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From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: RP: The Sultan's Heir 1 of 6 (TG, Femdom, Historical)
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The Sultan's Heir
by Tigger
copyright 1997 All Rights reserved

Archiving/reposting permitted provided that: 

This attribution to me as author, and this disclaimer remains
intact;

*NO* fee of any type is charged for access to *any* part of
the archiving site.

Use of this story for financial gain, such as using it in a
published anthology or selling it is prohibited by my
copyright.

Part 1: Last Dawn; First Morning

Dawn was breaking over the River Bosporus as the small figure
crept through the shadows to the vine covered wall.  A quick
check of his surroundings satisfied him that he was alone and
undetected.  With agility and grace, he scaled the wall and
then moved quickly into the limbs of the large tree that
should have been pruned away from this wall.  He had dressed
carefully for this day's activities, dispensing with the white
robes in favor of darker greens and browns that would make him
all but invisible as he huddled in his special hiding place,
surrounded by the thick, leafy foliage of the tree.

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

A momentary flash of light from the door caught his attention,
but the cause was already gone before he could turn and focus
on it.  Fear coiled in his guts.  There was no doubt that he
was going to die.  Men who defiled the harem of the Sultan
died long, slow horrible deaths.  Who would take care of his
Mother, he thought bleakly.  Should have thought of that
before trying to prove how brave he was, his conscience
chided.  Now, it was too late.
The curtain unfurled and two shadowed figures loomed in the
suddenly bright entryway.  A woman dressed in magnificent
court robes entered first, followed by a tall, muscular, bare
chested black man who carried a vicious looking scimitar.  She
gracefully settled into the magnificent chair while the man
took up a position to one side of the Lady, and between her
and the boy.  The boy realized that the man could cut him in
half with that blade and not move a step from where he'd
positioned himself.

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

She was a handsome woman, older than his mother, but still
slender and vigorous.  Her ebony hair was shot with tendrils
of silver that flashed in the uncertain light of the room.  A
large ruby glittered in her hairpiece and was matched by other
stones dangling from her ears and about her neck and arms. 
"We must talk, young man." she said grimly.  She turned her
eyes to the guard.  "Ali, ungag him."

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

A soft chuckle from the woman brought him back.  "Unless you
want Ali to remove the remainder of the gag in the same
manner, I suggest you spit out the wadding in your mouth."
He'd have swallowed if he'd had any spit to do it with.  The
wad was large and his mouth was very dry because of it, so it
took several tries, but it finally joined the strap in his
bared lap.  "What is your name, boy, and how old are you?"
Leisha snapped out at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

A week later.

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

After 20 years together, she knew better than to offer him a
seat, so she merely smiled her greeting to him.  "It went
well?" she asked.
A look of pure satisfaction glittered in his eyes.  "Indeed it
did, Mistress.  The Sultan's executioner exceeded even his
reputation for sadism with the two thieves we watched
dispatched.  Also, it was not lost on the lad that they lasted
far less time than the days and days you promised him.  As for
the emasculation, that too went very well for us.  One of the
boys spurted blood quite magnificently when cut.  And the
burying of the boys in the dung pile afterwards was also
effective.  It was quite . . . pungent that day from the
heat."

"The boy who bled.  He will live?"

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

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

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

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

"When do you want the boy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

End part 1


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