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From: tigger@alices.com (Tigger)
Subject: RP: The Sutlan's Heir 2 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 2: Back to the Womb

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

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

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

With great effort, the boy levered himself upright, but stayed
on his knees, as much because he doubted his ability to stand
as anything else.  "Ali tells me you have seen two of your
choices."  Wearily, the boy nodded.  "I will now explain part
of what will be required of you if you accept the third
option.  I need a man to become a woman."  

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yes, Mistress."

"What is your name?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


The Sultana's Apartment.

The four conspirators sat in the Sultana's private apartment. 
"The boy is asleep?" Leisha asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Just so, my Lady."

The audacity of the young eunuch appalled and fascinated
Leisha.  Still, she mused, he had the right of it.  "I will
give it due consideration.  Allah knows we have no shortage of
fertile furrows for our purpose, although finding a *safe* one
poses some difficulties.  The real problem is obtaining the
seed without anyone knowing we have done it." She frowned. 
"Well, nothing to be done until Torack finishes his testing. 
Reyna will have a long day ahead of her.  I suggest we call it
a night."

End Part 2


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