Message-ID: <2077eli$9707151104@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Archived-At: <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/Year97/2077.txt>
From: nostrumo@nienor.IN-Berlin.DE (Nostrumo)
Subject: Repost TG: The Sultan's Heir   by   Tigger   (1/3)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories,alt.sex.stories.tg,alt.sex.stories.moderated
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d
Path: qz!not-for-mail
Organization: The Committee To Thwart Spam
Approved: <usenet-approval@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Moderator-Contact: Eli the Bearded <story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Story-Submission: <story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us>
X-Original-Message-ID: <5qfigq$f1o@nienor.in-berlin.de>


Hi.

  This is the winning story out of Sapphire's story contest. As ever
with Tiggers stories this one is amazing as well and realistic in it's
own rules. I hope Tigger will appreciate this reposting.

  As usual I DIDN'T write this story and haven't any claim on it. If
you have some usefull hints or some good coments, your mail is then
welcome. Flames, you know, they will be piped to /dev/null.

  If you are an author and wish to remain anonymouns or just try to
avoid the replies to your work. I offer you the chance of posting your
stories and collecting the response for you. This offer only stands for
story postings and for nothing else.

Enjoy the story.

Ciao
	Nostrumo

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> cut here with a sharp knife <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<


The Sultan's Heir



                                                                  by Tigger


Last Dawn; First Morning


Dawn was breaking over the River Bosporus as the small figure crept through
the shadows toward the vine covered wall.  A last, quick check of his
surroundings satisfied him that he was still alone and undetected.  With
agility and grace, he scaled the wall and then moved quickly into the limbs
of the large tree that should have been more carefully pruned to deny access
from this wall.

He had dressed carefully for this day's activities, dispensing with his
cooler white robes in favor of darker greens and browns.  The tree's shade
would keep him cool enough, while his clothes made him all but invisible as
he huddled in his special hiding place in the tree's thick foliage.

Another scan of the grounds revealed no one who could have seen him.
Pleased with himself, he settled to wait for the women to come out and play.
Surely, this proved his courage, his manhood.  It was too bad he did not
dare brag about his adventures to the other boys, but that would be stupid,
and fatal.  As brave as he was, he did not wish to die.  Still, the secret
knowledge of his courageous act would make it easier to maintain his dignity
when the other boys started to harass him again.

                            - - - - - - - -

The sun had been up only a little while and already, Leisha was hard at work
in her private chamber.  In fact, her name was much more important and
impressive than "Leisha", but that was the name her husband called her by,
and therefore, how she called herself in her mind.

A scratching from the entrance drew her attention.  "Come." she ordered with
quiet authority.  A younger woman, dressed in silks and adorned with jewelry
entered the room.

"Lady, the lookouts say that he has returned." She said quietly, her eyes
respectfully averted.

Leisha had been both expecting and hoping for this.  In all likelihood, it
would be her last hope.  "Is he using the same hiding place, Senna?" She
asked gently.  The girl was still awed by her elevation to her current
position of hand maiden and informal aide de camp.  Hopefully, she would
soon outgrow that timidity.  The girl had intelligence, but her almost
obsequious attitude was severely limiting her usefulness to the Sultana.
Perhaps, it would be kinder to marry her off to some wealthy merchant or
honored general.  It might also be safer...  .  .  for Leisha and her plans.

"Yes, Lady.  Right in the large tree over the gardens."

"All right.  Alert the Keisler Agha.  Have him report to me once everything
is in readiness.  Then, we will send the girls out for their morning play."
The girl salaamed and backed her way out of the room.

Restless and anxious, Leisha stood and went to stand by the window
overlooking those gardens.  Nothing about the tree revealed the presence of
the spying male.  She briefly wished that her Mother-in-Law was still alive,
that the old woman's wise council was still available to her.

What she wished was that someone else would have to give these orders.

No, the responsibility was hers, now.  And just as well, for it was her
son's birthright she was fighting for.  Spinning from the window, she called
for her serving maids, renewed determination ringing in her voice.  She must
dress properly for this occasion.  The Sultana Valideh, mother of the heir
to the throne of Suliemann the Magnificent, had to terrify this young man,
this boy, if her plan was to bear fruit.

                              -----------

The women were beautiful in their brightly colored silks and satins.
Completely uninhibited behind the supposedly impenetrable wall, they
cavorted like children, laughing and yelling as they played with a ball, or
splashed in the pool.  He liked them best in the pool, for they always
undressed and unveiled to swim.  Idly, he wondered if any of them were wives
to the Sultan?  They seemed very young for that honor.  More likely, they
were concubines or perhaps the wives of the Sultan's sons.

A rustle behind him broke his revery and hand him spinning around, but it
was too late.  Something sharp nicked at his arm and then, the world went
black.

                              ----------

Slowly, consciousness crept back into the boy's mind.  Two things registered
simultaneously on his still-fogged brain.  He could not move a muscle and he
was stark naked.  Shaking his head to clear it, he found that he was bound
hand and foot to a very heavy chair.  A large wad of something had been
forced into his mouth and tied there, effectively muting him.

The room was dark and stuffy, with only a little light leaking in through a
heavily curtained doorway that was off to one side of the room.  Immediately
in front of where he sat bound was a magnificent, gold-gilt chair with
plush, velvet cushions and backrest.



  A momentary flash of light from the door caught his attention, but the
cause was already gone before he could turn and focus on it.  Fear coiled in
his guts.  There was no doubt that he was going to die.  Men who defiled the
harem of the Sultan died long, slow horrible deaths.  Who would take care of
his Mother, he thought bleakly.  Should have thought of that before trying
to prove how brave he was, his conscience chided.  Now, it was too late.

The curtain unfurled and two shadowed figures loomed in the suddenly bright
entryway.  A woman dressed in magnificent court robes entered first,
followed by a tall, muscular, bare chested black man who carried a vicious
looking scimitar.  She gracefully settled into the magnificent chair while
the man took up a position to one side of the Lady, and between her and the
boy.  The boy realized that the man could cut him in half with that blade
and not move a step from where he'd positioned himself.

"I am the Sultana Valideh, boy, and you have committed a heinous crime
against my husband, the Sultan.  We must decide what we are going to do
about you." It was only then, that the boy realized that she was unveiled.
He had been so stunned by her pronouncement, that he had stared at her.  His
incredulity had made her smile, sardonically.

She was a handsome woman, older than his mother, but still slender and
vigorous.  Her ebony hair was shot with tendrils of silver that flashed in
the uncertain light of the room.  A large ruby glittered in her hairpiece
and was matched by other stones dangling from her ears and about her neck
and arms.

"We must talk, young man." she said grimly.  She turned her eyes to the
guard.  "Ali, ungag him."

Slowly, without moving from his position, the powerfully built black man
lifted the scimitar to the boy.  Only the binding holding him rigidly to the
chair kept him from skittering away.  With infinite control and delicacy,
the edge of the blade sliced the strap holding the gag without cutting the
boy.  He could only stare as the straps fell into his lap, his eyes round
and frightened.

A soft chuckle from the woman brought him back.  "Unless you want Ali to
remove the remainder of the gag in the same manner, I suggest you spit out
the wadding in your mouth."

He'd have swallowed if he'd had any spit to do it with.  The wad was large
and his mouth was very dry because of it, so it took several tries, but it
finally joined the strap in his bared lap.  "What is your name, boy, and how
old are you?" Leisha snapped out at him.

Fear prompted his answer.  "Selim, Lady, son of Rascheed, former Captain in
the Sultan's Army.  And I am nearly sixteen years old."

The Sultana's eyes became narrow as she scanned the boy's body.  Nodding to
herself, she continued.  "Well, Selim, you should die painfully for your
foolishness, but I am a merciful woman.  However, one thing you must know
and accept before we continue.  Whatever your fate, life as you have known
it ends today.  You have entered a place that no man other than the Sultan
may enter and live.  Selim, son of Rascheed, must therefore die."

Selim's heart dropped to his guts and he fought to keep back the tears.
Whatever came, he had to remain worthy of his father.  Leisha watched the
boy swallow convulsively and privately admired his fortitude.  He expected
to die, and yet, he was fighting not to give in to his terror.  He might do,
she thought, he just might do.

"As I said, Selim, I am a merciful woman.  I will give you a choice.  You
can choose the death your crime warrants.  I can have Ali," she inclined her
head to man standing between them,"who is the Chief Eunuch of the Sultan's
Harem, turn you over to my Lord's executioners and you will die sometime
nextmonth.  Although, " she added contemplatively, "You willlikely have gone
mad from the pain far sooner than that." She paused again, letting that
thought take root and grow.  "Or, we can eliminate the crime altogether by
having you emasculated.  As a eunuch," a dark grin lit her face, "You would
no longer count as a man.  Unfortunately, your age is against you.  Most
boys called to that service are neutered before they reach puberty because
they usually bleed to death or die from infections if the operation is done
after puberty."

All color had drained from Selim's face and he was visibly shaking now.
Good, she thought.  Let the fear grow before she gave him his only other
alternative.  "Still, that is a far more pleasant death than what my husband
would inflict upon you.  There is a third possibility, as well, but I think
we will discuss that later.  Suffice it to say, that I have atask you might
be able to perform for me.  Should you succeed, you will be allowed to
live." She turned to the huge guard.  "Ali?  I think Selim might need help
with his decisions.  Please see that he observes an execution and a
neutering.  I want him to understand those alternatives very clearly before
I give him his only other one."

"As you command, Mistress." The tall black intoned as she stood to leave.
He followed her out the door leaving a badly shaken boy fighting the urge to
soil himself.



A week later.


Ali stood rigidly at attention in front of Liesha's desk.  It amused her
that he could not bring himself to relax in her presence, even when they
were completely alone.  Of all the personalities in the Harem, he was one of
her few friends, and the only one she trusted absolutely.  The myth that
eunuchs were fat or stupid was just that, a myth.  The magnificent body and
mind of her friend was proof of that.  Heavens, but it was a crime against
women that this beautiful, gentle man could never join and make love with a
woman.

After 20 years together, she knew better than to offer him a seat, so she
merely smiled her greeting to him.  "It went well?" she asked.

A look of pure satisfaction glittered in his eyes.  "Indeed it did,
Mistress.  The Sultan's executioner exceeded even his well earned reputation
for cruelty with the two thieves we watched dispatched.  Also, it was not
lost on the lad that they lasted far less time than the days and days you
promised him.  As for the emasculation, that too went very well for us.  One
of the boys spurted blood quite magnificently when cut.  And the burying of
the boys in the dung pile afterwards was also effective.  It was quite ...
pungent that day from the heat."

"The boy who bled.  He will live?"

Smiling at the concern in her voice, the Keislar Agha nodded.  "He will be
fine.  The flow was staunched quickly and verylittle blood was actually
lost."

Relieved, Leisha pressed on.  "So, what do you think?"



  The large man was silent for a moment as he considered.  "He will go along
with your plan, Mistress, no matter how repulsive he may find the duties."
He paused again, reflectively.  "There is something else I have learned that
may even win his full complicity in this venture.  Something that will
motivate him far more than just the fear for his own life." The Sultana
looked up at him expectantly.  "His Mother, Lady, she is widowed and alone.
He fears for her well being after he is gone.  If you offered to see to her
health and comfort in return for his taking his part in this..." he let his
voice trail off.

"He is that concerned for her?" Ali nodded.  "Very well.  I will use that,
but only after he agrees on his own behalf.  I will make the other an added
inducement, a hedge against his good behavior." Both of them knew she would
see to the Mother's protection in any case, but the boy would not have to
know that.



  "When do you want the boy?"

"Tomorrow is soon enough.  Another day of fear and hunger will make him all
the more malleable.  He needed to lose a little weight, anyway." That
reminded her of something else.  "Has he been measured for the appliance?"

"Yes, Mistress.  I personally gave the sizes to your goldsmith yesterday,
and the device is now complete and ready."

"Do you think he can do what needs be done, Ali?  So much is at stake, and
we have so little time."

"His general build is correct, and he is very slight for his age.  My
sources tell me that his father was not a large man and his mother is also
slight of build.  Besides, I have seen her and he seems to favor her.
Everything will hinge on how well he learns and whether he can overcome his
self image sufficiently to perform.  Only Allah knows that with any
certainty, Mistress, but I think he is a suitable candidate."

Leisha took a few moments to consider the softly spoken words.  So like Ali,
she thought.  Clear and concise.  Optimism without overconfidence.  And he
was right.  The boy had potential, and besides, she no longer had any
choice.  "Very well, Ali.  Have the boy and the appliance here tomorrow
after the midday meal.  Order your physician and the Teacher of the Womanly
Arts to attend me at the same time."

So little time, she thought again as Ali glided away on his errands.  So
little time and so very much to lose.



Back to the Womb


Exhaustion dragged at Selim as he once again sat waiting in the dark room.
At least this time only his hands were tied and they were in front of him,
too.  He had not been bound to his chair.



  What sleep his captors had permitted him had been shattered time and again
by terrible dreams.  Nightmare screams of the tortured and spurting, pulsing
fountains of red had brought awake, screaming, each time his fatigue
weighted eyes had drifted shut.  He'd been fed, although not nearly enough
to keep the hunger pangs at bay.  Water had been plentiful - for drinking,
not bathing - so he had not dehydrated over the time in the small windowless
cell.  He did not even know how long he'd been in there after they had shut
him in there after forcing him to watch as the last neutered boy had been
buried in offal.  The stench, he thought, that horrible stench.

Those dreams and those memories made him even more fearful about what this
day held.  The Sultana was going to tell him his third option.  By his hope
of heaven, what could be so dreadful, so horrible a fate, that he needed to
see those things with his own eyes to convince him to accept this unknown
fate?

The question remained unanswered as the curtain opened to admit the Chief
Eunuch and the Sultana.  She again sat down in the throne-like chair, while
the Keisler Agha took his place between them.  On seeing her enter, Selim
sank down in a salaam, his face pressed to the floor.  "Rise, Selim." was
her gentle order.

With great effort, the boy levered himself upright, but stayed on his knees,
as much because he doubted his ability to stand without falling as anything
else.  "Ali tells me you have seen two of your choices." Wearily, the boy
nodded.  "I will now explain part of what will be required of you if you
accept the third option.  I need a man to become a woman."

Shock cut through the fugue of Selim's hungry fatigue.  His eyes were huge
in disbelief.  Leisha hid a grin behind her hand.  They would have much to
teach this one about subtlety and subterfuge.  "Yes, young Selim, son of
Rascheed and Mirrim, I have a task that requires a man to look like a woman,
behave like a woman, live like a woman, and yes, make love like a woman."
She paused a moment to let that sink in and then she fixed his gaze with her
own.  "I told you that your life as you knew it had ended that day you
violated the harem, young man.  If you are to walk from this room today with
any hope of life beyond the next few days, you will do so taking your first
steps towards womanhood.  Now, come, I am sure you have questions.  Speak,
boy."

Still stunned, coherent speech was all but beyond Selim.  Spasmodically, his
bound hands slipped to his groin.  "But, how, .  .  I mean, what about...?"

Understanding his dilemma, Leisha decided to answer his questions.  "How is
something you will learn, probably painfully, over the coming weeks.  As to
your male endowments, for the time being, you will keep them.  I need a male
who looks like a female, young Selim, but who is still fully and entirely
male.  And besides, I already told you the likelihood of your surviving
castration."



  "And if ..." The boy faltered.  "If I succeed at this mission?"

"Then you live." was the cold answer.  "As a woman for the remainder of your
days.  If not here, then elsewhere.  Do well and your life will be one of
comfort.  Fail, or worse, accept the mission and fail to try and your life
will become a hell on earth that only women can fully appreciate.  There are
places, young Selim, where a woman's body is her only asset and even that is
not her own.  Places where death is easy and life impossible.  Now, you must
choose.  Pick your fate, young Selim."

"Mistress...  Lady.  " Selim choked out the words, then pressed on.  "My
mother.  She's alone.  I am afraid for her."



  "She is blameless in my view, Selim.  Even as we speak, she has been taken
into my care.  She has been told that you died trying to save a child and
that I was touched by your bravery.Accept my mission, Young Selim.  Learn
what you must earn, and I promise you she will want for nothing." Leisha
consciously gentled her voice as she made that pledge.

"I have failed my mother once, Lady, I will not do so again.  I will do as
you ask." the boy's voice trembled with commitment and determination.

"Are you sure?  The priest teach that you will be giving up your hope of
Paradise by surrendering your manhood this way.  Be very certain, young
Selim, because if you choose this path and then fail to try, I will have Ali
cut your tongue out and turn you over to the Sultan's Executioner.  You
won't even have the solace of screaming your pain." Nor would he be able to
tell the Sultan's Chief Justice where he'd been or what he'd been doing
behind the purdah.

"My mother's life and what is left of my father's honor are at stake, Lady.
I promised him I would take care of her.  You have given me one last chance
to keep that vow.  My hopes of Paradise would surely die if I did not do as
you ask."

Satisfied at last, Leisha relaxed.  "Very well, young one.  From this moment
on, you will be known as Shamarra.  After we part today, Ali will take you
to one of my harem guards who we have had trained as a physician.  He will
examine you andensure you are as healthy as you appear.  Then, you will meet
with Reyna, our Teacher of the Womanly Arts.  You will work with her daily
so that you become a woman in all outward appearances and mannerisms.  She
will also instruct you in the arts of giving pleasure to a man.  Only Ali,
the physician, Lady Reyna and myself must ever know you are really a male.
Do you understand that?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"What is your name?"

He nearly answered 'Selim', but caught himself at the last instant.  "I am
called Shamarra, Mistress." He said trying to affect a feminine tone.

Nodding at his catch, Leisha smiled sardonically.  "You would do well, young
Shamarra, to think of yourself in the feminine from now on.  The sooner you
think that way, the sooner it will be what you are, and that time, my young
woman, must come as soon as possible."

With that, she stood and floated out of the room.  With surprising
gentleness for so large and strong a man, Ali lifted the exhausted would-be
girl to her feet.  "Come along, Lady Shamarra.  The Doctor awaits us.  After
that, Lady Reyna and after that, some food." If you are still awake to eat
it, he mused.

The "Doctor", was a younger, shorter version of Ali.  "I am called Torack."
he said by way of greeting.  His voice was soft and very gentle.  He had
strong, handsome features and large, expressive brown eyes.  Selim, or
rather, Shamarra, was of a mind to trust this soft spoken man in the clean
white robes.

"Torack is my brother, Shamarra." Ali offered.  "As a boon to me, the
Sultana Valideh purchased him when he was captured and sold as a harem
slave.  He has studied with the finest physicians in the Empire."

Strangely, that comforted the would-be woman, which was just as well.  As
gentle as his voice and demeanor were, the examination was not.  Minute
attention was paid to every part of his body, even his hair, or in the case
of his pubic area, his lack of it.  Torack pressed his ear to the hairless
chest and listened to the beating of the heart and the rhythm of the lungs.
A strong hand covered and sealed Shamarra's mouth, forcing her to breathe
through her nose.

Thick, cylindrical probes of steadily increasing girth were gently forced
into mouth and throat until he started gagging.  These were then slowly
withdrawn to just the point where he regained control of his breathing, then
were reinserted until the gagging started again.  Thinner devices were
carefully lubricated and inserted into his anus.  Only Ali's incredible
strength held the boy-girl in place during this painful and unexpected
procedure.

His penis and scrotum were manipulated and examined.  A vivid flush stole
over the nude boy's body as his small penis responded to the gentle fondling
and erected.

Through it all, Torack made many notes in a book on his table, and asked
questions that were often as embarrassing to the adolescent as the intrusive
procedures.  "Have you ever lain with a woman?" "Have you ever fondled
yourself as I have just done?" "How often?" "How did it feel?" "Does your
penis get much longer or thicker than it just did?" "In the course of this
activity, does any fluid spill forth from the slit?"

Only the fate awaiting him if he failed in his tasking and the implications
for his Mother gave Shamarra the courage to answer such humiliating
questions.  No, he had never lain with a woman.  Yes, he did masturbate
often, at least daily and usually more often because it felt so good.  No,
it had never gotten as long or as thick before and yes, a thick, white,
viscous fluid always ejected from the slit.  Quite copiously, in fact.

Torack finished a few final notes in his book and then turned to Ali.  "That
is all for now, my brother.  We are ready for the Lady Reyna.  If you will
call her, I will prepare Shamarra for the next phase." Ali nodded and strode
from the room.  Shamarra arose from the palette she had been lying upon and
followed Torack to a small anteroom off the main clinic.

Inside the small room, two fine chains hung from the ceiling, with soft
leather straps dangling from them.  Experienced with restraints after his
time in the dungeons, Shamarra offered her hands to the young black.  Torack
saw the fear in the girl-boy's eyes and smiled gently.  "You are not really
going to be tortured, child, although it may seem that way initially.  This
is only to make what must be done easier for all of us, yourself included.
It won't last a moment longer than necessary.  Just relax until Ali returns
with the Lady Reyna."

That was easier said than done, but Shamarra tried.  Still, he/she was in a
muck-sweat by the time Ali reappeared with a handsome woman of middle years
dressed in the silks of the harem.  She was taller than Shamarra and nearly
as tall as Torack.  She wore her auburn hair long, shimmering down her back
like a red waterfall against the shimmering greens of her clothing.  Her
face would likely be beautiful if not for the stern set of her mouth and the
way her eyes had narrowed to look at the boy.  She carried something gold
and metallic in her hands which she handed to Ali before stepping up in
front of Shamarra.

"I am Lady Reyna," she said in a cold, flat voice.  "but for all intents and
purposes, I am your Mistress and you are my slave.  It is my duty to teach
you the things you need to know in order to survive.  The sooner you learn,
the sooner you will gain what passes for freedom in the harem.  The better
you learn, the better your chances are for a long life." She reached up to
pinch Shamarra's cheeks between her thumb and forefinger, and forced him to
look into her eyes.  "The lessons will be hard, little one.  They will be
often humiliating, sometimes painful and always completely outside of your
poor male experience.  But they must be learned and learned quickly.  It is
my tasking to help you, but you will come to believe that my help most often
appears to be cruelty.

So be it, but understand this, little one - only one other person in this
world wants you to succeed more than I want you to succeed."



  Reyna relaxed her grip and a touch of the mischievous nature that had
gotten him into this mess resurfaced.  "Besides me, Mistress Reyna?"

A fleeting smile softened the older woman's features.  "You really think you
want what I am about to do to you, little one?" She asked with sweet venom
dripping from her words.

She watched with hidden pleasure as the child's spine stiffened at her
challenge.  "Yes, Lady, I do.  My life, and more importantly, my Mother's
life hang in the balance.  What you teach, I will learn."

"We shall see, little one, we shall see." She turned to Ali and gestured
toward the mass of golden cloth and metal.



  Ali knelt and took each of Shamarra's feet in turn and put them into
obvious leg holes in what now appeared to be some type of short pants.  Once
he had both feet into their respective leg, Ali banded her ankles with
straps matching the ones on her wrists that were chained to eye-bolts seated
in the floor.  Rising, he stepped back to permit Torack and Reyna free rein.

Reyna slipped the garment up Shamarra's legs.  Whatever it was, there was a
large hole in the back.  The front of it was a metallic plate with small
grating directly in the center of the plate.



  Reyna held the plate up near Shamarra's groin and Torack took hold of her
genitals.  A soft cylinder of satin was pulled over the trunk of her penis
and laced tightly about the stem.  A belt connected to the satin device
pulled her manhood back and between her legs, where a metal tube, integral
to the inside of the plate was fitted to the glans.

Reyna then pulled the device the rest of the way up, above Shamarra's hips.
"Now, Ali." she ordered.  Ali began turning a large wheel, and the chains
holding Shamarra's wrists began to rise.  It was all Shamarra could do not
to scream as the tension in her arms and wrists increased.

Reyna moved behind Shamarra and began to lace up the girdle that extended to
just below her ribs.  When she had the silk laces as tight as she could
manage, heavy belts were pulled around Shamarra's shrunken waist and pulled
even tighter.  Reyna then tightened the lacing again before proclaiming
herself satisfied.  The belts were removed and the tension released.

Shamarra felt like she was cut in two.  Breathing was nearly impossible -
deep breaths certainly were.  "Come with me, girl." Reyna ordered
imperiously.  She led the way back into the main clinic to a large mirrored
wall.

Shamarra looked at herself in disbelief.  From the ribs down, she looked
like a female.  The girdle looked like a woman's chastity belt, covering the
evidence of her masculinity with the grated metal plate, but leaving her
bottom round and bare.  The top of the garment had taken at least a
hand-span off her waist and given her the illusion of womanly hips.  An
illusion that was assisted by the design of the girdle which padded her hips
and made them even more rounded.  A clicking sound behind her caught
Shamarra's attention and had her spinning her back to the mirror.  Reyna had
affixed a small golden lock to the back of the belt where the waist belt and
the belt between her legs met.

"There are only two keys to that lock, little one.  For now, I have one and
the Sultana has the other.  If I ever see you without that lock, I will take
you immediately to the Sultana and you will die.  Do you understand?"

Swallowing hard, Shamarra nodded.  "I understand, Mistress."



  Frowning momentarily, Reyna gave a curt nod.  "A good first effort.  We
still need another hand-span off that waist of yours, but you have
potential.  Ali, take her to her quarters and have her fed.  Tomorrow, we
will start the lessons in earnest." With that, she spun on her slippered
heel and left the room, a thoroughly befuddled Shamarra gaping after her.



The Sultana's Apartment.


The four conspirators sat in the Sultana's private apartment.



  "The boy is asleep?" Leisha asked.

"*She*" Reyna answered with emphasis, "is exhausted from her experiences in
the dungeon and in Tormack's office.  She fell asleep almost instantly -
even in that tortuous belt you had built." A devilish grin lit her face.
"It certainly cut down on her appetite."

Leisha turned her eyes to the physician.  "And his health.  .  .  as well as
other factors?"

Torack opened his notes.  "He is a healthy, if underdeveloped boy.  If I did
not know he was sixteen, I would have put his age closer to ten or eleven
because of his slight frame and lack of body hair.  He is, however, sexually
maturing.  He erects, although his equipment is on the small side, and he
does manualize himself regularly to ejaculation."

A sly grin lit the Sultana's face.  "Then our appliance will cause him some
...  discomfort?"

"Yes." the young physician replied.  "I think the Lady Reyna can count upon
sexual tension assisting her in some of the more feminine training you have
planned.  You will have to go slowly when you initially begin putting him .
."

Lady Reyna interrupted.  "Her.  We too must think of the child as female.
We are all at risk in this conspiracy.  Shamarra is not the only one who
faces the Imperial Executioner if word of this gets into the wrong ears."

The Sultana nodded and gestured for Torack to continue.  "When you begin
putting HER to cock training of any type.  Her bottom is very tight, but
quite elastic and her gag reflex does appear trainable."

"And Shamarra's appearance?" The Sultana asked.

"The girdle does its work well, Lady." answered Reyna.  "It smooths her
front, rounds her hips, shrinks her waist and presents her bottom most
prettily.  Her skin, face and hair need much effort, but she should be
lovely.  My one concern is her lack of a bosom." She turned her head to
Torack.

"I have found nothing that really does grow breasts, Lady.Every magician and
charlatan healer has something guaranteed to round out a woman's figure, but
none of those really work and most of them are all but deadly.  Outside of
massage techniques to attempt to redistribute what fat the child has into
her chest, there is nothing I can recommend."

"Ali, you are an excellent masseur.  Do what you can with the girl.  Be as
severe as you can be without permanently hurting her, but see if you cannot
give her at least a temporary shape.  It would also be useful to know how
long the shape will last." Her longtime friend and protector nodded
solemnly.

That solved, She turned back to Torack.  "And the other tool we will need?"

"Almost complete, Lady.  We are testing it with thick syrups now.  I think
we can guarantee the sowing part will work.  Whether the sown seeds will
germinate and grow, I cannot say unless we test it."

That statement shocked everyone.  Finally, the Sultana Valideh regained
partial control of her voice and whispered.  "Test it?  As in, to see if we
can actually cause a ...  a.  ." her voice failed her again.

Torack nodded, understanding what she could not say.  "Yes, tested fully.
Unless we completely test every aspect of our plan to the fullest extent, we
are taking great risks for no certain gain."

"But that would mean that we would need..." she struggled for the words.
"Seed" the word came out in an explosion of sound.  "And...  a safe place to
sow it."

"Just so, my Lady."

The audacity of the young eunuch appalled and fascinated Leisha.  Still, she
mused, he had the right of it.  "I will give it due consideration.  Allah
knows we have no shortage of fertile furrows for our purpose, although
finding a SAFE one poses some difficulties.  The real problem is obtaining
the seed without anyone knowing we have done it." She frowned.

"Well, nothing to be done until Torack finishes his testing.  Reyna will
have a long day ahead of her.  I suggest we call it a night."

Selim, or rather Shamarra (it was so difficult to think of him, no, make
that HERself by that name) awoke slowly.  Dawn's first light crept long
shadows into the luxuriously appointed cell he had been taken after being
locked into the gold girdle.  An injudiciously deep breath reminded him
forcefully of that experience, making his ribs all but creak against the
crushing grip.

Shamarra rolled to her side and was surprised to find that she was not alone
in the bed.  Lady Reyna, looking surprisingly young and beautiful without
her jewelry and cosmetics was quietly snoring beside him...  HER on the
large couch.  She lay there, watching the older woman sleep until her body
reminded her, quite forcibly, of the need to eliminate bodily wastes.

Carefully, so as to not awaken the other woman, Shamarra slipped out of the
pillowed bed and began to search for the facilities.  She found the chamber
pot hidden in a small alcove off the sleeping chamber behind a beaded
curtain.  That did not solve all of her problems.  She could not figure out
to do the deed, since the metal girdle prevented her from taking matters "in
hand" and aiming.

A soft, husky chuckle behind her made her start with surprise.  "I see we
forgot to tell you a few things, little one.  The tube into which your
lingam is inserted will pass the urine out the front grating of the belt,
just like any other woman's chastity device would."

Shamarra flushed brightly, and would have tried to wait for the older woman
to leave, but she had simply gone too long without relief.  Gingerly, she
moved to straddle the large pot, but was hauled up short when a surprisingly
strong hand gripped her shoulders and spun her about just before she could
release the flow.  "Women sit, little one." Reyna said with soft emphasis
before she pressed the girl down to sit on the seat built onto the pot.



  Only the intensified agony of having been stopped JUST short at the last
possible instant overcame her shame at being watched by someone.  A loud
gurgling sound, ringing from the metal pot, loudly announced the onset of
relief.  "Very good, dear." Reyna said.  "And as for the other matter, the
girdle leaves your bottom free and unimpeded for that function." Then her
voice turned sly.  "And for several more you have never had occasion to
learn...  .  .  until now, that is.  Finish your business and call me.  I
will start teaching you female hygiene as soon as you have completed the
other, then we will break our fast and begin your lessons."



Repose and Review


The satin pillowed sleeping chamber had been long dark when Reyna had
finally permitted her pupil to go to her bed.  Shamarra was intensely
grateful for the soft, womb-like comfort of the cushioned bed as she sank
bonelessly under thecovers.  Every muscle in her body ached, and muscles she
had never been aware of having before hurt.  After she'd finished her
morning eliminations, Reyna had taken her back to the suspension chains and
tightened the girdle again before permitting Shamarra to break her fast.
"After all, little one, you have just emptied yourself - an ideal time to
help your shaping." Reyna had said in that sly tone of hers.  It had also
left Shamarra little room for food in her stomach which Reyna thought was
another fine thing.

The entire long day had been spent learning "how to be a woman", or at
least, "how to be a woman in a harem".  She had spent hours simply learning
how to move her body, her arms, her hands; how to dance; how to hold her



                                  1

-- 
+--------------' Story submission `-+-' Moderator contact `------------+
| story-submit@qz.little-neck.ny.us | story-admin@qz.little-neck.ny.us |
| Archive site +--------------------+------------------+ Newsgroup FAQ |
\ <URL:http://www.netusa.net/~eli/erotica/assm/>    .../assm/faq.html> /