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Bill aka StoryguyThe Sultan's Favorite BoyChapter 6Sultan Osman II, the 14-year-old ruler of the Ottoman Empire, wrapped his arms around Salim and playfully fondled the lad's immature erection. Salim, who earlier that day had been designated the sultan's new "favorite boy", sat on a huge bed between Osman's spread legs, reclining back against his chest. Feeling the teenager's 6-inch cock pressing against the small of his back, Salim shuddered with growing sexual arousal as the sultan gently manipulated his infidel foreskin."Watch how these two contortionists perform, my love!" whispered the sultan into Salim's ear. "I'll wager you've never seen a boy suck his own cock before... or a girl lap her tongue along the slit of her own sex." He was referring to the 11-year-old fraternal twins -- Jamilah and Jabril -- who were preparing to entertain the young sultan and his beautiful Balkan slaveboy. Nuzzling his face against the back of Salim's neck, the sultan inhaled the subtle perfume in Salim's blond hair and kissed him behind the ear. Then Osman reached back and pulled on a thick velvet sash that hung along the wall. It made no sound, but in a few seconds a eunuch servant, a Nubian with coal-black skin, opened the door. His hand was on the scimitar at his belt, ready to either defend his master with violence or obediently serve the most mundane request. He took no apparent notice of the sexual activity in the room as he dispassionately awaited his orders. "Bring some hashish, Aswad," murmured Osman. The servant left, but reappeared almost instantly with an already-lit water pipe which he set beside the bed, then left the room as quickly as he had arrived. Osman took the long hose and sucked deeply on the wooden mouth piece. The mound of crumbled hemp resin glowed atop a small nest of finely-chopped tobacco. After a period of holding his breath, the sultan exhaled a thick cloud above Salim's head. "Have you ever smoked the fruit of the kiff plant, my pet?" murmured Osman. "No, Osman," replied the boy. (The favorite boy, alone in all the royal court, addressed the sultan by his given name.) "I'll teach you sometime... but not tonight. Now, watch this." The beautiful dusky-skinned young twins -- natives of the province of Palestine -- had positioned themselves on the sultan's enormous bed, on each side of Osman's and Salim's outstretched legs. The 11-year-olds quickly twisted their bodies in seemingly impossible contortions, bringing their legs back... and back farther... and then back even more. So flexible were the young gymnasts that they actually tucked their feet behind their shoulder blades, soles touching. Their torsos curled forward until their mouths made contact with their crotches. Jabril began devouring his pudgy little circumcised penis with lusty enthusiasm, rocking his body in a rhythm that caused his mouth to slide down the base of the stiff shaft and back up again. Jamilah kept her body essentially motionless, languidly tonguing her little pink pleasure button. Then, perhaps through a signal hidden among gentle sighs and moans, both children curled their bodies tighter at the same moment. Jamilah was now licking along the length of her slit as the small pink lips on each side of her exposed sex became swollen, glistening in the lamplight. Jabril began licking and suckling his boyishly small ball-sack. All the while, both looked up into Osman's and Salim's faces. The twins' dark eyes burned with an eroticism that took Salim's breath away. Looking from side to side, Salim could not tell which aroused him more, the beautiful boy with a cock that he would love to take in his mouth... or the equally beautiful girl whose feminine mysteries he lacked the experience to fully evaluate. And then, again moving simultaneously, the two lithe bodies twisted even tighter. The twins pulled on their ass cheeks with their hands to wind their bodies as tight as watch springs, and now their tongues were lapping at their puckered anal openings. "What say we join in the fun," said Osman after he had taken a final puff on the hookah and given a few more gentle masturbation strokes to Salim's exquisitely-formed 4-inch erection. "Lie on your back between them, Salim, and I shall sample the charms of all three of you." The boy lay down between the twins and brought his legs back as far as they would go. Salim could not twist his legs as the acrobats had done, but he too had a slender and flexible body. He placed his arms between his legs, his elbows pushing against the backs of his thighs, until the knees were touching the bed on either side of his body. Osman quickly arranged the youngsters' bodies to his liking, so that the buttocks of all three youngsters now touched in a tight arch, with Osman kneeling at the center of the lewd array of sexually-aroused genitals. The sultan was clearly delighted with his own resourcefulness as his mouth descended to begin an ever-changing swirl of licking and sucking... switching from pleasuring Jamilah's girl-slit to blowing Salim's or Jabril's cock, or sucking on the boys' balls. He flitted from one to the other every 10 seconds or so, with only the slight movement of his head. This playful activity addressed two of his favorite desires -- exploring the sexual delights of beautiful youths on the cusp of adolescence, and using his mouth on the sexual parts of those in his bed. Osman's fingers busied themselves too, sliding into the girl's moist sex or caressing with the nipples rising from her almost-flat chest, playing with the boys' delicate balls, caressing their baby- smooth ass cheeks. Gradually, though, his attentions focused ever more on Salim. Osman delighted in toying with the boy's foreskin, flesh that was taboo to the Muslim faith and all-too-soon would be removed. Pulling it with his fingers, nibbling it with soft lips, lavishing aggressive attentions with his tongue, the sultan indulged in the unholy pleasures of an uncut infidel cock. And then he raised his head up, pushed Salim's legs back even more, and gazed at his nether-hole. The boy's anus, upraised in prominent display, had been lightly rouged by Salim's eunuch attendant, Yusef. "How like a pink rosebud it is... how like a tiny mouth with pursed red lips, eager to be kissed!" Osman lowered his mouth to the orifice, and it flexed open at the touch of his tongue. The stout ivory butt-plug that Salim had worn throughout the evening banquet, removed by Yusef less than 20 minutes ago, had stretched the opening and now allowed remarkable muscle control. The drug-intoxicated sultan languidly probed and lapped at the pliant circle of muscle, tasting the subtle essence of the boy's freshly-washed body. Salim squirmed and tensed and shuddered beneath the gentle assault, as the stimulation of his anal nerves sent shocks of pleasure through his body. "Oh, sire!" he gasped; "your caresses make my entire body sing!" The sultan's stopped his burrowing and raised up his head and smiled. "Ah, my beautiful one... then let us have our bodies sing together. It will be like the harmony of heaven's angels. My cock is eager for entry to your pleasure hole. Jamilah... Jabril. Anoint us for lovemaking." And then in a slightly louder voice: "Musicians... music!" Salim was only a little surprised when gentle music started up immediately. In an adjacent room sat three unseen musicians, playing a hand-drum, and high-pitched woodwind, and a bowed string instrument. The sensual tune drifted in through an opening in the wall filled with highly detailed lattice-work of gilded wood. The twins unwound their bodies and bounced up with the limber energy of acrobats. As Jamilah slathered warm oil over Osman's straining erection, Jabril worked two oiled fingers deep into Salim's hole and spread more lubrication around the outside. Then the sultan positioned himself above Salim's doubled-back body, his hands resting on the back's of the lad's thighs. Jamilah's small hand slid between their bodies and guided Osman's adolescent cock to its target. Though it was often Osman's habit to give free reign to his adolescent lust, plunging immediately to the hilt and fucking his sex-partner hard and fast to a quick orgasm, this time he was exceedingly patient. Salim would have been able to tolerate savage thrusting; two hours of wearing the butt plug - and the ministrations of a probing tongue and two twisting fingers - had prepared the boy to be fucked with however much vigor the sultan wished to exert. But with Osman's senses alive from the effects of the hashish, the teenager was more interested in savoring the marvelous pleasures of slow entry... his brain separately registering the pleasure-burst from every nerve on his throbbing cock-head as it crept, a millimeter at a time, into his favorite boy's upraised ass. As his anus opened to the slow-motion penetration of Osman's cock, Salim could barely contain the building tension in his body. He longed to shout out for his master to go faster... to thrust firmly and begin the dance of love. Salim had been a virgin until Osman had taken him gently in the garden that very afternoon, but the boy was eager to once again experience the pleasures of anal sex. He wanted his body filled by Osman's slender 6-inch rod of hot flesh... wanted to be under the loving control of the strong and handsome adolescent sultan... wanted to feel the warm slippery cock move back and forth through his wonderfully sensitive anal channel. Though it was barely longer than a minute until Osman's pubic hair was pressing against the skin beneath Salim's balls, it seemed for both of them to last far longer... a mini-lifetime of exquisite, expectant pleasure as the teenager's cock fully penetrated the boy's ass. Jamilah had removed her hand from the sultan's phallus as soon as the head had disappeared, and was now reaching behind to gently fondle his scrotum. Her brother, meanwhile, was slowly running his fingernails very lightly over Osman's flanks and buttocks and back... sparking to new heights his drug-enhanced nervous system. Osman began moving his hips in a rhythm of luscious fuck-strokes, slowed by the intoxication from the hashish and feeling the waves of eroticism flow over him like a warm breeze. He closed his eyes and let his mind create swirling patterns of light and color behind his eyelids. And then he opened his eyes and looked down at Salim's lovely face, staring deeply into the boy's blue eyes. The sight of Salim's beauty made Osman's hips move faster, and the in-and-out thrusts of his slippery cock were now motivated by a growing urgency. "I have in my harem the Empire's most desirable youths," he said, through increasingly-ragged breathing; "but none compares to you, my love. I could gaze on your visage for all of time, my dearest Salim, and never tire of my eyes' feast." "Oh, sire!" gasped Salim, as his hands caressed the sultan's smooth face and hairless chest. "Take me, Osman... I am yours forever... I love you!" he murmured with heart-felt emotion. And as his passion quickly grew along with the pace of the cock moving within him, Salim moaned with urgent lust: "Oh, yes!... Oh, Osman!... Give your seed, master!... Yes!... Fuck me hard!" The sultan's arms enveloped the boy, and he kissed Salim's mouth with ravenous hunger. As Salim's legs wrapped around his master's flexing thighs, the boy kissed back with equal passion, plunging his tongue into Osman's mouth, savoring his taste. Again and again the glistening oiled erection thrust savagely into the boy, gaining even more speed and force, accompanied by louder and more impassioned moans of pleasure. Salim's feet pulled at his master's hips, urging him to plunge deeper. His anal muscle clenched around the hot pole of flesh, squeezing it tightly as it plunged back and forth. The musicians played with more spirt as well, matching their volume and tempo to the sexual activity. The naked twins kept up their attentions... squeezing Osman's ball-sack even more firmly... tickling his anal flesh (but careful never to penetrate him with their fingers)... nipping playfully at his straining flanks with their teeth... slipping their hot little tongues into his ears. "Ah... AH!... AHHHH!!" With fast-pounding strokes, Osman's lust finally peaked and crashed down in body-shattering orgasm. He buried his cock deep in Salim's bowels and held it there as cum pumped out in glorious spurts, every last drop drawn out by the contractions of Salim's anal muscles. But this climax was only the beginning of the night's pleasures. Osman had no intention of stopping at just one orgasm... nor had he tired of using his mouth on the bodies of his three beautiful sex-slaves. Before sleep overcame the master, hours later, his cum had flowed thrice more -- into Jamilah's moist girl-sex, into Jabril's rectum, and into Salim's increasingly talented mouth. The prepubescence of the two younger boys kept their immature cocks stiff, and allowed them to experience their less-intense orgasms time after time through the night. Salim lost count of how often these wonderful feeling visited his loins... brought on by sucking mouths and stroking hands... by fucking Jabril's cute boyish ass... by his very first experience of thrusting his eager erection into a girl's warm slippery sex as he sucked the plump nipples that stood up prominently on Jamillah's flat chest. The intervals during which the sultan's pubescent loins recharged provided the Hebrew twins a full opportunity to display their skill at combining acrobatics with sexuality. As Osman and Salim lay in each other's arms and watched, the young boy and his sister bent and slithered into positions that seemed almost impossible. Sometimes lying or kneeling atop the large bed, sometimes standing on the floor at it's foot, they provided a wonderful display pornographic athleticism. The slender 11-year- olds again locked their bodies into the "standing 69" that Salim viewed briefly when he had entered the bedchamber. They showed the remarkable ability to switch positions -- from Jamilah standing to Jabril standing -- without removing their mouths from each other's genitals. And as he snuggled in Osman's arms, Salim watched with breathless interest at the coupling of Jabril's plump 3-inch erection and Jamilah's hairless sex in a mind- boggling variety of positions, each transition choreographed as if in a ballet. Watching the girl being penetrated from behind by her brother, in the style of dogs coupling, Osman said "Salim, my angel... it would please me to take your cock into my nether-hole." Salim grinned excitedly. He had eagerly fucked the two boys who accompanied him on the recent week-long voyage from the Balkans, and he was glad to learn that Osman enjoyed this sport. What he did not anticipate was the sultan's next remark. "You should know, Salim, that this is an act in which I have never before indulged. The Grand Vizier has always told me that protocol doesn't allow the sultan to be taken thus. But I desire it, so I shall do it... and the Vizier be damned. Now, use your tongue on me for a while... and plenty of oil on your cock.... Ah, what excitement! I've been imagining this for weeks!" Osman has been the "top" in countless couplings. Indeed, he had fucked nearly every one of his 100 page-boys and knew exactly how he wanted his own deflowering to proceed. The 14-year-old lay face-down on the bed, with a good view of the twins' ongoing activities. He placed a thick firm cushion underneath his hips to elevate his ass and splaying his legs out. Salim spread apart Osman's firm, smooth ass-cheeks with his hands and pressed his tongue onto the exposed hole. Osman had received this particular pleasure numerous times, and he purred with delight as Salim's tongue burrowed into the puckered hole. After several minutes of oral pleasuring, Osman directed Salim to lube his stiff penis and begin the lovemaking ritual. The boy dipped his fingers into the bowl of oil that was heated above a flame at the bedside. He coated his boyish erection and soothed more oil generously around the sultan's clenched anal muscle. Salim had lost his own anal virginity less than 12 hours prior... although he had become well-accustomed to the erotic probing of other boys' fingers during his voyage through the Mediterranean and Aegean Seas. But no finger had ever penetrated the sultan other than his own, and Salim realized that he should proceed slowly. "I'm ready for it, Salim. Make love to me." The blond page-boy knelt behind the sultan's upraised ass and positioned himself. As his hips eased forward gently, Salim realized that Osman was tighter than any of the boys he had fucked -- Jabril only half an hour before, the gypsy-boy Kamal, and a 10-year-old Turkish servant named Hussein. But all three of those boys were well-accustomed at giving pleasure to men, while Osman was experiencing this for the first time. When the slender head of Salim's boy-cock slowly eased into the clenched circle of muscle, Osman moaned as the intensely pleasurable sensation radiated from the bundle of charged nerves. "Yes, my love! Slide it in me all the way!... Ahh, yes! Like that! Now fuck me!... Oh, yes! Do it faster!... Mmmm... Now fuck me hard... Yes! Do it!" Any thoughts of a slow and gentle fuck evaporated with the sultan's demands. Salim's cock, barely longer than man's middle finger, was racing in and out of Osman's tight anal passage as he held tightly onto the teenager's hip bones. The delighted sultan grunted with satisfaction at the taboo pleasure of being on the bottom of a vigorous fuck... playing at being submissive for the first time. It was every bit as erotic he had fantasized, and when Salim squealed with pleasure at the cresting of his dry orgasm, Osman knew that he would revisit this game often. And the orgy went on, long into the night. The four participants assembled into various combinations of two, three, and four... positions that Salim could never have imagined in his most erotic fantasies. So drunk with satiated lust was the beautiful Balkan boy that he couldn't even remember falling asleep in Osman's embrace, with the twins snuggling next to them. When he was nudged awake by Yusef, Salim was alone, lying naked atop the sultan's bed. Dawn was just breaking. "Wake up, young one. I need to prepare you for the surgeon. I have the pain-dulling drug in two forms... these, which you will swallow, and there on the table is a portion to be smoked. It will dull the pain of the knife and the discomfort that follows." "Knife? What?" "Your circumcision, Salim. The physician will remove the foreskin from your penis, so you will be clean in the eyes of Allah." The pudgy teenage eunuch held out five small sugar-coated nuggets, the size of pebbles. "Swallow these without chewing. It is a drug called opium, from the poppies of the Anatolian hills. It is very bitter, but it will put you in a dream-world where there will be no discomfort. After I wash you, you will smoke a mixture of the same opium and the finest hashish from the Bekaa Valley. Then you will be ready." Salim took the soft pills, one by one, swallowed down with sweet fruit juice that Yusef offered. Yusef brought a bowl of warm water and a soft cotton cloth and began to gently wash Salim's body. He took hold of Salim's penis, which stood up in its usual morning erection, and carefully pulled down the loose skin and dabbed around the glans. "They will truly cut me there?" asked the young boy. "I am ashamed to admit it, Yusef, but I am terribly fearful of this thing... this circumcision." "Who would NOT fear such a thing! But it is the law of Allah and the will of His Majesty that it occur." The eunuch paused from his washing and looked down at the beautifully proportioned erection. Though the sight had no sexual effect on Yusef, he graciously said to the boy "Shall I pleasure you with my mouth... before you are changed by the knife? You'll not be able to receive stimulation to your member for at least a week afterward, so that it may heal." "You would do this, Yusef? I thought you said yesterday...." "I said that erotic service is no longer among my duties, but I offer it to you in friendship. I've only rarely sucked a man or boy in the past two years," said the 16-year-old; "but I was rather talented at the various techniques in earlier times. Pleasing men's cocks with my mouth was one of my primary duties, in fact... performed several times a day when I was your age." "I shall gratefully accept your offer. It will distract my mind from these fears. The robed eunuch knelt at the bedside and lowered his mouth to Salim's youthful penis. As soon as Salim felt the flicking tongue and sucking lips on his cock, the young Balkan boy knew that his attendant was indeed a marvelous expert in the oral skills. Yusef's bobbing and twisting mouth played a tune of carnal pleasure unlike anything Salim had ever experienced. By the time Salim was finally brought to the release of orgasm, he was exhausted. And not only that... a strange feeling was beginning to overtake his senses. Yusef casually stood up and prepared a small water-pipe, already loaded with the hashish and opium mixture. Salim violently coughed up the first lung-full, but soon became adept at holding the smoke. The effects were nearly instant and increased with each draw on the pipe. As Salim was sinking deeper into a drugged state, the surgeon and an assistant quietly entered the room. Meanwhile.... Osman used all his strength to string the long, heavy bow. It was a new one... ornate and extraordinarily powerful, just as he had ordered. Beside him, carrying a quiver of steel-tipped arrows, was a page named Anwar -- a delicately handsome Egyptian of 13 years. "The page-master has explained your duties, Anwar? You'll not go squeamish on me, will you? Usually I am assisted in archery practice by my favorite boy, but he is indisposed. I have no doubt you will serve me well." "Yes sire. I am ready as always to do your bidding in any manner." The boy was one of the 10 first-rank pages who were frequent personal attendants to the sultan, whether the activity be social, athletic, or sexual. The two walked down the wooded path on the grounds of the summer palace as the sun rose on a balmy Fall day. Each bend in the trail brought them to a new archery target -- a naked young man, shaved of body hair, his muscles and loins oiled, tied securely to a tree by his wrists and ankles. The sultan had a streak of casual, egocentric cruelty... a product, perhaps, of attaining absolute power at so young an age. Several months before, he had wearied of shooting arrows at painted circles on canvass, and had directed his attendants to provide living targets one day each week. They of course obeyed without question, and selected prisoners of war and common criminals that were specimens of masculine beauty. The targets had gags in their mouths to keep them from crying out. But they were not blindfolded, and most cringed and squirmed in abject terror as Osman calmly took aim and sent an arrow racing to the man's head or neck or chest. So good was his aim... and so strong his bow... that he delivered an accurate kill-shot each time. When Osman and Anwar came to a man who stood up straight and still, with defiance glowing in his eyes, the sultan paused. "Anwar... see how this one is unafraid. Such bravery deserves a reward. And he is most pleasing to the eye as well, don't you think?" "Yes, sire. Handsome and quite virile. His cock is of remarkable size, even in repose!" "I wonder what how tall it stands when it's hard.... Go to him and give him a good suck, boy. Display his phallus to me when you have stiffened it, and then proceed with bringing him to climax. Do it quickly... not one of those drawn-out affairs that you do so well when you come to my bed. When his seed begins to spurt, signal with your hand, and I shall take my shot. What better way for a man to depart this world, eh?" The boy trotted across the lawn to the naked and bound man, sank to his knees, and proceeded to carry out his master's orders to the letter, absolutely confident that the arrow's path would be true as it passed over his head, the moment he held his hand out to the side. When there was only one arrow in the quiver, and one more bend in the path, Osman knew what awaited.... Nassim, the beautiful Persian boy... less than 24 hours previously, he had been Salim's predecessor as "favorite". And now he was tied naked to a tree. Anwar tried to suppress his surprised horror as he approached the helpless boy, walking a few paces behind Osman. Nassim had obviously been crying, and two trails of snot ran down from his nostrils. The sultan started to remove the gag from the 13-year- old's mouth, but decided otherwise. He took a cloth and wiped the lad's nose, and gently kissed Nassim's tear-stained cheek. "My radiant Nassim. I hope you understand why I do this. You would never be able to live with the jealousy of being replaced as my favorite. I had once thought that there could be no boy as beautiful as you, but I have found one. Ah, but you are a close second in beauty, and you will go to paradise as Allah's most beautiful angel." As he spoke, Osman's hands stroked the boy's thick black hair and smooth body. Then he began fondling Nassim's cock, making it erect despite the boy's fear. The sultan licked at the tears rolling down the lad's elegant tan face and then knelt down in front of him. "One more time, my darling, I'll take you in my mouth. And I'll carry with me forever the memory of how pretty your cock is... and how delicious your seed is on my tongue." Osman's mouth enveloped the slender purple head of the barely- adolescent cock, and his tongue swirled around it. Then the sultan's lips slid all the way down 5-inch stalk, and his throat hummed with satisfaction at this familiar act of intimacy with the boy who had shared his bed for the past 3 months. When at last Nassim's sweet boy-cum spurted into Osman's mouth, the sultan savored the taste for a minute before swallowing and rising to his feet. "It's only been a few weeks since your seed began to flow. I'm so glad you were able to experience that milestone, my love.... Come, Anwar. Let's get this over with." Osman stepped off 40 paces and turned. He took the last arrow from Anwar, seated it in the bowstring, and pulled back with all the strength in his arm. Meanwhile... Salim was imagining himself floating atop a fluffy cloud. The images behind his closed eyelids were of gently flowing colors, and his whole body felt an overwhelming euphoria. Then, off in the distance, he observed a dark cloud forming. Far-away lightening flashed, and distant thunder rumbled. It did nothing to disturb Salim's languid dream-state, and indeed added an interesting new dimension. Salim didn't seem to be conscious of the surgeon pulling on his foreskin... and the quick cuts with a razor-sharp scalpel didn't even make him flinch. In a minute, the wound was dressed with a healing salve and bandaging, and the procedure was complete. Salim rested in his room through the day, lost in sleep or drifting in dazed half-sleep. The sultan chose not to wake him for the evening banquet, selecting a vivacious young page-boy as his attendant during the meal and for the entertainment that followed. When he returned to his quarters, Osman looked in on Salim, whose bedroom adjoined the sultan's. "You're looking much more alive, my precious one," said the sultan with a grin. "Yes, Osman; and feeling so too." "Are you in pain?" "No, Sire; though it feels strange to have my member wrapped in gauze." "I'll not disturb you further, Salim, but I invite you to watch through the viewing panel between our two rooms if you wish to be entertained. I've invited some dancers from this evening's banquet, and I have that cute little page named Hadi for my bed companion... do you know him?" "No, Sire; I don't.... But it would please you if I watched?" "Most definitely, Salim! Though protocol demands my discretion during the public banquets, I am not very modest when it comes to the pleasures of my bedchamber." The understatement in this remark would become increasingly clear to Salim over time. In a few minutes, as Salim sat down before the peep-hole that provided a full view into Osman's large and ornate bedchamber, he saw Hadi, a naked 10-year-old pixie, snuggling on the bed with the equally nude sultan as soft music played. The music's tempo picked up as soon as two young dancing girls entered the room, moving with the easy smoothness of cats. They wore baggy harem pants of black satin; their hair and upper bodies were shrouded in layers of the sheerest silk, and their eyes blazed out above silken face-veils... eyes that appeared at once aloof, mysterious, and intensely sensual... outlined in black and shaded with purple. The two dancers were similar in appearance, though not so similar as to be sisters, thought Salim. There was something about one of them that was naggingly familiar... perhaps he would recognize her when she was more fully revealed Their dance at the bedside was one of blatant feminine eroticism, as their slender bodies gyrated and they caressed themselves and each other without shame. Osman's eyes were fixed to the two as they moved provocatively, and he was utterly aroused. He motioned for Hadi to suck him, and the boy instantly obeyed, taking the sultan's stiff cock deep into his small mouth and moving up and down the shaft with well-practiced skill. Gradually throughout the dance the near-transparent silk veils that covered the girls' heads, arms, shoulders, and chests were removed and cast aside. Salim noted that while the girls were a bit taller than he, and their bodies had the leanness of young adolescence, both were totally flat-chested... though their nipples were rouged a deep red. Salim knew that the sultan preferred his harem girls to have small breasts, and Salim himself found the image of the flat-chested adolescent girls to be quite arousing. When they were wearing only face veils and harem pants, the girls danced even more erotically... every movement dripping with blatant seduction. Their dark shoulder-length hair sparkled with flecks of gold that glittered in the mellow glow of the room's half-dozen oil lamps. One stood directly behind the other, both of them gyrating sensuously to the music, and the girl in back slid her hands inside the waistband of her partner's pants. Then she slowly pushed them down, revealing.... Salim gasped.... a rigid erection stood up from the dancer's crotch, and adolescent balls dangled below it. NOW he recognized the dancer.... It was Kamal, the beautiful gypsy-boy who had accompanied Salim on the sea voyage from Dubrovnik; the boy whose bed Salim had shared nearly every night of the week-long voyage. Most every erotic skill Salim now possessed had been learned from Kamal. The gypsy was a perfect instructor, as he had supported his family for several years as a well-paid prostitute in the tavern lodging rooms throughout the city of Mostar. "Kamal... Abdel... come onto the bed and let us invent new pleasures!" said Osman exuberantly. In a moment, both dancers' pants and face-veils had been shed, and they lay naked on either side of the sultan and the little 10-year-old. Salim was not at all surprised to see that the other dancer was a boy too... like Kamal a slender 13-year-old with a half-mature cock. And like Kamal, Abdel was an extraordinary specimen of effeminate beauty, his lips glowing red with rouge, his eyes as alluring as any young woman's. Each dancer's penis was fully erect. Kamal's pubic mound had been plucked of hair by his pimping father ever since it first began to sprout months before, and the gypsy boy's perfect adolescent cock looked sinfully erotic standing up at his bald crotch. Salim felt a stab of pain as his own wounded penis attempted to stiffen within its dressings. He turned away from the viewing slot, wincing at the throbbing discomfort and frustrated by his desire to participate in the orgy that was beginning. Salim's crush on the handsome young sultan, and his lust for Kamal's familiar charms, made it impossible to continue watching. Yusef had left some hashish and a small pipe at the bedside. Salim picked up a long splinter of sandalwood, lit it from the lamp flame, and combusted the smoking drug. Within moments after sucking the smoke into his lungs, he was floating in peaceful unreality, drifting in a world where no pain or jealous thought intruded. A while later, he returned to the peep-hole in the wall. There was Kamal, knees on either side of the sultan's hips, riding Osman's cock with all his professional skill. Hadi was straddling the sultan right in front of Kamal, his crotch in Osman's face as the teenager suckled the boy's thumb-sized cock and then shifted the lad's body to ream his pink asshole. Abdel knelt to the side, his lips alternating between Kamal, Hadi, and Osman... his circumcised penis being fondled by his master. Salim's cock throbbed again with pain, and once more he turned away from the source of his arousal. He smoke some more and lay back in his bed, sending his mind to other places.
Chapter 7In the days that followed his circumcision, Salim was with the sultan frequently, though not in his bed at night. He had begun his duties as "Favorite Boy", accompanying the 14-year-old sultan at various times throughout the day. They went on hunts in the nearby forests, took meals together, and had long periods of leisure-time in the magnificent gardens of the imperial summer palace at Bursa.Every day, as they lay on the manicured lawn among the flowers and pools, Salim would sing for his master, drawing on his repertoire of Bosnian folk songs. Osman in turn recited poetry in Arabic and Turkish. They kissed often and whispered words of tender love to each other. The sultan fancied himself a poet, and he sometimes composed verse on the spot, while gazing into Salim's sky-blue eyes. It made Salim swell with pride to hear the likes of this: "Soon as I beheld you, amazed and full grew my empty heart. How shall I disclose to you the love that burns in my soul? How shall I hold straight upon my road, when yonder torment Has smitten my breast with deadly wounds by your eyelash dart? Face, a rose; and mouth, a rosebud; form, a slender sapling... How shall I not be the slave of a Prince such as thou art? Ne'er hath heart a beauty seen like your graceful figure; Joyous will I be to taste the insistent flesh of your loins. Salim, what can I do but love your peerless beauty? Ah! this aged Sphere hath made me lover of a flawless boy." [Author's note: This is only slightly modified from a poem, translated from Turkish, that the teenage sultan, Osman II, actually wrote in the early 1600s.] The sultan was careful not to touch Salim's sore penis during its recuperation, and had been advised by the physician to refrain as well from fucking the boy's bottom during this recovery period. But Osman had no qualms about instructing his Favorite to provide oral service. The sultan had never been reticent about expecting sexual release whenever desire stiffened his cock. Whichever page-boy or harem- girl had been in Osman's bed when he awoke typically received a mouthful of the sultan's youthful semen as a preliminary to breakfast. And it was a rare day when the virile young adolescent had fewer than five orgasms by the time he drifted to sleep at night. When Osman made it a game (as he frequently did), there might be 10 climaxes in a day's time... each with a different partner if it suited his whim. Salim had an intuitive sense of what pleased Osman, and his oral technique improved daily. The sultan never failed to be supremely aroused by the sight of the Balkan boy's exquisite face, and Salim might find himself on his knees with the Osman's cock in his mouth at any time of the morning or afternoon... and at any place in or around the Summer Palace. Though Salim sometimes winced with pain when his own wounded member began to stiffen during these times, he always worked diligently at pleasuring Osman, motivated by a mixture of heart-felt love and utter loyalty to his master. While Salim did not share his master's bed, he was at his side at the evening banquets... feeding him morsels of food, whispering quips and endearments, giggling at the sultan's jokes, sometimes singing for the assembled dignitaries, often discreetly fondling the sultan's ever-horny cock through a fold in the front of his silk robe. The entertainments that accompanied the banquets -- acrobats, singers, dancers, athletic competitions, melodramas -- sometimes gave a hint of the theme for the activities that would ensue later that night in the sultan's bedchamber. One night's banquet, for example, featured 10 pairs of page-boys, naked and glistening with oil, engaging full-strength in wrestling matches on the ornate rugs in the center of the banquet hall. They came out one pair at a time, starting with the youngest boys, in a show that lasted an hour. Though the matches only lasted a few minutes, the winner of each bout would immediately be rewarded for his wrestling prowess by sexual service from the defeated opponent... a submissive ass offered up to be fucked, or a willing mouth to suck the winner's sweaty oiled cock. The sultan and his roomful of banquet guests were as attentive in watching the assorted and well-choreographed sexual couplings as they had been to the wrestling matches that preceded. And that night, Salim was joined by two pairs of the boys -- two of them 11-year- old pre-pubescent lads and two adolescents of the sultan's age. The sultan's naked body was oiled up as well, and all five engaged in slippery rough-housing... and intense sexuality... atop Osman's oversized bed. Salim, in the adjacent room, watched through a peep-hole in the wall. It pleased the sultan to know that his Favorite was observing these erotic activities... and perhaps learning new techniques. Another night, a particularly beautiful 14-year-old harem girl danced for the pleasure of the sultan and his guests, and she alone came back to the bedchamber to dance naked and please Osman with her considerable erotic skills. Salim's education in sexuality was as well-served by observing such one-on-one activity as it was in peeping at the orgies. And when two girls came to Osman's bed on a subsequent night, the education was taken yet another step forward. Salim observed for the first time how a girl could strap an artificial phallus to her hips and use it to make love, just as if she were a boy. It was intensely erotic to observe two girls fucking thus with a 6- inch shaft of carved wood, covered in soft goatskin leather. And then the sultan directed the girl wearing the dildo to penetrate HIM. As Salim watched in awe, the small-breasted harem-girl entered her master, as he lay on his back with his legs lifted high. The second girl expertly stroked Osman's cock and fondled his balls as the oiled dildo slid in and out, again and again, driving the sultan wild with lust until he finally spurted his cum into masturbating hands. There were periods of the day during which the sultan attended to the affairs of state, in the company of his Grand Vizier and other high officials. At these times, Salim was instructed by Yusef, his eunuch attendant and tutor. Salim worked hard at learning more of the Turkish language and committing to memory the customs of the imperial court. One day, after the physician had finally removed the bandage, Yusef was bathing Salim with warm water and a sponge, very carefully dabbing at Salim's rapidly healing penis. "The physician said you are nearly healed, Salim, and commented favorably about your recuperative powers. When he declares you fully-healed, Honored One, you will bathe each day with His Majesty in the hamam. You will enjoy it greatly, I think." "Hamam? What is that?" asked the blond-haired lad. "The 'Turkish bath', it is called in the European languages. Cleanliness is very important in our culture. Allah commands it, and civilized people would not think of going long between baths. In a few months time, it would repulse you to go back to the Bosnian village of your birth and smell the stench of unwashed infidel bodies! There is a small hamam in this wing of the palace for the use of His Majesty and a few companions. A much larger one is in the pages' wing, and the sultan stops by there sometimes in the afternoon to bathe and take pleasure with his page-boys.... Tell you what; I'll show it to you now. The pages are finishing their afternoon classes, and they always gather together as a group in the hamam. You needn't go in; we can observe unobtrusively." Salim was finally becoming accustomed to the fact that the walls of the palace "have eyes", and anyone could be secretly observed at any place or time. Because there was no privacy, modestly was virtually non-existent. After walking through a labyrinth of hallways and staircases, the two came to a narrow dark room with an intricate open latticework along one wall. Through the lattice shone light from the adjacent room, and warm humid air drifted in as well. The echoing sounds of boys' happy voices also flowed from the other side. When Salim looked through the large gaps in the swirling design that separated the rooms, his jaw dropped. "Oh!" gasped the lad. "Oh, my goodness!" he added a giggle. He saw that he was standing in a balcony, looking down onto a huge room lit by numerous chandeliers of oil-lamp flames. Ornate mosaic designs adorned the walls. Oriental rugs were spread out on several areas of stone floor, with divans and cushions on which to sit or recline. A very large bathing pool, far larger than any Salim had ever seen, was in the center of the room. And then there were the boys... Salim's eyes flitted from one to another. So many of them... so beautiful and varied in appearance... all of them naked! There were dozens and dozens milling about. More were entering the doors, hanging their clothing on hooks and mingling with the other boys, totally unashamed of their nudity. "How many...?" "There are 99 pages that the sultan brought with him on this visit to the Summer Palace. Counting you, it's 100. Another 100 remain back in Istanbul at Topkapi Palace... no doubt jealous of their more prestigious companions. They range in age from 10 to 16, though you'll note that most are between 12 and 14." In alcoves along the sides of the bathing room were alcoves where page-boys were having their bodies washed by bath attendants (referred to by Yusef as "tellaks") and then rinsed off under waterfalls flowing from high on the wall. The tellaks were young eunuch boys, even younger than the pages, and clad in only the briefest of white loincloths to cover their emasculated genitals. With cloth mittens on their hands, the tellaks soaped the page- boys from head to toe, scrubbing vigorously. After rinsing off the soap, the boys either lounged about on stone benches, or dried off and used the upholstered furniture, or jumped into the warm water of the immense bathing pool. While some engaged in good-natured rough-housing, others were starting into sessions of boyish sexuality... fondling each other's erections, kissing playfully, lying down together in each other's arms. One group of 10 naked boys seemed intent on drinking large quantities of juice and chilled coffee and tea. Salim couldn't help but notice that these 10 seemed even more attractive than the others. He recognized Hadi, the cute 10-year-old lad who had shared the sultan's bed on a previous night, as well as several of the boys who had been at the head table at banquets, serving as attendants to the sultan's most prestigious guests. A delicately exquisite 13-year-old Egyptian named Anwar caught Salim's eye, his sensuous beauty sending a slight shudder through Salim's body. A fat, middle-age eunuch -- the page-master -- entered the room and thudded his staff noisily several times on the flagstones. The room became quiet immediately. "His Majesty will be arriving shortly. Commence your assigned functions. Boys of the first-rank... you will go to the blue alcove to wait on your Master." The man watched for a minute as 99 boys scurried into previously arranged locations and began their well-rehearsed activities. Several took up instruments and began playing a sensuous tune. Others assembled throughout the room in pairs or groups of three or four, eagerly undertaking ostentatious displays of erotic activity. Most of the boys were sucking and fucking in pairs, each pair assuming a different posture... a living Kama Sutra. Twenty or so of the boys stayed in the pool, keeping up their happy splashing and exuberant play. Salim searched the room for the gypsy-boy Kamal, finding him in a daisy chain of four sucking boys... indulging in glorious sexual pleasure while also presenting an utterly obscene display. A group of the older pages had oiled their bodies and began doing exercises that showed off their muscles, hefting large wooden clubs or wrestling at half-effort. The oldest -- a tall and broad-shouldered youth of 16 years named Ziyad -- was the most prominently displayed. Salim recognized him from the sexual melodrama that had been acted at his first banquet... his muscular and mature body, his arrogant demeanor, and most of all his impressively large cock. As he flexed his oiled biceps, abs, and pectorals, two of the smallest 10-year-olds knelt like bookends on either side of his strong hairy legs, keeping his penis fully erect with stroking fingers and flicking tongues. "Is all this only for show?" asked Salim. "The pages have just come from their afternoon studies, and I know for a fact that they engage in similar activities when left to their own devices. But a page's highest duty is to pleasure His Majesty... pleasing his eyes, arousing his senses, and serving him intimately when the page is given the opportunity. "Whenever the sultan will be bathing in the pages' hamam, they create the kind of tableau you see here. It has been thoroughly planned and varies each time. If the sultan chooses to take his bath here again tomorrow, he will find a differently arranged scene. Let's go down closer. We'll watch as His Majesty plays with his boys of the first rank." Down a flight of stairs and through two more corridors, Salim and Yusef came to a place with several narrow slots in the wall. Sliding the cover of one to the side, Salim found himself peeping into an alcove of 20 feet square, open on one side to the main room. Its walls, ceiling, and floor were completely covered with panels of the rich blue semi-precious stone, lapis lazuli. A generous flow of water cascaded from a wide flat spout, 10 feet up the innermost wall, splashing on the floor and flowing to a drain in the center of the room. The 10 first-rank boys awaited the sultan, lined up against the side wall opposite the peep hole. Each of the beauties was playing gently with his penis to keep it erect. The lads ranged in age from 10 to 14. They came from all parts of the Empire -- the Balkans, Syria, Greece, Turkey, southern Russia, Arabia, Persia, North Africa. And their hair was an array of textures in blond, black, red, and brunette... skin tones ranging from pale to olive to dusky. Ah, and their perfect cocks... all circumcised, all standing straight up, ranging from Hadi's slender 3-inch morsel to Anwar's maturing 6-incher. Salim could see Osman slowly walking around the main room, taking in the sexual scenes being acted out for his visual pleasure. Every so often, he would step into the action, kissing an especially tempting mouth... stroking a boyish erection, watching a particularly creative and artistic coupling. When he came to the muscular older boys, his hands wandered Ziyad's flexing muscles and throbbing adult-sized erection. It was clear that he liked what he saw. The sultan remained clothed until he reached the blue alcove, where a small eunuch-boy stepped from the shadows to remove his robe and disappear with it through an outer door. Osman was already half-hard, and the light touch of his fingers brought his cock the rest of the way to stiff arousal. "Who will be first?... Hadi? Shall we engage in combat?" said Osman in mock-challenge. "I am ready, Sire," giggled the young boy, stepping up to stand toe-to-toe with Osman. Expecting sexual activity, Salim instead watched as the sultan and his young page-boy each took his own penis in his hand and let a burst of urine squirt out... directly onto each other's bodies, cris-crossing like swords in a duel. The stiff erections made it easier to stop the flow, and Osman conserved most of the contents of his full bladder as another of the boys stepped up... then another. But it quickly dissolved into a free-for-all, as all of them joined in -- peeing on one other, on themselves, and most of all on the sultan. Excited laughter, and high-pitched squeals of delight from the younger boys, echoed through the room. Clearly, Osman's jaded erotic senses were aroused by more than convention sexuality. Salim was amused by this strange activity, but in a few more moments he was quite astounded as he watched Osman kneel down in the middle of the room as pairs or trios of boys in succession began peeing all over his body. Sprays of hot liquid were directed onto his chest and belly and crotch. The sultan masturbated as urine flowed over his stiff cock and stroking hand. And when Osman made his even-more-perverted desire evident, by opening his mouth wide and closing his eyes, the boys redirected the warm streams of pale fluid to the new location. In a few minutes, all of the participants had exhausted the contents of their previously-full bladders, and a half-dozen young eunuch-boy tellaks came in to scrub them with cloth mitts and rinse them under the artificial waterfall. Then the lot of them ran to the heated pool and jumped in, splashing and wrestling, hugging and groping, as all around them in the room 89 other boys continued their lascivious activity. "You enjoyed the sight," said Yusef, as they turned away from the peep-holes. It was a statement rather than a question. Salim grinned sheepishly. His hand had been down the front of his pants, and he had been fondling his penis unconsciously, oblivious to the physician's instruction to refrain from masturbation. That night, an assortment of entertainments followed the banquet. Several singers, a group of acrobats, and finishing with displays of strength by the same older pages who had been showing their muscles that afternoon for the sultan's enjoyment. Again, the naked bodies shimmered with oil as they hefted weights and flexed muscles. Again the center of attention was Ziyad, who effortlessly made his cock remain at its full 8 inches of erection. For his bed-chamber fun, Osman had instructed the page-master to stage a drama to be enacted... starring the sultan himself and only one other actor. As Salim watched through the peep-hole, the sultan's tailor dressed him in ragged garments. The clothing had been made that very afternoon, and it was an exaggerated theatrical version of what the poorest young street-beggar might wear. And when a tall, burley youth entered the room wearing the uniform of a Janissary officer, Salim was not at all surprised that it was Ziyad. "Please sir," said Osman in a falsetto voice (which almost made Salim giggle), as he stood in the corner of his bed-chamber, cringing slightly. "Can you spare a coin? I've not eaten all day, sir." "A beggar-boy, eh?" said Ziyad. He had a naturally deep voice and was good at acting his role of a scornful adult. "I'll not GIVE you anything, but if you wish to earn it, I'll pay you two copper mangirs to serve me for an hour. What say you, boy?" "Oh, yes sir," said Osman in his pretend-timid voice. "I'll do whatever you command." "Then you shall quench my lust, beggar-boy. Have you ever pleasured a man before?" "N-no, sir... The older boys sometimes make me suck their cocks back in the alley, but I... I've never served a man." "Well then, it's bloody-well time you learned... Get on your knees and open up my trousers... Take out my cock and give it a suck. And make it good, or I'll box your ears, and you'll not get a single mangir." In a moment, Osman was kneeling before the muscular "soldier", unbuttoning the heavy wool trousers. Ziyad wore no undergarment, and Osman's fingers immediately wrapped around the thick, half- hard circumcised cock that sprang out. He stroked it lightly a few times and then lowered his mouth around the widely-flared cockhead. The sultan's eyes closed, and a look of energized ecstacy spread across his face as his lips and tongue went to work. Salim once more marveled at the 8-inch length and broad girth of Ziyad's magnificent cock. A set of balls that would do a horse proud hung below it. The young boy's eyes had been drawn to these manly parts each time he had seen the 16-year-old page naked and hard. The sultan's head began to bob eagerly as his mouth took in more than half of the erection on each down-stroke. Ziyad sighed with satisfaction as he removed his tunic. Then he entwined his fingers in Osman's hair, forcefully guiding the vigorous blow job, and his words played to the sultan's desire to explore his submissive fantasies... this strange compulsion to be dominated by a powerful young man. "Suck my cock, peasant... Take it, boy.... Come on; you can do better than that, you pathetic little beggar... Take me deep in your throat.... Do it, cock-sucker." Osman was in a daze of animalistic lust. The realistic play- acting inflamed Osman's senses, and his mouth moved up and down the entire length of the cock-shaft with wanton desire. He was consumed by sexual hunger as he repeatedly allowed the thick slippery phallus to penetrate his throat. Then Ziyad pulled Osman's face away and grumbled: "Now strip nude, boy, and show me your body... then get on the bed with your ass raised up. I fancy shoving my cock up your butt-hole, my little beggar-boy." He stepped out of his trousers and stood tall above the kneeling Osman. The sultan's face was flushed; a trail of saliva ran from the edge of his mouth as he looked up at Ziyad's stern face. The 16-year-old looked very much a man, with a stubble of beard on his face, a smattering of hair across his powerful chest... and more plentiful body hair on his legs, at his armpits, and around the impressive cock that glowed dark-red and throbbed with arousal. "Oh no, sir... Don't fuck me... please!" gasped Osman, his face showing a mask of fear. "I'm a virgin, and your member would tear me apart! Please don't fuck me, sir!" "Insolent gutter-snipe. I'm paying for your body... I'll take you how I want." And with that, Ziyad pulled Osman to his feet and ripped the ragged clothes clean off him in a single tug of his strong hands. Salim noted that the sultan's 6-inch penis was straining upward in erection without having been touched, betraying his arousal and giving lie to his show of fear. "I'll teach you to refuse the command of a Janissary officer...." Ziyad sat down on the bed and dragged Osman face-down across his lap. Both youths were completely naked; both cocks achingly stiff. With his erection pressing against Ziyad's hairy thigh, the sultan braced for what would be the first spanking in his entire life. Osman had instructed the page-master in great detail about what he wished, and the scenario was playing out perfectly so far. "Oh, please, sir! Have mercy!" he bleated. But Osman was living out a fantasy that had burned in his mind many times, and he had no intention of stopping it now. When Ziyad's hand landed on the sultan's pale ass cheek, it stung only slightly and was followed by a few sensuous rubs before the hand rose and fell again. The 16-year-old page knew that he was treading on dangerous ground here. If he was too rough, he would anger the sultan and be subject to punishments that he didn't wish to contemplate. But if he was too mild, this too would annoy Osman. The page-master had given him explicit directions -- to steadily increase the severity of the spanking until the sultan cried out his submission. As his hand delivered harder spanks, the page-boy could tell he was doing it right. And he knew he was perfect actor to play this role, since it matched his true personality so well. Indeed, Ziyad had to restrain his urge to let loose his brutal instincts... the arrogant dominance that he played out daily in the page quarters. Ziyad had enjoyed the way the other pages feared him (even when they fawned over him), and he often bullied the smallest and weakest of them... demanding their sexual service in much the same way he was now demanding the sultan's. But he was even rougher with the meek little eunuch boys... the 8 and 9-year-old attendants who were required to offer their mouths and asses without hesitation to any man or page-boy in the palace who fancied a suck or fuck. As the older youth's hand slapped harder and more rapidly on Osman's butt, the sultan reveled in the sensation. His stiff penis humped into Ziyad's lap with each spank, and Osman felt a growing urgency to move on to the next scene.... He wanted his near-virgin ass penetrated by Ziyad's extraordinary cock, which he could feel pressing against the side of his hip. He was so hot to be fucked that his anus quivered in anticipation. It was this lust, rather than the pain from his reddened ass that caused him to call out: "Please, sir! I submit to you! You may use me as you wish.... Oh, please; no more! I will let you fuck me!" "That's better, my little whore. Now get in position, lest I take a switch to you." Osman lay face-down across the side of the bed, with his feet on the floor and his ass raised up. "Please be gentle, sir" he whimpered as he looked back over his shoulder." Ziyad had lubed his cock with warm oil and wasted no time with preliminaries. Standing at the sultan's proffered hind-quarters, the youth rubbed his thick cockhead back and forth against Osman's puckered hole. The anal muscle twitched at the contact, and the soft slick head pushed forward. Ziyad's cock was considerably larger than the very few that previously had penetrated Osman's asshole, but the sultan craved it... welcomed the erotic sensations, even with the knowledge of the inevitable pain that would mix with the pleasure. Then Osman felt the sharp slap of a hand on his right ass-cheek. "Come on, slut! Open your cunt to me! Come on, fuck-boy... take my cock." Osman strained to flex the hole open as the sturdy erection pushed in slowly. The strain on the sultan's face was a strange mixture of discomfort and ecstacy... the burn of over-stretched muscle and the tingling of super-charged nerve endings. He mumbled the words of his mental script, but seemed utterly lost in the swirl of physical sensations. "Oh, sir... please don't... oh... please... oh... oh... please... ohhhhhhh... yes..." The first three inches of Ziyad's cock had gradually slid their way into Osman's ass, and now the older youth pulled back an inch... then forward again. He began to fuck in and out... in slow and shallow fuck-strokes inside the sultan's dilated hole. SLAP! Ziyad's hand wacked the ass cheek again, making Osman jump slightly, and then softly groan with pleasure-pain. "That's it, whore. Your ass is mine. I'm gonna teach you how to be my fuck-boy. I may even take you back to the barracks and share you with my comrades." Though he spoke with confident lust, Ziyad was actually struggling to hold his powerful desire in check. Had this been a page-boy beneath him, or especially a young eunuch slaveboy, he wouldn't care a whit about anything except satisfying his own desires... even if it meant the virtual rape of the other boy. But everything Ziyad was hearing and feeling was telling him that the sultan actually wanted that kind of rough treatment! Ziyad slapped Osman's ass again... twice more... and hard. He grumbled some additional arrogant verbal abuse. The sultan only moaned with pleasure and brought his hand to his crotch to masturbate himself. Ziyad's instinct was leading him to a very bad decision. 'If His Majesty LIKED be bullied... WANTED to be fucked hard, then a hard fuck he shall have!' This thought instantly increased the temperature of Ziyad's barely-contained lust, and it boiled over violently. And at the same moment that Osman was lifting his ass up even higher, and pushing it back to take the cock even deeper, Ziyad grabbed Osman's hips and thrust to the hilt... then pulled back and rammed his cock home again... and again and again. He leaned forward and grasped onto the sultan's shoulders, pushing him down into the soft bed, as he fucked with uncontrolled abandon. The instant cry of pain and protest caught in Osman's throat and was muffled by the bedcovers. The sultan was plunged into the most unbearable agony, as his bowel was pummeled by the battering ram phallus. And when he protested, the cries that emerged from Osman's throat were ignored, taken as being only part of the game. A dozen times in quick succession, the muscular page stabbed with his cock in long fuck-strokes. "Ziyad, you stupid dog! You denizen of a pig sty! You soon-to-be dead man! STOP IT!!" When the words finally penetrated his lust-addled brain, Ziyad pulled out of Osman's ass and sank to the ground, prostrating himself... all thoughts of play-acting having been erased instantly. "Oh, Sire! I beg your forgiveness!... I was sure that you wanted me to...." "SILENCE!!... How dare you presume to know what I want... By Allah; I am in such pain..." Osman's hand went back to his asshole, and his fingers came up bloodied. He moaned as if he were dying, and stretched out to pull the satin cord that would summon his bodyguard. In a few moments, a very large, very black, Nubian eunuch entered the room. He surveyed the scene in the room at a glance and began to pull out his scimitar to decapitate the groveling Ziyad. "Hold, Aswad. Don't ruin my carpet with the blood of this dog. "What would my Master have me do?" "A pipe of hashish and opium for a start. And summon my physician. As for THIS," he said gesturing to Ziyad; "perhaps I shall deal with him myself after I have smoked some medicine. String him up in the usual fashion and bring me a punishment rod from the rack on the wall... the second from the top... yes, that flexible one." In short order, the sultan's commands had been carried out to the letter. He knelt on the bed in a posture not unlike the one in which he had been fucked... smoking intoxicating fumes from the hose of a hookah while the middle-aged eunuch physician examined his anus and probed carefully into his rectum. Ziyad faced the wall, his wrists tethered with leather cuffs attached to taut ropes suspended from the ceiling; his ankle-cuffs attached to iron rings set into the floor. Aswad stood at the door, his large arms crossed. Salim, who had not made a peep the entire time, stood transfixed at the peep hole that allowed a view of the intensely exciting drama. This day had been filled with wondrous discovery, and it just kept getting more incredible. "It appears to be only bruises, Your Majesty," said the physician. "A small tear at the entrance has produced the blood." I am confident you will heal quickly, with no intervention by me. But I pray you notify me, Sire, if any blood should appear in the chamber pot at your next elimination." The physician had years of experience in treating the injuries caused by too-large cocks fucking unaccustomed asses... especially those of newly-arrived slave boys. He paused for a moment as the still-naked sultan sat up and took another big puff on the wooden mouthpiece at the end of the hookah's hose. When the physician spoke again, it was in a halting voice. "Sire... if I may be so impertinent as to suggest...." "Yes, yes; I know what you're going to say. That the sultan should never be fucked in the ass." The physician looked embarrassed. "Sire... I would not be so presumptuous as to tell you... but, ahh... your point about traditional protocol is well-taken. I was going to advise that any future pursuit of this particular pastime should be preceded by the course of stretching that is used with the new boys... the progression of gradually wider and longer plugs that can be inserted in the nether-hole to prepare it." "Yes; perhaps... But for now, I have no interest in trying this activity again." "Is there anything further I may do to serve you, Sire?" Osman looked over at Ziyad and then back at the physician. He motioned for the man to come close, and then whispered in his ear. "Yes, sire. It shall be done this very night," said the physician, and then he left the room. Salim took hold of the slender punishment rod and brought it down hard on the bedcover. The sound of it whistling through the air and slapping against the satin cloth made Ziyad flinch... and made Osman smile. But when the sultan began to stand up, he grimaced and sat back down. "Aswad, bring my Favorite Boy in here." Salim heard this of course, and was already in the hallway when the big eunuch opened the door of Osman's bedchamber. "Osman! Are you badly hurt?" asked Salim with concern. The Favorite Boy, alone among all in the palace, could address the sultan by his given name. "No, my love. Not badly. But I am feeling the effects of the medicine, and I need you to help me in punishing this villain. Take the rod and paint some stripes along his body." Salim had never received a whipping, though he'd watched as other boys... back in his Bosnian village... were whipped by their fathers. There had not been much privacy when families lived in small shacks, and the "woodshed" was a simple lean-to in full view of the neighbors. "I will do as you wish, Osman," said the boy in a reluctant tone. He held the wooden dowel in his hand and whipped the air a few times. "Remove your robe, Salim. It will get in your way." The sultan didn't bother to mention that the sight of the boy's nude body would please him. Salim let his robe drop to the floor and stood naked beside the silent and motionless Ziyad. The now-humble 16-year-old had been thinking of all the horrible things that might happen to him, and the prospect of a beating was among the mildest of all the possibilities. What he feared most -- even more than having his head separated from his shoulders by Aswad's scimitar -- was being sent to a war-galley, where he would spend the rest of his life chained naked to a heavy oar, feeling the overseer's whip on his back whenever he lagged, and praying for death to take him from that hell-on-earth. Salim raised the whip above his head, recalling how he'd seen it done, and brought it down sharply on Ziyad's buttocks. The youth flinched, but didn't utter a sound. Again the rod came down, this time on the backs of Ziyad's thighs. "Harder, my sweet. You're too gentle with this ox," said Osman, as he continued smoking his hookah. Salim had no ill-feelings toward Ziyad -- he didn't really know him -- but he felt a surge of excitement as he applied the rod to the stoic older youth. This was his first taste of the trill that comes from holding total dominance over another. The sultan could see it too. "I see that it pleasures you to discipline this scoundrel." Salim glanced down for a moment, and saw that his penis was rigidly erect. It didn't hurt, either... a sign that it was nearly healed. "But you're still not doing it properly, Salim.... You've much to learn about such things, my pet. Come sit with me and share my pipe.... Aswad, show my gentle lover how this task is done." The Nubian eunuch took the rod and began to lay a pattern of welts all across Ziyad's back, buttocks, and legs. He whipped with ferocious speed and intensity... so hard that Salim was sure the rod would break. Under Aswad's punishment, muffled sounds of pain issued from behind Ziyad's clenched teeth and closed mouth. And when his head slumped forward, it was clear that he had passed out. "Enough. Take him to the physician," said the sultan. Salim was glad that the youth would be given medical treatment. His entire back side looked horrible. "Come to me, dearest one," said Osman to Salim when they were alone. "I've missed having you in my bed all these nights since you became purified in the eyes of Allah. With the bandage removed, I can see that the physician did his usual excellent work. Y our parts were beautiful before, but they are now exquisite." Though Salim's penis still bore a ring of nearly-healed scab, it was indeed beautiful... the slightly-flared glans always on proud display, hinting at erection even when soft. And his ball-sack was so perfect in form that the combination of penis and scrotum seemed a work of art... boyish genitals so idealized that the Florentine sculptor Donatello might have used the image for his bronze statue of David. "I feel sleep coming on, Salim. Lay here in my arms." The two snuggled together on the bed and kissed softly. The effects of smoking opium and hashish made them both lethargic, and they drifted to sleep in minutes. When he awoke, Salim felt a hand fondling his crotch. Osman lay behind him, their bodies spooned together, idly toying with Salim's ball-sack and morning erection and kissing the back of his neck. Salim realized almost immediately that Osman's warm and throbbing 6-inch erection was pressing against his butt. "Good morning, Osman.... How do you feel?" "Much better, my love. A little twinge of discomfort, but almost back to normal I think. After you give me a good suck, I shall no doubt be in top form." Salim twisted around in the sultan's arms, kissed him seductively, them slithered down to take Osman's cock in his mouth.... This would be a morning ritual to be repeated every time Salim awoke in the sultan's bed. A few days later, Salim was declared fully healed and he returned to his rightful place in the sultan's bed nearly every night. On most nights they were joined by harem girls and page-boys... alone or in various arrangements. Typically, though, only Salim remained in the bed by morning. And now that he was healed, he bathed daily with Osman in the haman... sometimes the sultan's private bath, but occasionally with the mob of pages in the massive room. One day, during his afternoon studies with Yusef, Salim asked what had become of Ziyad. He had not seen the youth in the pages' hamam and felt guilty about his own role in the Ziyad's severe beating. Yusef knew full-well what had happened. Everything going on in the palace was known to the Eunuch Brotherhood - the former attendants who held the positions of highest importance and authority in the palace. But Yusef also knew when to be circumspect. "Ziyad has been in the infirmary. He has been... ill. I hear tell, however, that he has recovered and will return to the pages' hamam tomorrow afternoon. No doubt you and His Majesty will be there to greet him." Salim did not think much of the comment, but on the next day he did indeed accompany Osman to the great hamam. Strangely, the page-boys were not acting out an ornate erotic tableau this time, though sensual music was playing and the boys were all totally naked. They seemed to be waiting expectantly for something, even after the sultan and his Favorite Boy sat down on an ornate divan at one side of the room. Osman's arrival was the cue for the entry through the door of two hefty eunuch guards and... was that... could it really be... Ziyad? Dressed like a dancing girl? Face and eyes made up like a whore? Body completely shaved of hair? A chorus of excited whispers went up from the boys immediately. Ziyad was brought before the sultan, and he immediately dropped to the floor in abject submission. "Get up, fool. I thought you were going to entertain us with a dance?" "Yes, master... oh yes; of course!" His speech sounded odd, but it was difficult to say why. The music played louder, and Ziyad -- the macho youth who had so recently been the arrogant stud -- began dancing like a woman performing a strip tease. There was nothing intentionally comic in his manner... he was trying his best to play the part with utter conviction. But the onlookers were laughing nonetheless. Ziyad's nipples were painted the same garish crimson as his lips, and sarcastic remarks from the dozens of pages made his face turn an even deeper shade of red than the make-up blush on his cheeks. The boy who had always bullied the others was now forced be a total sissy for everyone to see. Salim was looking forward to seeing the teenager's big cock, and wondered if it had been shaved of pubic hair in the same manner that his legs and chest and underarms had been shorn. When the last garment came off, there came a loud gasp in unison from dozens of mouths. He was a eunuch! Ziyad's penis and balls had been removed completely by the physician and the skin expertly sutured together. The wound had healed, and all that remained was a small hole that allowed his pee to dribble out as he squatted like a girl. "Enough of your pathetic dancing, eunuch," said Osman. "Let's see how well you can serve 100 cocks, one after the other. Get into your position, whore. I'm sure you've been told what fate awaits you if so much as one of my boys finds your service to be unsatisfactory." They moved to another part of the large room, and Salim noticed that a raised platform had been built there. On it was the most unusually-shaped piece of furniture Salim had ever seen. But when Ziyad lay face-down on it, Salim could see that the apparatus had been designed so that the user was perfectly positioned to be fucked in the ass by someone standing behind, and to be face- fucked by someone standing at the other end. "Salim, you and I shall go first. I think you'll find that his oral skills are much improved. I'm told he has a new technique that is quite pleasing. But I prefer to take the back instead." Osman stepped behind Ziyad, whose ass was raised up. He knelt on two narrow "arms", a strap holding each knee in place. His legs were splayed apart, and the design of the apparatus allowed the sultan to stand right behind... with his hardening cock at asshole-level. The sultan spit on his palm, rubbed his cock a few times to bring it fully firm, and then jabbed hard into Ziyad's tight hole. The youth yelped involuntarily at the pain, but quickly clamped his mouth shut as Osman began fucking him in fast, long, brutal thrusts. Salim stepped up to Ziyad's face. The youth's torso lay on a flat surface that inclined down, with a clever bracket that held Ziyad's head in position. When the 16-year-old opened his mouth wide, ready to take Salim's cock, it was revealed that Ziyad's front teeth had been extracted, six at the top and six on the bottom. As he slurped up Salim's dick, it slid between bare gums. Salim had never experienced a sensation like this... not from the mouth of another boy; not from fucking a boy's ass; not from sliding into the tight damp girl-sex of the young acrobat named Jamilah. The top of the Salim's 4-inch erection was gliding along soft wet gums and continuing against the roof of Ziyad's mouth. The bottom of the boy-cock was pleasured by gums and slithering tongue. Since Ziyad's head was restrained, Salim controlled the pace, and he began to fuck his hips in slow thrusts, shivering at the erotic stimulation. Salim looked up and saw the intense expression on Osman's face. If the definition of "rape" is the merger of sex, hostility, and aggression, then there is no doubt that the sultan was raping Ziyad. Osman's hips were slamming into the older lad's ass, and his fingers dug into the flesh of Ziyad's upraised ass cheeks. Then Osman's eyes met Salim's, and his anger seemed to subside as they looked intensely into each other's eyes. Salim smiled and began to thrust faster. The boy and his Master were now matching the pace of their rapid, hard fuck-strokes. Before long, both were rewarded by intense orgasms. Ziyad, for his part, would never experience orgasm again. But he was happy to still be alive. And he knew it was far better to live as a eunuch slave on dry land, rather than a galley slave on the Mediterranean Sea or Indian Ocean. As Osman and Salim climbed down from the platform, two pages immediately took their places, fore and aft. As always, the page-master had choreographed the event, with sole consideration given to the sultan's entertainment. The page with the largest cock (now that Ziyad had relinquished the title), began a brisk fuck of the new eunuch's ass. Ten-year-old Hadi was at the mouth, standing on a riser that a guard had put into place on the platform to lift him up. The youngster's squeals of pleasure indicated that Ziyad would be trying just as hard to please all the pages as he had been with the Favorite Boy. Osman and Salim sat on a comfortable divan to observe for a while, as a series of older boys shot their cum into Ziyad's rectum and several pre-pubescents attained tingling dry orgasms. "Let us bathe, Salim," said the sultan. They walked naked to an alcove where two eunuch-boys washed them thoroughly with soapy mitts on each hand. After they rinsed and jumped into the pool, the Favorite Boy and his master watched intermittently as the activity on the platform continued. Two lines of page-boys moved slowly, as they waited their turns to use Ziyad's body. Salim calculated that it would take hours, as Ziyad was double-fucked time, after time, after time. Osman yawned, somewhat theatrically. "We'll go back to my bedchamber now. I desire to nap with you before the banquet. Perhaps we'll return here after a time to see how things are going.... Or perhaps not.... I've decided to have target practice tomorrow morning, and I think Ziyad will be invited to be there. You'll enjoy my special type of target practice, Salim."
The End (for now) |
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