In good time Madi ... what can I say? ... I have gotten side-tracked. Hang my head in shame ...
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Constantinople
- Thread starter Barbaria1
- Start date
In good time Madi ... what can I say? ... I have gotten side-tracked. Hang my head in shame ...
Not ashamed Barb! At the age we are all increasingly forgetful.
RacingRodent
Consul
Thanks for yet another gentle nudge Madi ... I love the fact that this guy is so gentle ... he never uses a whip
... yes, it was a good story and it is unfinished. Siss and I really do need to attend to this! And soon, before Madi does get out a whip! One thing, though, Madi. On the last manip, Barb does not do tattoos. Can you remove it?
Over one year later.....Thanks for yet another gentle nudge Madi ... I love the fact that this guy is so gentle ... he never uses a whip
I must see.
ok?Thanks for yet another gentle nudge Madi ... I love the fact that this guy is so gentle ... he never uses a whip
"YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS" ... I scream as Madi follows the lash with the command, "Now shut up and write!"
But she hear not on me..... just the kind of hints a girl needs!
restarting this story at Messa's and Madiosi's urging
14
After dark, 31 May 1453
We are ushered into the inner sanctum ... sumptuously decorated, a chamber equipped to offer every conceivable luxury ... and duly presented before the waiting Sultan Mehmet.
Nudged by the Captain of the Guard, Adelfi and I hasten to prostrate ourselves. We fall to our knees and lean forward, as we had been taught, until our foreheads come to rest on the coldness of the polished stone floor. Arms outstretched, rumps in the air, our torsos aligned in perfect symmetry, silken garments parting and sliding from our backs, waists and hips, we await our master's command.
He rises from the cushions on which he had been reclining, walks over and circles us twice, then after a pause ... a third time.
My eyes surreptitiously track his progress, taking in his powerfully muscular arms and chest. He wears nothing from the waist up. A gold medallion adorns his chest. His face is hard, with high cheekbones, and steely dark eyes that dart from side to side, and then fix you and hold you fast in an almost hypnotic gaze. A pointed beard covers his chin, and flowing long dark hair cascades over his shoulders. Loosely flowing pantaloons cover his legs, and an ornately jeweled codpiece his crotch.
"What do you think he expects us to do next?" whispers Adelfi.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I hiss.
Completing his third circling, he halts, crouches before us and places the palm of a hand on each of our heads.
"Arise!" he intones, the ring of princely authority resonating through his deep baritone voice.
Slowly, in unison, we heed his command ... moving firstly to a kneeling position, hands steepled before us. Then as gracefully as we can manage, taking care to maintain our balance, we rise to our feet while self-consciously smoothing our silken gowns with our hands.
Stepping aside, Mehmet points to the cushions and raises his eyebrows expectantly.
"I think he wants us to make ourselves comfortable," I say, scooping up a handful of fruits and nuts from a bowl as I settle myself into the folds of a cushion.
"I think he intends for us to provide all the comfort," smirks Adelfi as she sashays past the Sultan while provocatively slipping her sheer white garment from her shoulders, and stepping entirely free of it.
Looking up, I see that he has come near and stands arms akimbo, studying us intently from above.
"Not much of a talker, is he?" I remark to Adelfi.
"When you are Sultan, you can do as you please," she observes.
"Uh oh," I whisper, noting that he has removed his gilded codpiece.
Reaching out to me, he grasps my arm and pulls me to my feet. I glance nervously back at Adelfi, who still reclines on a cushion, as he strips me naked with one hand and massages his exposed rising member with the other.
"I am not going to suck that thing!" I mutter under my breath.
"On your knees, slave!" he growls.
"See! He can speak when he wants to," I tell her.
But before I can say or do anything more, he spins me about, propels me toward a waiting cushion on the other side of the room. There he presses me to my knees, my chest and outstretched arms resting on the cushion.
His hot hands slither up and down my sides, playing over my ribs and gently brushing the sides of my bulging breasts. I feel him positioning himself behind me on his knees. He plants kisses up and down my spine, kneading my breasts with his hands, and then slides one hand, digit extended, under my tummy and down between my thighs to finger my clit.
Satisfied that I am ready and eager to do the deed, he straightens up and grips my hips with both hands. I feel his throbbing member poking at my ass cheeks. I know what is coming next, and gird myself for the inevitable penetrating thrust.
He misses on his first try, sliding harmlessly up and over. But is quick to recover for a second thrust.
Quickly, I look up and off to my left, hoping for moral support from Adelfi, but she has vanished.
My attention returns to my plight. This time I know he will not miss. I can feel the threatening tip of his phallus pressing against my portal .... and his iron grip on my hips tightening ... but then ... suddenly releasing as a loud "gong" echoes across the chamber.
He falls away. I turn about to look. The Sultan is sprawled out on the floor, face down, apparently unconscious.
Adelfi stands over him, gripping one of the large bronze shields that decorate the walls.
"Hurry!" she urges, extending a hand. "We haven't much time to make good our escape!"
TO BE CONTINUED
14
After dark, 31 May 1453
We are ushered into the inner sanctum ... sumptuously decorated, a chamber equipped to offer every conceivable luxury ... and duly presented before the waiting Sultan Mehmet.
Nudged by the Captain of the Guard, Adelfi and I hasten to prostrate ourselves. We fall to our knees and lean forward, as we had been taught, until our foreheads come to rest on the coldness of the polished stone floor. Arms outstretched, rumps in the air, our torsos aligned in perfect symmetry, silken garments parting and sliding from our backs, waists and hips, we await our master's command.
He rises from the cushions on which he had been reclining, walks over and circles us twice, then after a pause ... a third time.
My eyes surreptitiously track his progress, taking in his powerfully muscular arms and chest. He wears nothing from the waist up. A gold medallion adorns his chest. His face is hard, with high cheekbones, and steely dark eyes that dart from side to side, and then fix you and hold you fast in an almost hypnotic gaze. A pointed beard covers his chin, and flowing long dark hair cascades over his shoulders. Loosely flowing pantaloons cover his legs, and an ornately jeweled codpiece his crotch.
"What do you think he expects us to do next?" whispers Adelfi.
"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh" I hiss.
Completing his third circling, he halts, crouches before us and places the palm of a hand on each of our heads.
"Arise!" he intones, the ring of princely authority resonating through his deep baritone voice.
Slowly, in unison, we heed his command ... moving firstly to a kneeling position, hands steepled before us. Then as gracefully as we can manage, taking care to maintain our balance, we rise to our feet while self-consciously smoothing our silken gowns with our hands.
Stepping aside, Mehmet points to the cushions and raises his eyebrows expectantly.
"I think he wants us to make ourselves comfortable," I say, scooping up a handful of fruits and nuts from a bowl as I settle myself into the folds of a cushion.
"I think he intends for us to provide all the comfort," smirks Adelfi as she sashays past the Sultan while provocatively slipping her sheer white garment from her shoulders, and stepping entirely free of it.
Looking up, I see that he has come near and stands arms akimbo, studying us intently from above.
"Not much of a talker, is he?" I remark to Adelfi.
"When you are Sultan, you can do as you please," she observes.
"Uh oh," I whisper, noting that he has removed his gilded codpiece.
Reaching out to me, he grasps my arm and pulls me to my feet. I glance nervously back at Adelfi, who still reclines on a cushion, as he strips me naked with one hand and massages his exposed rising member with the other.
"I am not going to suck that thing!" I mutter under my breath.
"On your knees, slave!" he growls.
"See! He can speak when he wants to," I tell her.
But before I can say or do anything more, he spins me about, propels me toward a waiting cushion on the other side of the room. There he presses me to my knees, my chest and outstretched arms resting on the cushion.
His hot hands slither up and down my sides, playing over my ribs and gently brushing the sides of my bulging breasts. I feel him positioning himself behind me on his knees. He plants kisses up and down my spine, kneading my breasts with his hands, and then slides one hand, digit extended, under my tummy and down between my thighs to finger my clit.
Satisfied that I am ready and eager to do the deed, he straightens up and grips my hips with both hands. I feel his throbbing member poking at my ass cheeks. I know what is coming next, and gird myself for the inevitable penetrating thrust.
He misses on his first try, sliding harmlessly up and over. But is quick to recover for a second thrust.
Quickly, I look up and off to my left, hoping for moral support from Adelfi, but she has vanished.
My attention returns to my plight. This time I know he will not miss. I can feel the threatening tip of his phallus pressing against my portal .... and his iron grip on my hips tightening ... but then ... suddenly releasing as a loud "gong" echoes across the chamber.
He falls away. I turn about to look. The Sultan is sprawled out on the floor, face down, apparently unconscious.
Adelfi stands over him, gripping one of the large bronze shields that decorate the walls.
"Hurry!" she urges, extending a hand. "We haven't much time to make good our escape!"
TO BE CONTINUED
Put it in your diaries.... expected on June 26th, 2019....
Yay! Nicely done, Adelfi!
Now, why do I think that Adelfi might have wanted to think this through a bit more?
"BaDOOING!!" 
You have to admire her initiative.
Now run! The Sultan and Co. are not going to like this.Splendid re-start!!!
suddenly releasing as a loud "gong" echoes across the chamber.
I though Barb had one of those brass diaphragms...
I though Barb had one of those brass diaphragms...
LittleSiss
Sorceress
LittleSiss
Sorceress
Put it in your diaries.... expected on June 26th, 2019....
Yay! Nicely done, Adelfi!
Siss and Barb could take much longer.
Comedy is so much more difficult to write.