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He looked at me. Best strike now, I thought, so I filled the silence.
‘You know the Rus are meditating rebellion, and if their gold prevails with the Khan, is this the time to provoke him, Majesty. I would not have you suffer the fate of Harold, the Saxon Padishah.’
He looked at me and laughed out loud.
‘And who is this Harold that I should be mindful of him?’
It was an old story, one I had from my grandmama, who said there was a family legend that our remote ancestress was involved with the tale. Sveltlana, the Rus, had told me more, for her ancestors were Vangarians who had fled to Rus long ago to escape the Normans.
‘It is a tale of heroism, Highness, but there is in it a caution.’
‘Tell it to me, little one, sit at my side, and tell me how it concerns me.’
Taking a little juice, I sat, cross-legged and told him the tale. I spoke of how the Saxon king was strong and bold, but how had allowed two enemies to gather, one to harry him in the north, the other in the south. I told him how the great warrior had slain the king of the Northmen, and his own treacherous brother, before marching south to face the Bastard. I recounted how, instead of gathering his strength, Harold had struck at once, had been struck by an arrow, and fallen. With him had fallen the House of Cerdic.
The Padishah listened intently. I knew only the bare bones, but where necessary, added parts from the story of Arthur, and Achilles. All the great stories are part of the one great narrative. It was a tale fit for such a warrior as Mehmet.
‘So, great Padishah, by all means, send the Khan a bowstring, but wait a while. Perhaps, instead, a fine jewel for sending you such a curiosity?’
He laughed, a great heaving laugh.
‘At first, I thought you a changeling, then a bard, and now you are my little Vizier, when I have, already, a Grand one. But tell me, kitten, whence comes this story about the Rus?’
‘Svetlana’s father is high in the counsels of the Prince of Muscovy, and while you were taking an interest in her anus, I listened to her stories.’
He stared at me. He exploded with laughter, picking me up and holding me in the air, so he could look sincan escort me in the eye.
‘You please me, little one. You have spirit. But I need my pleasure.’
‘Well, great Majesty, I would please you, but doubt my capacity.’
Putting me down, he smiled.
‘What have you in mind? There was a strange emphasis on the word “my” in those words.’
‘Your Majesty is too wise for such a kitten. I simply had in mind Svetlana, who wishes to please you, and is better equipped than me.’
Taking down my harem pants, I spread my legs for him.
‘Majesty, your great sword would split such a small scabbard, and little pleasure would be had from that.’
Turning, I presented my anus.
And the same here, Majesty. I would take you in my mouth, but it is congress with a more curvaceous body you seek.’
He looked at me as though I was the most curious thing he had ever seen.
‘But here is a thing unheard. The women of the Seraglio fight for the right to lie with me, never have I heard a woman suggest I take another. Besides, Svetlana will not be prepared.’
‘Great Padishah, she prepares every night as though she might be summoned. She is enraptured by your manliness.’
‘That is good to hear, kitten, but she will need intimate preparation, I like my women wet for me.’
I blushed and smiled.
‘Well, Majesty, there I may well be of service to your manhood.’
Had I gone too far? I had been carried away by my success so far, but was this a misstep?
‘And how, pray, my kitten, can you help there?’
‘Pardon me, Great One, but perhaps a woman such as I could use her kitten’s tongue to make Svetlana wet for you?’
This was it. I was for it now, but instead of scowling, he smiled.
‘I have heard you serve my mother in that way. No, do not start, little one, I know more than you think. It would not be fitting for the widow of the Padishah to mate with another man, but she has a woman’s needs, and I am content they should be fulfilled as they are. You are a good girl.’
I was flabbergasted. I would never underestimate him again.
‘So would you send for Svetlana, highness?’
He çankaya escort did so.
I took a sip of pomegranate juice, sweetened with spices. I smiled at him. He patted me on the head.
‘You are the most curious creature. I shall do as you suggest with the Khan. Find out what you can. I suspect people talk without caution in your presence. You know you will be mocked by some when you return? There will be no blood upon the sheets.’
‘Highness, that I can take, give it out that you see me as your little pet, that I amuse and entertain you. No one will be jealous of that, and anyone who wishes to mock me is more than welcome. I exist only to serve you.’
I smiled, caressing his face.
‘You are a sorceress, my little one, and your charms bewitch me, not just as a man, but as a ruler. I will use you in many ways. I should like more of your stories.’
I blushed, becomingly, I hoped.
Svetlana was brought in. My heart stopped. Arrayed for the Sultan, she could have stopped my heart at a hundred paces. Her breasts were displayed to full advantage in the muslin dress she wore – if wore was the word for something which revealed her breasts, her mound and her bottom. The Sultan gasped, as well he might.
She was five foot eight, her breasts full, her nipples swollen, and her hips wide, leading down to shapely legs. If I was struggling for breath, it was no wonder he was, too. She looked radiant. Her long red hair fell to her waist, and her deep blue eyes were shining, she looked the perfect mixture of Amazon and seductress. I could see, rather obviously, that she was having the effect on the Sultan that I had signally failed to have.
I realised I had a dilemma. If I went to work on her with my usual expertise, he would realise something had been going on, and as he cherished my innocence, it would not do to play the harlot.
I explained to her, in Russian, what he wanted, explaining to him that it was easier to convey meaning in her own tongue; he accepted the lie.
She smiled, as she lay on the couch.
I told him that it would be best if he watched, but I promised him something special if he did.
She eryaman escort lay, her legs apart, and I crawled between her thighs. Hesitantly, I breathed upon her wetness, my tongue taking small, kitten-type licks at her womanhood. Her bud stiffened to my touch, and she moaned. I heard another groan from behind me. I was conscious that my own backside was on display, but doubted it was that which was arousing the Padishah.
I went to my task. My broad tongue lapped from her anus up to her bud, dipping between her lips. I parted her petals with my fingers, opening her up. The moan behind me was louder. I moved my fingers around as I licked her, parting her, making her wider for him. My tongue lingered in the neglected area between her anus and her sex, and my kitten licks made her moan.
I made a tube of my tongue so that, pushing through her petals, I could worm my way into the tangy wetness of the entrance to her sex. Pushing in, my nose rubbing her bud, I pressed in, rubbing my whole face on her wetness. She gripped me to her. I pulled away.
‘Majesty, she is ready.’ I smiled, my face wet with her.
‘By the blood of Otho, I want her, and NOW!’
Rampant, he took her.
I swiftly got out of the way. If I had timed it right, the result should seal my fate.
And I had.
He wanted her so badly he could not hold himself, but she was so close to orgasm that she came as he did, her limbs stiffening, her wetness clear on her thighs; she moaned as loudly as he did. He buried himself in her.
I smiled.
Pulling away, he spoke.
‘I have had many women, but never like that, what did you do to her, you little sorceress.’
I explained to him about how women could be stimulated so that they would explode as men did. He looked at me curiously, but did not ask the question which had been forming. He just smiled.
‘She was open and wet, and you brought her to perfection, just for me?’
‘Yes, Majesty.’
By this stage, Svetlana had recovered, and was caressing him.
‘Majesty, I should like to arouse you more.’
He smiled and caressed her.
‘I think, Majesty, it is time for your kitten to withdraw.’
They both smiled at me. He nodded. I withdrew.
There may have been no blood on the Sultan’s couch that night, but the linen would need changing, for sure.
So, I had survived my night in the inner chamber. Was I, I wondered, the only virgo intacta to emerge from that place?
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