the Bosnian folk songs he knew. Rather, it was words that seemed to compose themselves on his tongue, directly from the mental images of his imagination... a tribute to his home. The song began in a near whisper, slowly building to a pure high tone that was enhanced by the echo off the walls:

"... The bright snow glowing on Grandfather Mountain; The red squirrel fussing at me from the pine bough; I drink from the cold water of the meadow stream, While the birds tell me to pick some flowers, More colorful than the rainbow. Returning to my quiet house; Mother weaving at the loom. She buys my bouquet with a kiss, And my heart soars with happiness...."

"That's very beautiful," said a voice in heavily-accented Bosnian dialect.

Salim looked behind him, completely startled to see a finely dressed young teenage boy, not 15 feet away. A Turk, to be sure. Perhaps a son of the wealthy family that owned this place? Or maybe just a servant. Salim took no chance and scrambled to his feet, embarrassed at having removed his boots and shirt. "Forgive me, sir!" he said in formal Turkish. "I did not mean to abuse the hospitality of the owners of this place." He grabbed for his shirt.

"No. Please!" said the older boy. "It is I who must apologize. I should not have surprised you that way. But your singing utterly entranced me, and I forgot my manners. And please don't put on your shirt; let me take mine off instead."

"Alright," said Salim as he relaxed and smiled, feeling instantly at ease with the handsome, dark-haired teenager. "My teacher said I could make myself at home here. I hope that is alright. My name is Salim," he said, holding out his hand.

The other boy took it and held it gently. "I am Osman. They told me I should feel at home here too. May I stay and talk?"

"Sure!" said Salim with a grin.

They spoke small-talk for a while -- in an amusing mixture of Turkish and Bosnian -- sitting with their feet in the warm water. Salim told Osman that he was a Janissary cadet and about his journey to this place from his village. He learned from Osman that the boy was 14 years old, that he lived in Istanbul with his widowed mother, and came here to visit this estate -- called Yildiz Park -- several times a year.

"Do you play cards?" asked Osman.

"Cards? I do not think so. Will you teach me?"

The teenager ran into the building and emerged in a moment with a deck of large playing cards and also a basket with bread, cheese, butter, and sliced meats. He set about teaching a few card games to Salim, and they ate and laughed together as they played. Osman was amazed, not only at how quickly the boy learned the games, but how he picked up the subtleties of play and could beat the older boy as often as not.

After a while, Osman said "Did you know that this is a bathing pool? It is warmed by the famous hot springs of Bursa, and its depth is over my head in parts. Can you swim?"

"A little. There was a small swimming hole near the village. The water was rather deep, but very cold."

"Let's go in then," said Osman, and he began taking off his trousers and the silk undergarment beneath. Salim did likewise, and in a minute, they were both naked. Salim's eyes were drawn instantly to Osman's dark-tan genitals -- much like Kamal's, but a bit more mature, and with a fringe of dark pubic hair at the base of his cock. And, of course, his penis lacked a foreskin, making its appearance compellingly exotic and erotic to Salim.

"You notice how our dicks are different. Muslim and Christian. Exposed and hooded. But I'll wager they look more similar when they are stiff.... Shall we see?" And Osman began to gently massage his penis, making it swell in his hand.

"Yes! Let's!" said Salim, and he excitedly ran the foreskin up and down over his cockhead, making himself stiff even quicker than the older boy.

They admired each other in silence for a long moment. Osman sported a slender erection of nearly 6-inches... not yet adult- sized in its proportions, but quite handsome.

"Time to swim!" said Osman, and he jumped feet first into the warm water. Salim followed and thrashed about, laughing... just barely competent at keeping his head above the surface.

"Come to this end. You can stand up," said Osman.

Once in shallower water, the two boys began to wrestle and roughhouse, their naked bodies rubbing together joyfully. Exhausted at last, the two boys lifted themselves onto the edge of the pool and relaxed.

"Would you sing for me again, Salim? You do it so well. I had a good voice until it cracked a few months ago, and now it sounds terrible. But I can recite some poetry for you, if you wish."

"Oh, yes, Osman. Please do a poem for me."

"OK. Here's one that I wrote not long ago. I hope it does not make you sad, but I thought of it immediately when I heard you singing about your homeland. It goes like this:

Let it play with your hair, this gentle breeze Blowing from the seven seas. If only you knew How handsome you are the way you gaze at the edge of the night Steeped in the grief of exile and longing, in sorrow.

Neither you Nor I Nor the dusk that gathers in your beauty Nor the blue sea. That safe harbor for the distress that assaults the brain - We spurn the elders who know nothing of the soul's pain.

Ignorant people Brand you merely a fresh young boy And me just a fool. That wretched appetite, that filthy sight Can find no meaning in you or me Nor a tender grief in the night Nor the sullen tremor of secrecy and disdain On the calm sea.

You and I And the sea And the night that seems to gather silently, Without trembling, the fragrance of your soul, Far away Torn asunder from the land where blue shadows hold sway, We are forever doomed to this exile here."

Salim thought for a moment, and then said "I didn't know all the words, but it was very lovely in its sound. It told of a boy like me, did it not?"

"Yes, my beautiful one," said Osman. "And now a song from your lips. Perhaps a happy one to balance the melancholy of my poem."

Salim chose a Bosnian folk song that told of young love, and lost love, and true love found again. His voice was so sweet that it would charm the nightingales, and it made Osman's eyes glaze with moisture.

"I'm sorry, Osman," said Salim, seeing the tears. "I tried to choose a happy one..."

"You chose well, Salim. These are tears of joy at the beauty of your voice." They gazed silently into each others' for a long moment. Osman's hand brushed the wet hair from Salim's forehead, and the younger boy felt his heart skip.

"Could it be possible, Salim, that I have fallen in love with you? My heart tells me it is so, though we have only just met."

Salim didn't have words with which to answer. Instead, he wrapped his arms around the handsome teenager's neck and kissed his lips tenderly. Osman embraced the boy, and their bodies merged in a crush of instant passion, lying back on the warm flagstones. Different-sized erections pressed together with a shared lust, as tongues wrestled back and forth.

"Let us lay together on the grass, Salim, that we may share pleasures."

And pleasure each other they did... rolling in each other's arms, kissing, stroking, sucking.

As they lay together, panting with lust, Osman kissed the boy gently. "I love you, Salim. I love you with all my heart."

"I... I love you too, Osman. I've never felt like this before, but it must be what love feels like."

"I am burning to enter you, my beautiful one. I must ask... are you a virgin, Salim?"

Salim blushed. "Yes, Osman. But I... I desire that you take me. Let me offer my body that you may give me your love."

The older boy got between Salim's legs and pushed them back, then brought his mouth down and lavished pleasure on the hole with flicks of his tongue. Then he got up and went to the food basket, taking some butter from its container and spreading it over his erection and into Salim's anus. Then he positioned his cock at the entrance and whispered to Salim "Push out that I may enter you more easily. I will go slowly, but you must open to me."

Slowly, Osman's stiff cock slid into Salim's virgin hole. Though it burned the ring of muscle at the entrance, Salim felt exhilarated by the sensation. His pleasure was enhanced by Osman's hand, stroking Salim's erection.

Osman was patient and gentle. Salim, eager and willing. In a short time, they were moving together in the eternal dance of love, with Osman thrusting smoothly into Salim's body... murmuring words of love... leaning down to kiss his lips. When at last Osman's seed spurted into Salim's rectum, the younger boy was moaning with pleasure, begging to be fucked hard and deep.

They lay together in the glow of young love... touching and kissing... until at last Osman said "The sun sinks low, my love. Time to get dressed."

But as soon as the two boys had their pants secured, two plump eunuchs hurried in the courtyard. When they came up to Osman, they fell to their knees with their foreheads touching the ground.

"Your Majesty," said the older of the two. "Your Council awaits. I have not allowed anyone to disturb you, but there are important matters to attend to. May I accompany you to the Council Chamber forthwith?"

"*Sigh* Yes, I suppose so.... Salim, my love; I will see you tonight in my bedchamber."

Meanwhile, Salim was dumbfounded at what he was seeing and hearing. The other eunuch took him aside and said "I see from your expression that the Sultan has not been forthcoming as to his identity. He will sometimes do this to try out new boys coming into his service. It would appear that he was rather pleased with you, boy. Perhaps you will even be among the favored ranks of his pages. He has 200 boys in his service, but only 10 are in the first rank at any given time."

Salim could barely utter a word. "S..s..sultan? Osman is the sultan?"

The young ruler walked out of the garden, talking with his chief counselor.

"I have decided to make Salim my new favorite boy. See to the arrangements."

"Yes, sire. And what of Nassim? Shall he remain in the first rank or move down to the rank of an ordinary page? And if he is to stay in the first rank, which of the others will move down?"

"Beautiful Nassim.... I think he is far too proud to tolerate being anything but my favorite. Almost too lovely and desirable, but always so vain about his beauty! What shall I do? Too young for the army or an administrative job. And he has just recently begun spurting the manly seed, so he is too old for the physicians to transform into one of your kind. I do still love him, but he is longer my favorite. Ah! I know. Next time I take my archery practice, include him among the prisoners who will be my targets. It will honor him to spill his blood for his sultan. There! That's settled. Now let us see what the Council has for me.

Yes; there really was a 14-year-old sultan named Osman in 1618. The history books say he was handsome, charming, smart, poetic, bisexual, and notorious for his casual cruelty. His did indeed take archery practice using prisoners (and sometimes his own harem-boys) as the targets. Should make for an interesting Part 5, don't you think? Also, the poem is the actual text of an Ottoman poem from the period.

Chapter 5

The middle-aged servant standing beside Salim -- plump, bald, and wearing a long robe of fine material -- talked in a chatty monologue as he helped himself to the left-overs from the food basket. Salim had learned over the past week to identify such men as being eunuchs... individuals whose manhood had been robbed from them, but who nonetheless seemed to be powerful functionaries in the sultan's government.

"Did you hear what his majesty said as he left, boy? He wants you in his bed tonight," said the man, speaking in Turkish. "Some new pages spend a week waiting just to be examined by his majesty, and you will be sharing his bed on your first night. You are off to a good start, lad."

As the man continued talking, it became ever more clear to the young Bosnian peasant-boy how his life had taken yet another abrupt turn... making him one of nearly 200 page-boys who served the sultan in a variety of ways. Most had been brought to the palace in the 10 months since Osman ascended the throne. One might say that the sultan collected beautiful and exotic boys as a hobby. He sent out squads of court eunuchs to search the furthest reaches of the Empire to find the finest examples to add to his collection. Salim had been selected thus... plucked from a troop-ship carrying 500 boys who had been newly recruited (enslaved, to be more precise) to serve in the sultan's Janissary army.

Salim listened as the man explained that a similar number of girls and young women composed the sultan's harem. The bisexual sultan was nearly as enthusiastic about finding girls who appealed to him as he was in acquiring the most desirable boys.

As the eunuch was finishing the last of the food, Salim saw another person entering the garden. He had the shaved head and was dressed in the same flowing robe as the various eunuchs that Salim had encountered since he left Bosnia. But this one was younger. His round face -- smooth and plump -- made it difficult to tell, though, whether he was a 19-year-old or a 14-year-old. Indeed, were he not so large (several inches taller than Salim, with a husky build) he might pass for an even younger age. The new arrival bowed slightly to the older eunuch and spoke to him in a respectful and soft tone.

"Greetings, Ibrahim. The majordomo has directed me to inform you that your services are needed in the Council chamber. I have been assigned by the page-master to be this boy's mentor. He is now the sultan's erkek chocuk favori."

"Erkek chocuk favori?!" echoed the man. "But he's just arrived!" His face showed surprise as he looked over at Salim, and his eyes studied the lad, who was clad only in the thin cotton undergarment that Janissary cadets wore beneath their wool uniform pants. He had not really paid attention to the boy's appearance previously, and he smiled as he took note of Salim's flaxen hair, his eyes the color of the summer sky, and his full red lips. As Ibrahim scanned down the boy's torso, he thought to himself that the lad would soon be maturing to broad-shouldered and strong-chested adolescence... but for now his body was a model of delightful boyhood beauty. Small nipples, only slightly darker than his smooth lightly-tanned chest, came to tiny points as the autumn breeze blew across them. As the eunuch's eyes dropped further, he noticed the bulge of well-proportioned genitals outlined beneath the soft flimsy undergarment. "Yes," he mused aloud; "I can see why." He bowed slightly to Salim and waddled off quickly.

Salim was absent-mindedly staring at the young eunuch, and also wondering about the meaning of the Turkish phrase the men had been used to describe him. The plump teenager stared back at Salim with an enigmatic expression on his face.

"You look at me in curiosity, lad. I'll guess you have not seen a younger member of my Brotherhood."

Salim blushed and cast his eyes down. "Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to be rude," said the boy in formal Turkish. "But you are correct. All the other... uh... the ones who were... the ones like you...."

"Do not be embarrassed to call me a eunuch, for that is what I am. There is no shame in being of the brotherhood of eunuchs in the sultan's court. It is a source of pride for me.... But no matter. I am here to be of service to you as your mentor and attendant. My superior tells me, Salim, that you are a country boy, fresh from the mountains of Bosnia. If that is so, you will need all the help you can get," he said with a slight smile. "My name is Yusef, and you should feel free to speak to me in the informal mode if you wish. Perhaps you would allow me to speak informally to you as well."

"Yes, sir.... I mean, sure, Yusef. Thanks!"

"Or we could converse in Bosnian, if you wish," he said, switching fluently to the Bosnian dialect and watching Salim's eyes light up with joy. "Do you have any questions of me?"

Salim was so relieved to be speaking in his native tongue that his words flowed out in a tumble.

"Oh, Yusef. I have ten thousand questions and don't know where to start! Only 10... no, 11 days ago, I was tending my family's garden and feeding the goats. Then I became a Janissary cadet. And now I am to be the sultan's page. It is all too much for my brain to hold!"

"Not a mere page, Salim. The sultan has made you his erkek chocuk favori, which means his favorite among all the pages. It is a formal rank and it means that you have become one of the more important people in the Empire. You will live a very luxurious life henceforth, and as the sultan's consort you may even be consulted sometimes when he makes decisions in matters of state. You will be at his majesty's side much of the day... and in his bed on most nights."

Salim again felt his brain tumbling into a swirl of unreality. "I am what?... But... but I do not wish for power. Or luxury either. I expected only to be a Janissary and be trained to fight in the sultan's army."

"The will of Allah is sometimes difficult for men to understand, Salim. But trust the Almighty to lead you on the right path. For now, Allah in His wisdom has made you the sultan's favorite boy. Fulfill your destiny by doing your best."

"The sultan said that he loves me, Yusef," mused Salim, thinking about how he had told Osman the same words in return. "Could this be true, or was he just saying it to tease me?"

"I have no doubt that he loves you, Salim. But his majesty's whim is our absolute command, and he is but 14 years old. Sometimes he fall out of love too."

"Was there a favorite boy before me then?"

"Yes; there have been several. The one who was favorite until this afternoon is named Nassim... a Persian boy of extraordinary beauty."

"And what will he do now, if he is no longer the favorite?"

"That is something I do not know, Salim. Perhaps he will remain in the group of 10 pages who are called the 'first rank'. They are the sultan's most regular pleasure-givers... after the favorite, of course. But he could go on to other things. He was born a Muslim, so he cannot become a Janissary, but often-times a sultan's page will receive training so that he may become an official in the government." [Yusef was unaware of Nassim's upcoming fate... mentioned at the end of Chapter 4.]

"I'm not sure I can do this, Yusef. How can I be the favorite if I know nothing of the sultan's court? You must tell me everything! How shall I please the sultan? Tell me all about the him. And all about the palace. I heard from your fellow eunuch... Ibrahim was his name?... that the sultan has many boys and girls in his service. Can he actually make love to all of them?"

"There is indeed much for you to learn, young one. And some of it you will need to figure out for yourself. You must quickly become astute at reading his majesty's moods and correctly guessing his desires so that you may serve him appropriately. The sultan is wise for his years, but he still has the impulsiveness of youth. One thing you should know is that he is in the prime of his virility, and he strives to discover new ways of sexual arousal and satisfaction. My Brotherhood runs the sultan's household, and we supervise the pages and harem-girls. It has been thus for almost 300 years, under 20 sultans, so we are rather adept at arranging activities that will satisfy his majesty. Like many of his predecessors, he delights in being provided with a variety of beautiful faces and bodies. It pleases him to be entertained by the dancing and singing and play-acting of his young attendants, and we arrange erotic melodramas to be performed at his meals or in the privacy of his bedchamber. And sometimes it pleases him to join in the play-acting as well, though he does so only in his bedchamber. You will have an interesting time of it, as his consort and constant companion. And I will soon tell you in more detail how to please him, but now let us get you settled in your new living quarters and clothed in a manner appropriate to the sultan's favorite boy. Leave your soldier's uniform here; you will no longer need it."

The two of them entered the building, and Yusef led the way through twists and turns of corridors. When at last he opened a door and motioned Salim inside, the boy was stunned by the opulence of the furniture and fine fabrics and gilded decorative elements of a room that was 40 feet square.

"The sultan's bedchamber is on the other side of this wall," said Yusef. "Do you see this sliding panel? Through it, you may discreetly observe what goes on in the next room. It pleases the sultan to be watched by his favorite while he engages in sexual activity with others. I trust you are not given to jealously. Most times, however, you will be an active participant when others serve him in his bedchamber.... Now, remove your garment, and I will bathe you and dress you in proper attire."

Yusef went over to a fireplace where an iron pot hung over a low- burning flame. He ladled warm water into a large bowl, got a sponge from a shelf, and brought them back as Salim was slipping the cotton undergarment down his hips. When Salim was standing naked, Yusef noticed the boy's uncut foreskin and clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

"You still have the penis of an infidel, I see. Most likely, that will be attended to first thing tomorrow."

"Attended to?"

"It would be unacceptable for the sultan's favorite to be unclean in the eyes of Allah. The court physicians will remove the extra skin so that you will be purified and can become a Muslim."

Salim instinctively brought his hands down to shield his genitals. "Does it hurt when they do this, Yusef?"

The eunuch was already sponging Salim's back and buttocks as he talked. "Do not be concerned, Salim. They will feed you a drug called opium, which dulls your senses and keeps you from feeling any pain. I had mine clipped a few days after the slave merchants took my balls. I assure you that losing one's balls is far more significant in its consequences. And anyone in the palace will tell you that the sight of a trimmed cock is more esthetically pleasing... though some think that an infidel cock has a certain primitive and exotic appeal. Now, lean over and spread the globes of your ass apart so that I may clean you there." When he saw Salim's inflamed flesh and a trickle of dried blood, he said "You are not accustomed to being penetrated by a cock, are you?" Salim shook his head. "It must have hurt then, when the sultan took you in the courtyard."

Salim was startled momentarily that others had been observing as Osman had made love to him, but he said only: "It hurt at first... in fact it burned like fire. But the sultan was very gentle, and I came to enjoy it greatly at the conclusion."

The eunuch spoke with sympathy and concern: "A boy who feels pain when he is penetrated cannot concentrate on being a good lover. Let me do something to stretch you there, that you might more easily accept his love tonight." And Yusef went quickly to a cabinet and returned with an object of smoothly-carved ivory... a shaft as long as Osman's cock, but thicker. It tapered a bit near its wide base -- a groove where it would be held in place by the recipient's anal muscle. Yusef oiled the dildo and had Salim hold his ass-cheeks apart again. With Yusef's gentle touch and instructions to push out against the insertion, the wide plug was quickly imbedded in the boy's rectum. Salim stood up straight, feeling a warm rush of pleasure in his bowels. The fullness and pressure made his anal nerves tingle, and brought exciting feelings to his loins. He recalled the feeling of Osman's cock sliding erotically inside his body, in the final drive toward orgasm, and how he had actually been begging the teenager to fuck him harder and faster.

The eunuch resumed washing Salim's body, coming around to sponge his genitals. He saw immediately that the lad's penis was rigidly erect. Salim blushed with embarrassment and started to mumble an apology. He had learned only recently how the sight of his naked body -- especially when his cock rose up -- tended to inflame the passions of some men.

"I care not that your member is stiff, Salim. It just makes it all the easier to clean," said Yusef cheerfully, as he dipped a soft cotton cloth in the water, retracted the boy's foreskin, and dabbed at the purplish glans and upper shaft. "Naturally, I am aware that you are quite beautiful... I'm not blind... but I feel no lust for you. Your stiff penis means no more to me than your elbow or thumb." He continued washing the boy until he was satisfied. "There. The extra skin on your member may make you unclean in the eyes of Allah, but I will at least be satisfied that it is as clean as I can make it for the mouth of the sultan. You're already aware, I think, that he enjoys taking a boy's penis between his lips."

Salim merely smiled, wistfully recalling Osman's oral attentions during the interlude of lovemaking out in the garden, which Yusef or others from his Brotherhood apparently had been spying upon.

As Yusef dried Salim's body with a towel, he said: "So you will be 12 years old in three days, eh? You seem mature for one of that age."

"Three days? You know this with exactness?" said Salim with surprise. "I never learned to use a... a..."

"A calendar?" asked Yusef, and Salim bobbed his head. "The bureaucrats in your home province keep very accurate records of newborn boys... the better to assure a plentiful collection of the boy-tax."

Then Yusef brought over a tray with small bottles and jars.

"Hmmm... Which scents shall I use to adorn you?" he said, almost to himself. "Usually it is best to choose a selection of smells that matches the aspects of your nature. Let's see.... You are pure and innocent, so I will place the scent of delicate wildflowers here. And you are certainly beautiful... a touch of rose oil here. Your rural earthiness calls for a mixture of herbs down here..."

The eunuch put tiny drops of scented oils at various places on Salim's naked body -- the base of his still-erect penis, the place where the cleft of his ass met his back, on his neck just behind his ear, within each armpit, the middle of his back between his shoulder blades, and a mixture of several complementary scents rubbed into Yusef's palms and then brushed lightly through Salim's hair. Salim closed his eyes and let the skillfully combined smells fill his nostrils and stimulate his senses.

When Salim spoke again it was to ask a question that had been turning in his mind. In a tentative voice, cautious about giving offense, he asked "Yusef... when your balls were removed... how did it happen? And why?"

"Let's see... I would have been 8 years old when it happened; a ragamuffin street urchin in Sarajevo, half a lifetime ago. I was from a big family. Lots of children and no money to speak of. I suppose my parents got an offer from the slave merchant that was too good to turn down, so in the blink of an eye I went from playing in the alley with my friends to riding in a caravan headed toward Istanbul. The first night, they stretched me out naked on a wooden table in a blacksmith shop. While four men held me down, another pulled on my little sack and held my penis out of the way. A sixth man took a knife from the smithy's fire, glowing red-hot. It was done in a second, the wound instantly cauterized by the heat. I was lucky, and didn't become ill afterwards, as often happens. A few boys even die from the procedure. Since a eunuch slave-boy sells for twice the price of one who has not been transformed, it's worth the slaver's risk. Some eunuchs have their penis cut off as well, and if they have the good fortune to survive that, they fetch a much higher price yet.

"As for why... you'll find that the palace is staffed almost exclusively by men of my Brotherhood and by young eunuch-boys. We are the only ones trusted to be around the pages and harem-girls, because we do not lust for them. We would not really be able to take one of them sexually in any event. But just to be sure, the most prized of the harem-girls are attended by eunuchs who have had their penis removed.

"Like the many eunuch-boys you will see around the palace, at first I did household work and was a serving-boy at banquets. When I reached 15, I was officially inducted into the Brotherhood.... My head was shaved and I came under the supervision of the page-master. That was two years ago, and here I am now... personal attendant to the sultan's favorite! I must admit to having feelings of vanity about my rapid advancement."

"I'm glad they selected you, Yusef. I feel already that you are a friend. But, if I may inquire further... have you never had sex? Does your penis never stiffen?" asked Salim, with honest curiosity.

"Oh, my penis can stiffen -- with some encouragement -- much as it could when I was an 8-year-old and still had a tiny pair of balls hanging below it. Here... observe," he said, and lifted his robe to reveal a stubby 1-inch appendage, made all the more insignificant by his pudgy belly and thighs. Not a single hair sprouted from his crotch. And where there should have been a scrotum, there was nothing. With the vigorous manipulation of fingers, the penis became half-hard and stood out barely more than 2 inches. "It gives ticklish sensations, but I'm well aware it is not the same thing you feel when your member is fondled." He dropped his robe again.

"When I came to the sultan's palace, only a month after my parents sold me, I was given extensive instruction in the ways of pleasing a man. You'll find that many men have a fondness for taking a young eunuch boy to their bed. Now that I am in the Brotherhood and a page-attendant, I no longer engage in those activities. But as a young serving-boy, I gave blow jobs beyond counting and took a cock up my backside numerous times. But for me it was just another task... like sweeping the floor or polishing silverware. I always tried to do it well, and was proud when my efforts were pleasing to whichever man I served, but that was it. Having witnessed the power that lust exerts over men, I suspect I am the happier for not being subject to such forces.

"But enough of this talk. It will be time for the evening banquet soon, Salim. I need to instruct you in how to attend to his majesty properly." And Yusef proceeded to explain the details of the upcoming festivity... describing the sorts of men who would be there as courtiers and guests... the ways in which Salim should act and the things he should say... the entertainment that would accompany the food... and the erotic atmosphere that would increase as the evening progressed. The eunuch even taught Salim a song in Turkish that he might sing if called upon.

"I must emphasize one very important element of court protocol, lad," he said gravely. "Although many guests at the banquet -- perhaps all of them -- will be quite open in the quenching of their lust, the Sultan must not be so flagrant. It is a long tradition that the sultan's virile member shall not be displayed at such a public setting. You may, of course, show yourself to him and everyone else if it pleases him. And there will be a slot in his robe through which you may insert your hand to fondle him discretely. But it would be unacceptable for his cock to be uncovered. Do you understand?" asked the eunuch. Salim nodded his head.

And finally, Yusef instructed the boy as to what he might expect when he and the sultan... and perhaps others as well... retired to the privacy of the sultan's bedchamber for a night-cap of sexual pleasure. He ascertained that Salim was comfortable keeping the dildo embedded in his bottom through the course of the evening, and he promised to remove it from the boy's bottom when the banquet ended.

The eunuch then dressed the boy -- in a tunic of dark-red satin and baggy trousers of black silk. Salim wore no undergarment, and he felt his cock rise up as it brushed against the loose fabric. And he smiled gratefully when Yusef brought a pair of velvet sandals -- not leather boots -- for his feet.

Salim followed Yusef through the hallways until they reached an enormous and lushly-decorated banquet room. Three tables formed a U-shape, with the area in the center open and covered with rich oriental rugs. Yusef had explained that the four most-honored guests would be at the center table with the sultan, each attended by one of the sultan's collection of beautiful page-boys and harem-girls. Two dozen other men, arranged in declining order of rank and status, would be sitting along the sides... each personally served by a young eunuch-boy who knelt beside the guest's richly upholstered chair.

Music was playing in the background -- stringed instruments, some plucked and others bowed; several kinds of reed flutes; small cymbals; and three drummers playing a complex rhythm on hand- drums.

The room began to fill quickly with the lower-ranking courtiers and guests, as Salim knelt down on a cushion in front of a leather divan where Osman would sit. To his right knelt a girl of 14 years, with light brown skin, long black hair, and small cone- shaped breasts visible beneath her transparently thin silk shirt. Next to her was a blond-haired boy of 12 years. Both of them possessed exquisitely beautiful faces, and both looked over at Salim with outwardly polite smiles but suspicious curiosity in their eyes. Turning to his left, Salim saw two more young beauties. He noticed immediately that they were symmetrical opposites of the first two -- a 14-year-old dusky-skinned adolescent boy and a younger blond girl who was naked above the waist, except for a ribbon of silk fabric across her nipples that emphasized the near-flatness of her chest.

The entry of the sultan and primary guests was well orchestrated. One at a time, in rising order of their importance, they entered the room and were greeted with a kiss by the boy or girl who would serve them at the meal (and stay with them through the night if the guest so desired), and were led to their place at the head table. First out was a provincial governor from Syria, who was assigned the young blond boy to Salim's right; then the Russian ambassador, who received a kiss on the cheek from the older girl; followed by the visiting Pasha of Athens who seemed quite pleased with the young blond girl; and finally the army general who commanded the sultan's praetorian guard of Janissary soldiers, who eyed the handsome adolescent boy with an expression that was a mixture of hauteur and lust.

When the sultan entered, everyone in the room stood up and bowed so low that their foreheads practically touched their knees. Salim was the first to rise up, following the instructions Yusef had given, and took Osman's right hand and kissed it.

"Salim, my love," said the sultan in a soft voice. "You have not left my thoughts in the hours since we parted this afternoon. Impossible as it seems, you look even more beautiful now than when we were together in the garden."

"It fills me with pride that I please you, your majesty," said Salim in formal Turkish. Then he smiled and said softly "I have thought much of you too, sire."

"You will call me Osman. It is the prerogative of my favorite and nobody else. And you alone shall speak to me in the informal mode. Understood?" And the sultan embraced Salim and kissed him gently on the lips.

Salim answered with his lips and tongue and body, oblivious to the roomful of guest who remained bent forward as the two boys kissed.

"You smell delightful, my precious one; I am impatient for the time tonight when I may truly show you the depth of my love," whispered the sultan as he broke the embrace. Then, in a loud voice: "Greetings, my honored dinner companions. Rise up and accept my hospitality."

From the corner of the room, an obese middle-aged eunuch clapped his hands twice. Doors opened and large trays of food and pitchers of sweet tea and juices were swiftly brought in. Each of the eunuch boys, who ranged in age from 8 to 14, moved quickly to serve the guest to whom he had been assigned.

The friendly banter of men filled the room with noise. No women were present as guests. The sultan exchanged small-talk with the guests at the head table, in a loud voice to be heard over the din of talking and music. Salim knelt beside the sultan, feeding him morsels of food with his fingers. He looked for guidance to the actions of the four comely youths who attended the men to whom they had been given for the evening. The sultan and the four men at the head table sat back on cushions, away from the table, and they casually fondled their attendants as they ate and talked and laughed. Osman's hand was on Salim's body almost continuously, stroking and caressing. And sometimes he would motion Salim to sit beside him on the love-seat, snuggling the boy against him, kissing his lips. When the sultan's fingers snaked beneath the loose waistband of Salim's silk pants and toyed with his penis, it became instantly stiff.

Osman gently masturbated the boy, sliding the foreskin back and forth over the slender head of the boy's rigid 4-inch shaft. He whispered into Salim's ear: "Your stalk is the very essence of eroticism, my beautiful infidel. Merely touching you sends shivers through me. When we get to my bedchamber, dear Salim, my lips and tongue will pay homage to you in way that mere fingers are incapable."

As the meal progressed at a leisurely pace, Osman and Salim became increasingly absorbed with each other... talking, playing, laughing. The sultan invented a game in which he would hold a bit of food between his lips, and Salim would nibble it from his grasp... then Salim would giggle and place a morsel between his own lips for Osman to eat.

The Syrian governor remarked quietly to his young serving boy, who was seated on his lap: "Your cute little friend and the sultan are like lovebirds. Look at how they feed each other!"

"I have observed it, honored master," grinned the 12-year-old (who was now naked from the waist down), "But truthfully, I've not even met the sultan's attendant. He is indeed appealing, though."

"As are you, little one," said the official, as he kissed the boy and resumed diddling his immature penis.

Some 40 minutes into the meal, the sultan stood up. Total silence fell over the room immediately.

"You no doubt have noticed my dining companion. You've not seen him before, but he is my new favorite."

Murmurs of approval rose up throughout the room. Phrases such as "an exquisite choice, sire" and "he is indeed beautiful, your majesty" filled Salim's attentive ears.

"And he has the voice of an angel to match the perfection of his form," said Osman. "Before the entertainment begins tonight, perhaps Salim will sing a song for me."

Salim silently thanked Yusef for preparing him so well. He stood up beside the sultan, looked around the silent room, then directed his attention back to Osman and began to sing. The rich, high voice that had charmed the sultan that afternoon sounded even sweeter inside the quiet banquet hall as he sang a love song in Turkish:

"You have come to me to open my eyes, and your body to me is a window. You have come like the night, that comes to the owl, To show him all things in the dark...."

Every person in the room listened in rapt attention as the Salim sang the familiar tune. A reed flute joined in, then a violin.

"... And I learn of every eyelash, and fingernail, and every hair at your warm mast, and the smell of pine tree and turf, in the night scent of your body. If I have torments, they have all set sail to you. My white sail to your darkness. Allow me to walk, oh allow me to walk free, to kneel at the cost of forgiveness...." Salim was singing only to Osman; singing with such emotion and beauty that it brought tears to the sultan's eyes. As before, Salim's singing utterly captivated the older boy's heart. "... You have come to me to open my eyes, and your body to me is a view, a window, a mirror. You have come like the night, that comes to the owl, To show him all things in the dark."

When the prolonged last note finally ended, Osman held out his arms to Salim, and the boy hastened to fall into his embrace and receive his tender kisses.

The full complement of musicians began playing again as the sultan and his young lover were lost in each other's caresses, oblivious of everything else around them. When at last they separated, a single clap from the eunuch standing in the corner caused the musicians to increase the volume and tempo of their playing. Through the door at the end of the banquet hall came four children -- two boys and two girls -- running and tumbling in acrobatic flips to the carpeted area in the center of the room. All were Salim's age or a bit younger, and all were dressed identically in the briefest of short pants and nothing else. Their bare chests differed only in the puffy protrusion of brown nipples on the nearly-flat chests of the girls... the very earliest signal of budding sexual maturity. The thin cotton of the tight pants outlined the immature genitals of the boys and the delicate mounds at the girls' crotches. Their slender asses were highlighted beneath the clinging fabric.

So radiantly beautiful were all four that Salim knew immediately that they must be page-boys and harem-girls. Their athletic tumbling was worthy of a traveling circus, as the pair of boys joined hands and flung each girl repeatedly into the air, where she flipped and spun and tumbled as if soaring like a bird. Then they switched places, and the girls propelled each boy into aerial acrobatics. They did clever and varied exercises on the ground too, and performed feats of bodily contortion that brought expressions of amused surprise to the guests. Though never explicitly erotic, the youngsters' movements had an underlying sensuality that was palpable.

As they completed their performance, to the approving applause of the sultan and his guests, they were replaced by three dancing girls... all around 14 years old, wearing short tunics of the ancient Greek style. The white silk costumes barely covered their crotches and buttocks, and came up over only one shoulder... leaving one breast fully exposed. And each girl's breast was a model of perfect feminine adolescence... petite mounds with a small brown nipples, made stiff just before they entered the hall by a rubbing of snow brought that day from the peak of Mount Uludag. The eyes of every man in the room were on the three as they moved sensuously, bending and arching their bodies, dancing with increasingly suggestive and erotic movements. The most beautiful of the girls danced before the sultan, while the other two -- beauties in their own right -- faced the side tables.

Osman looked over at the Pasha of Athens, who was something of an authority on the myths handed down from ancient Greek heathen. He was an admirer as well of the many beautiful statues and marble friezes on temple ruins throughout the area of the Empire that he administered. The Pasha made a hand-motion of grateful thanks to the sultan, who had suggested to his majordomo an ancient Greek theme for the entertainment, in the Pasha's honor.

Each dancing girl frequently touched herself suggestively as she moved, a hand brushing against her exposed breast, stroking her hips, fingers sliding along her face and neck as if inviting the onlookers to partake of her perfection. Every time one of the dancers lifted her leg high in the air, it exposed her naked mound, devoid of hair (which the harem girls plucked from each others' bodies daily). The instruments played a sultry rhythm as the dancing created a growing erotic tension in the silent room.

Suddenly, a trio of young teenage boys entered the room, clad only in the short linen kilts of ancient Greek peasant lads. They moved like cats as they approached the girls, separating so that each boy approached a different girl. In a silent ballet, each boy pantomimed a hopeful seduction, wooing the girl, touching her arm cautiously, stroking her cheek, then touching her breast boldly. The two girls dancing before the tables along the sides responded to the boys with encouragement, and each couple gradually intertwined to dance together in a stylized embrace... kissing and fondling... the girl's hand lifting the boy's kilt to reveal his adolescent erection to the audience, which she took in her hand and rhythmically stroked. Those two couples glided gracefully out of the room, as if going off into the woods to discretely make love.

But the third couple the pair dancing for the sultan's table played out a different scenario. The boy was smaller than his two companions, and smaller than the girl. His seductive movements were also less refined and met with haughty rejection, his touches slapped away. He danced slowly out of the room with a look of sorrow on his face. The girl, meanwhile, continued to dance by herself, right in front of Salim and the sultan. And her dance became ever more erotic as one hand pinched and caressed the hard nipple of her exposed breast. Her other hand came up beneath the hem of her tunic and folded it back into the belt at her waist, fully exposing her mound. The girl's fingers began to move in masturbatory motions... probing between the increasingly engorged and moist lips of her pink sex. All the while, her body swayed in a dance of self-love, her head tilted back and swaying, with eyes closed.

The sultan watched the erotic display as he held Salim close beside him, an arm wrapped around the boy's shoulder. Then he took Salim's hand and brought it to his lap, between the folds of his robe. Salim smiled with gratitude at finally being allowed to pleasure Osman's cock. He eagerly wrapped his fingers around the youth's 6-inch erection... warm and stiff, the tip moistened by drops of slippery fluid... and he slowly moved his hand lightly up and down the circumcised shaft.

This was the action the guests had been waiting for... the official signal for them to part their robes and satisfy their own built-up lust. Almost to a man, they eagerly motioned to the eunuch-boys kneeling beside them. Salim watched as the serving boys positioned themselves between their masters' spread legs. Boys' mouth came down on the men's cocks, and their heads began to slowly bob up and down in the guests' laps. Most guests knew from experience that these attendants were superbly trained and could make their oral service last for exactly as long as the entertainment continued in the center of the room, delaying a man's orgasm, and holding him at the peak of arousal.... unless the man demanded earlier relief, of course.

At the head table, the scene was not much different. But instead of robed eunuch-boys, the honored guests were being attended by beautiful page-boys and harem-girls.

The dusky older girl, now naked, and was kneeling between the Russian ambassador's legs, sucking him deep and twisting her mouth each time her lips rose back up his thick shaft.

The young blond girl straddled the Pasha's lap, her tiny nipples being licked by the man as she reached down into his robe to stroke him.

The younger boy, now totally nude, was sucking the Syrian's cock. The boy lay across the divan with his head in the governor's lap, tonguing and sucking his plum-size glans, as the man fondled the boy's buttocks.

The dark-haired older boy was being treated rather differently by the Janissary general. At the man's whispered command, the boy removed the general's slippers and began fondling his feet and sucking sensuously on his toes.

Regardless of how the men were being personally served, however, all of them kept their attention on the girl at the center of the room, who continued her dance of artistic masturbation. And then another group of boys came in through the door at the back of the banquet hall. Four teenage boys, three of them 13 or 14, the other a muscular youth with the fresh face of a 16-year-old, but the powerful body of a young adult. The smallest of the younger boys was the same one who had been spurned by the dancing girl, and all were dressed like him in a short kilt of ancient Greek design and naked from the waist up.

They approached the girl from behind in the stylized movements of a ballet, expressions of malicious lust on their faces. The musicians' playing had turned ominous, enhancing the mood of the wordless melodrama, and as the girl noticed the boys she acted out expressions of surprise and fear. The older boy grabbed her from behind and tore apart her flimsy silk tunic from neck to hem in a single motion of his strong hands, throwing the remnant to the floor. He gestured to the smallest boy to come forward, and pinned the girl's arms behind her back as the 13-year-old greedily fondled and licked the girl's breasts and brought his fingers to her crotch. Then the teenager pushed the girl to her hands and knees, straddling her back as if riding a horse, and gestured to the lad to remove his garment and be orally serviced the girl.

The young boy unbuttoned the linen kilt, and was nude as he flung it aside. He turned in a circle to proudly display a stiff 4-inch penis for all to see, then pressed it to the girl's mouth. She acted out her refusal to suck it, shaking her head from side to side, but the older boy grabbed her by the hair and held her head up. As the scene played out in front of the sultan's table, she took the boy's slender cockhead between her lips and ran her tongue around it. But the older boy forced her head all the way to the hairless base of the boy-cock. Holding her head with both hands, he appeared to be forcing her head up and down on his younger friend's stiff penis. To either side, the two other boys slowly removed their skimpy garments in a sexy strip-tease and began masturbating as they moved their bodies in a stylized dance of youthful lust.

The scene didn't last for long before evolving to an even higher plane of raw eroticism. The muscular teen pulled off his own kilt to reveal an oiled erection of impressive proportions 8 inches of thick, dark-red, throbbing flesh. From his stance astride the girl's waist, he shifted back so he was squatting behind her and momentarily probed her sex-slit with his fingers. Then he positioned his erection and thrust his hips forward, fucking his cock all the way into her. While still penetrating her, he suddenly stood up -- one arm wrapped around her chest and the other cradling under one of her thighs. Now, instead of sucking the young boy, she was being held upright by the muscular youth, held completely off the floor, with her back to his chest. Facing the head table with her legs spread wide to expose her hairless crotch, she was impaled and being violated from behind by piston- strokes of teenager's thick, glistening shaft.

Then, in a move that required a deft combination of strength and agility by both actors, the boy spun her leg up and over his head so that she was facing him in a standing fuck... his cock never ceasing its rhythm of fuck strokes deep inside her. Now holding her hips, the boy turned in a slow circle so the audience could view the undulating sexual tableau from all sides. Though the girl continued to act out a struggle, Salim noticed that her legs were wrapped around the boy's hips, and she was riding his cock every bit as much as he was fucking her.

The play-acted rape of the naked girl was watched closely by audience members who were themselves receiving intense erotic stimulation. Most were receiving slow, skillful blow jobs from their eunuch-boy servers. Then one of the guests directed his young serving-boy to stip naked and straddle the man's crotch... riding his cock in the manner that the dancing girl was being taken by the muscular youth. Several others followed suit, each bringing his server up from his knees to take a spit-slick erection up his ass.

As the music reached a dramatic crescendo, the girl suddenly reached out and slapped the boy violently across the face. The blow was real enough... the sound audible above the loud music. The boy fell backward dramatically, rolling acrobatically as the girl landed cleanly on her feet and scampered away... just beyond his grasp at her ankle. She ran off naked through the door at the rear of the room, as the three younger boys stage-laughed at their older friend's situation. He glowered, jumped, and pounced on the smallest boy -- the one who had gotten a brief suck from the girl -- pushing him to his knees to suck the thick man-cock that stood up from the teenager's crotch. As before, the other actors ostentatiously jacked their erections as they watched their young friend expertly take the thick, thrusting phallus deep into his throat.

Salim and Osman clung to each other, still fondling each other's cocks beneath the cover of loose clothing. But both were considerably distracted by the pornographic play unfolding before them.

"I think, Salim, that we have not seen the last of the girl," said the sultan. "The playwrights have already done several variations on this rape-and-revenge theme for my banquet entertainment."

But the court dramatists had thought up a twist that was as visually stunning as it was erotically pleasing. A new group emerged from the doors as the drummers beat out a military rhythm. There were five teenage girls, led by the naked dancer/rape-victim, with four others dressed in fanciful costumes of the mythical women-warriors known to the Greeks as Amazons. They wore gold breastplates that had been fashioned to simulate highly-defined stomach muscles and, because these were women- warriors, the prominent shape of naked young female breasts, complete with hard nipples. The rest of the costume duplicated that of ancient soldiers -- plumed helmet, pleated kilt, and gold shin guards. At each girl's waist was a short-sword in a leather scabbard.

All eyes focused on just one of the Amazons -- an extraordinarily tall and sturdy young woman with blond hair half-way down her back, even more ornately costumed than the others. Not as delicately beautiful as the other harem-girls, she had more the look of a hearty and reasonably attractive farm-girl. But it was her size that was so distinctive... over 6 feet tall, with powerful shoulders, muscular legs, and firm full breasts. As the group marched up to the dumfounded boys, she stood several inches taller than the older boy. A backhanded slap from this Amazon Queen sent the arrogant bully sprawling to the floor. She grabbed his hair and raised him to a kneeling position, then tucked up the hem of her skirt and pulled his face against her hairless crotch. Lifting a leg over his shoulder, she forced him to use his tongue on her sex as she held two fistfuls of his hair.

Meanwhile, the other Amazons had "captured" the three younger boys, making them kneel down submissively. The girls pulled back on the boys' hair and held swords to their exposed necks. With frightened expressions on their faces, the boys were forced (rather incongruously) to resume masturbating. The smallest boy had his face pushed against the crotch of the dancer... forced to orally pleasure her. As the drama reached it's climax, the boys' hands moved in rapid jerks on their adolescent cocks and they shot spurts of white semen in an orchestrated sequence of orgasms.

A particular tone in the accompanying music had signaled the talented young eunuch-boys to bring their oral tasks to an equally intense climax, and all around the room men were moaning as they were brought to crashing sexual release.

As the Amazon Queen pantomimed her own demonstrative orgasm and then pushed the youth roughly onto his back, the naked dancing- girl took a knife from the sultan's banquet table and grabbed the boy's genitals. Holding the blade aloft with a dramatic pause, she made a realistic-looking motion of cutting off his manly parts. The youth added to the drama by bringing his hands to his crotch and writhing on the floor, releasing a bunched swatch of crimson silk that he had cleverly concealed. The red material escaping his fingers gave the appearance of blood gushing out. Some of the startled onlookers were fooled for a moment, thinking the castration had been real.

As drum-beating martial music played again, the actors bowed to the sultan and departed. Hearty applause from the sultan and the others showed their appreciation of the erotic melodrama, and the servers hastened to fetch small cups of strong black coffee to conclude the meal.

"Salim, my love, allow me to bid my guests a good night. I will meet you soon in my bedchamber." And Osman kissed the boy deeply before getting up to greet the guests who were coming forward to pay him honor.

As Salim looked around, the eunuch-boys were now ignoring the men they had been serving. But the four consorts at the head table clung sensuously to the honored guests to whom they had been assigned. It was clear that these pairings would be continued in more private settings as the night wore on.

As Salim looked toward the door behind the head table, there stood Yusef, smiling. Salim walked quickly toward him.

"I watched you, Salim, and you did marvelously. It seems you remembered all that I told you, and you used your intuition like an experienced page. Did his majesty summon you to his bedchamber?"

The boy nodded. "He implied it would be soon."

"Then let me prepare you swiftly. Come, lad."

They made their way through the hallways back to Salim's room. Yusef instructed the boy to strip nude and lie on his back with his legs pulled back. The eunuch gently removed the butt plug, which Salim had almost forgotten about. The boy's anus was dilated as Yusef thoroughly cleaned the area within and around the hole with a soft damp cloth. The teenage eunuch then reached for a pottery jar. He stuck in two fingers and scooped out a glob of thick unguent, which he smeared inside Salim's anus. From a small container he dabbed some rouge on his fingertip and applied it to the puckered skin surrounding the place where the sultan's cock would likely soon be thrusting. An application of subtle perfume to Salim's hair completed the preparations.

Yusef held up a short robe of the smoothest silk for Salim to slip into, and he ran through a series of final instructions.

"Good luck, boy," he said at last; "though you seem to do quite well for yourself without having to resort to luck," he added with a grin.

Salim made his way to the adjacent room, wearing only a robe held at the front by a single button. It barely covering his crotch as he walked, and fully revealed his penis and balls if he so much as raised his arms. The sultan was not yet in the bedchamber, but two others were. A young boy and girl... two of the acrobats from the beginning of the banquet entertainment.

Salim entered so quietly that the youngsters did not hear him, and he could observe for 30 seconds or so an erotic sight that was mesmerizing. The boy was standing beside the sultan's enormous bed, and the girl was clinging to him... upside down, arms around his waist, her legs around his head, and mouth sliding up and down his immature erection. Her crotch was pressed to the boy's face, and his tongue was probing into the slit of her sex and tickling her little pleasure button. Then, in an acrobatic feat that was almost magical, the boy bent completely backwards and the position was reversed... the girl standing and the boy held upside down. Not once did their mouths stop pleasuring each other.

Then the girl noticed Salim's presence and let out a startled "Oh!" The young acrobats disentangled as Salim apologized in an embarrassed voice.

"Forgive my intrusion... but Yusef said I should...."

The other children giggled. "We were just practicing. And, anyway, you weren't intruding; you're supposed to be here. You're Salim, right?" asked the girl. Salim nodded and returned her smile. "I'm Jamilah, and this is my brother Jabril. We will also serve the sultan tonight!" she said excitedly. "It's been almost a month since the last time."

As Salim exchanged pleasantries with the 11-year-old fraternal twins, his eyes were drawn to their exquisite faces and the youthful beauty of their slender, supple bodies. They were at the very beginning of budding sexual development. Jamilah's breasts looked as though they had pushed up from her flat chest only in the past month or two. Jabril's still-erect penis stood up 3 inches and was nicely plump, with a compact ball-sack dangling below it.

They made their way through the hallways back to Salim's room. Yusef instructed the boy to strip nude and lie on his back with his legs pulled back. The eunuch gently removed the butt plug, which Salim had almost forgotten about. The boy's anus was dilated as Yusef thoroughly cleaned the area within and around the hole with a soft damp cloth. The teenage eunuch then reached for a pottery jar. He stuck in two fingers and scooped out a glob of thick unguent, which he smeared inside Salim's anus. From a small container he dabbed some rouge on his fingertip and applied it to the puckered skin surrounding the place where the sultan's cock would likely soon be thrusting. An application of subtle perfume to Salim's hair completed the preparations.

Yusef held up a short robe of the smoothest silk for Salim to slip into, and he ran through a series of final instructions.

"Good luck, boy," he said at last; "though you seem to do quite well for yourself without having to resort to luck," he added with a grin.

Salim made his way to the adjacent room, wearing only a robe held at the front by a single button. It barely covering his crotch as he walked, and fully revealed his penis and balls if he so much as raised his arms. The sultan was not yet in the bedchamber, but two others were. A young boy and girl... two of the acrobats from the beginning of the banquet entertainment.

Salim entered so quietly that the youngsters did not hear him, and he could observe for 30 seconds or so an erotic sight that was mesmerizing. The boy was standing beside the sultan's enormous bed, and the girl was clinging to him... upside down, arms around his waist, her legs around his head, and mouth sliding up and down his immature erection. Her crotch was pressed to the boy's face, and his tongue was probing into the slit of her sex and tickling her little pleasure button. Then, in an acrobatic feat that was almost magical, the boy bent completely backwards and the position was reversed... the girl standing and the boy held upside down. Not once did their mouths stop pleasuring each other.

Then the girl noticed Salim's presence and let out a startled "Oh!" The young acrobats disentangled as Salim apologized in an embarrassed voice.

"Forgive my intrusion... but Yusef said I should...."

The other children giggled. "We were just practicing. And, anyway, you weren't intruding; you're supposed to be here. You're Salim, right?" asked the girl. Salim nodded and returned her smile. "I'm Jamilah, and this is my brother Jabril. We will also serve the sultan tonight!" she said excitedly. "It's been almost a month since the last time."

As Salim exchanged pleasantries with the 11-year-old fraternal twins, his eyes were drawn to their exquisite faces and the youthful beauty of their slender, supple bodies. They were at the very beginning of budding sexual development. Jamilah's breasts looked as though they had pushed up from her flat chest only in the past month or two. Jabril's still-erect penis stood up 3 inches and was nicely plump, with a compact ball-sack dangling below it.

There was a knock, and the door cracked open an inch. "He's coming. Prepare yourselves," said the unseen person, and the door closed. The twins scurried to put on silk robes that matched Salim's in cut, and all three stood at attention beside the bed for two more minutes. Salim stood between the siblings, and he felt a rush of excitement as the door opened.

"Ah, good! You're all here," said Osman as he entered and then closed the door behind himself. The three children bowed deeply. "Rise up, for goodness sake!... Salim, my love; what do you think of my young acrobats? Wasn't that a fine performance this evening? You two have learned some new maneuvers since the last time you entertained. Perhaps you've learned some new bedroom maneuvers too, eh?"

"You know that we will do everything in our power to please you, sire," said Jabril with a grin as he moved forward to undress the sultan.

"This night's banquet entertainment certainly stoked my lust. It would not surprise me if each of you receives the gift of my seed before I sleep tonight," said Osman as the robe was lifted from his shoulders. After kicking off his slippers, he was completely naked. The sultan was justifiably proud of his handsome adolescent body, which had a wiry musculature and glowed with an all-over tan from sunbathing in his palace gardens. Tufts of dark hair sprouted from his armpits and at the base of his cock, and his chest and biceps showed a youthful strength that came from exercise and frequent bow-hunting. His light-brown cock hung soft, just over 3 inches, but it would not remain soft for long.

"Stand here for a moment, young ones, and let me admire your beauty."

Salim, Jamilah, and Jabril stood in a line beside the enormous 12-foot-square bed as Osman's gleaming eyes shifted from one to the other. The sultan came first to Jamilah, unbuttoning her short robe and sliding his hands beneath it. His fingers caressed the smooth skin of her neck and shoulders, then down to the puffy nipples on her barely perceptible breasts. The nipples hardened at his touch, and he leaned down to take one, then the other, between his lips. Then Osman gently lifted the robe from her shoulders and let it slide down her arms to the floor. She stood passively as he explored her naked body... not reaching out to him. But the look on her face was one pleasure, desire, and total acquiescence. He kissed her lips and took her in his arms. Only then did she truly respond, wrapping her arms around his neck and rubbing against his body like a friendly cat... skin against naked skin, adolescent male chest against pre-adolescent budding breasts, stiffening cock against silky smooth mound.

Then he released her and moved on to Jabril and repeated the disrobing, tenderly fondling the boy's body, kissing his lips, wrapping him in hugging arms. Like his sister, Jabril accepted the attention with respectful passivity. Everyone in the room knew that the three youngsters had but one task -- to serve the sultan's pleasure to the best of their abilities.

When Osman moved at last to Salim, the younger boy felt his penis rising up to erection without being touched or even exposed, grazing the smooth silk of his robe. When the sultan's fingers unfastened the button and parted the front of the garment, his eyes scanned down from Salim's face, along his boyish torso, and his gaze lingered at the boy's crotch.

"Salim... you are truly a magnificent jewel."

"I love you, Osman.... I love you so much!" said the lad in a tender voice. He could not have chosen better words for the moment.

"Oh, my lover... my precious one...." Osman hugged the boy so tightly that Salim was lifted off his feet. Their mouths crushed together as their tongues met in a wet exchange; their different- sized erections rubbed against each other urgently. Then they tumbled onto the bed, their bodies slowly rolling as they traded off being atop. The twins looked on in curious amusement, their fingers casually fondling their own genitals as they watched the erotic display.

"Jamilah... Jabril... come join us," said the sultan as he paused momentarily from his activities with Salim. "Come lie on each side of me and pleasure yourselves in that remarkable posture that you showed to me the last time you came to my bed."

As the giggling 11-year-old twins scrambled onto the bed, Osman sat back against a mound of cushions and positioned Salim to sit between his spread legs. With the boy's back against his chest, the sultan wrapped his arms around Salim's body, fondling his stiff 4-inch penis and nuzzling his neck and ear.

"Mmmmm.... You smell so wonderful, my pet," whispered the sultan. "Now... watch this, Salim! I'll wager you've never seen a boy suck his own cock before... or a girl tongue her own sex-slit." As his stiff erection pressed against his favorite boy's back, the sultan murmured: "Yes; we shall have a glorious evening of pleasures tonight."