The Sultan's Favorite Boy, Part 3 by Bill
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: If you have not read the earlier episodes, this is a story set in the year 1618 and is reasonably historically accurate. It's an account of the powerful Ottoman Empire and it's tradition of manning a highly-effective standing army - called the Janissaries - with slaves taken as boys from the subjugated Christian regions of the Balkans. This form of slavery was unusual, in that the Janissaries had many privileges and wielded substantial political power. Many parents were happy to see their sons move up to the better life that service as a Janissary provided. History tells us that in the 15th through 17th centuries, 20% of the boys in the Balkan region were taken away in this manner.]
Salim awoke to the sound of birds announcing the approaching dawn. The morning air chilled his face, but his naked body was warm beneath two blankets, with two wool cloaks spread on top. And the additional warmth of an equally-naked boy beside him brought a rush of pleasant memories from the night before. Salim's 9-year-old cousin Damir lay with his back snuggled tightly against the older boy's chest... his slender ass pressing against Salim's morning erection.
With his arm already draped over the youngster's chest, the 11- year-old brought his lips down to Damir's neck and kissed the younger boy gently. Salim breathed deeply of the boy's scent, and his hips pressed forward almost involuntarily. Salim's penis often began the morning in stiff erection, but this was the first time he had awakened with his 4-inch cock lodged in the crack of a boy's ass.
Salim knew he should get up and put on his new uniform... he needed to go over to the woods and pee, for one thing... and he was eager to start his first full day as a Janissary cadet in service to the sultan. But he found it impossible to let go of Damir. Last night they had kissed and caressed each other, and then they had sucked each other's cocks -- only the second boy whose penis Salim had ever pleasured with his mouth. Salim's hand moved lightly down Damir's body, sliding along his smooth thigh, reaching between his legs. The soft little-boy penis twitched as his fingertip played with the nozzle-end of the foreskin. In moments the boycock was rigidly erect... no bigger in length or girth than Salim's finger, but delightfully erotic all the same.
Salim's hand moved to fondle his cousin's balls... the size of small grapes and wrapped in a pouch of the softest skin. Again he kissed Damir's neck. As his hips thrust forward once more, an erotic shudder ran through his body. Another thrust.... Yes! It felt so good! Salim's cock was held snugly between the boy's warm ass cheeks, and each time he pushed his hips forward, his bare cockhead emerged from its covering of foreskin to burrow upwards into thesilky cleft. And each time he did it, his body demanded that he thrust again... and again.
"Mmmm.... It feels nice when you do that, cousin!" whispered Damir, as he awakened fully.
The older boy wrapped his arms around the youngster's chest and said in a gentle voice "It feels good for me too. Shall I do it some more?"
"OK," chirped the 9-year-old. "How about if I lie on my tummy?" Not waiting for an answer, he rolled onto his stomach -- bringing Salim with him -- and spread his legs a bit. Then he looked back over his shoulder at Salim and smiled.
Salim kissed his cheek and resumed the pleasure he had been pursuing only moments before. The older boy moved his hips in an instinctive rhythm as Damir lay prone beneath him, his head resting on his forearms, a blissful smile on his lips.
"Oh, Daniil...." whispered Salim, using Damir's Bosnian name. Salim was delighted to have found yet another way to induce the magic of sexual pleasure -- one he had never tried with his best friend Havel (although the two of them had rubbed together front- to-front before, to a thoroughly enjoyable effect). The thrusting became faster... more urgent. Staccato bursts of barely audible pleasure-noise issued from Salim's throat... half-grunt, half- sign. His breathing grew ragged as the lust continued building in his crotch. And in a moment, Salim attained his goal... the now- familiar thrill of prepubescent orgasm. As the wonderful feelings rushed through his body, Salim collapsed atop his cousin's back.
Just then, a man's voice spoke... from right next to where the boys lay. "Ah, a good fuck first thing in the morning..."
Salim quickly rolled off and looked up to see a tall Janissary sergeant gazing down at them. "I'm sorry, sir! We... uh... I..."
"Save your apology, boy. You did nothing wrong." Then he laughed and said: "It's like the old saying: 'A Janissary makes love to his comrade at dawn; slays five enemy soldiers on the battlefield before mid-day; rapes their virgin daughters before sunset; and is back in his comrade's embrace at nightfall.' You've got the first part accomplished. A shame you won't have a chance at the next two for a few more years."
And then, in a loud voice, the sergeant announced to the entire camp "Alright lads; on your feet and get dressed."
After the blanket-covered lumps began to stir, he added "Grab your plates and fill your stomachs at the cooking pot. We have some long marches in the next few days, and then it's on to Istanbul."
"Istanbul!" The word echoed from several boys' mouths at once. It was the great capital of the Ottoman Empire... better known throughout the western world as Constantinople. The excitement was palpable as the boys quickly dressed in the cold mountain air.
As they were milling around in line for breakfast, one boy called out to a friend using the other lad's Bosnian name. The tall sergeant strode over and smacked the offender on the back of his head with a open palm... so hard it almost knocked him over. A hush fell over the camp.
"You all have new names. Good Muslim names. Learn them and use them."
Salim breathed a sigh of relief that it was not he who had been punished. He had used Damir's old name just minutes before.
Every one of the soldiers in the camp had once been a Christian boy, just like these new recruits, and each was now a Muslim. Renaming was the first step in the process of encouraging the boys to give up their infidel beliefs.
With a plate of thick hot mush balanced on his lap, Salim sat with a circle of boys who were describing what bits of information they had heard about Istanbul... its enormous ornate buildings; its wondrous bazaars with goods from all over the world; a mix of all the exotic, diverse people of the Empire. Then Salim noticed a jovial group emerge from the trees, heading for the cooking pot. There were eight soldiers and two boys -- a familiar 13-year-old, now named Latif, and a boy of similar age named Tamir. This was the group whose steamy orgy Salim had stumbled upon the previous night. Salim noticed that Latif seemed to be walking a bit awkwardly, though he was laughing along with the others. A handsome young soldier had his arm draped around Latif's shoulder and ruffled the boy's shaggy blond hair as he would a favorite younger brother. As they drew closer, the soldier looked over at Salim and smiled, then whispered something in Latif's ear. After the cook ladled a portion of mush onto Latif's plate, he came over to where Salim sat.
"My friend... will you sit with me in a place where we can talk?" said Latif.
Salim stood up, and the two boys moved to the edge of the bustling campsite. They had grown up in neighboring villages and had always been friendly, though not close friends.
"Latif... I was a little worried about you last night," said Salim as they sat down beneath a tree "You seemed distressed. Are you OK?"
Latif's face showed a moment of turmoil, but then he smiled and said. "I had a great time, Salim. It was fantastic! I wish you had stayed and joined us. My new friends would really like to have you share their campsite... and their fun. Maybe tonight?"
"I don't think so, Latif. I need to look after my young cousin. And I'm not yet ready to, um.... Latif, when I left last night, it looked like one of the soldiers was about to... to fuck you. Did it cause you pain?" Commander Mustafa had warned Salim that the penetration of a man's cock in a boy's bottom hole could be quite painful.
"Not at all! They used this oil that made their cocks slide right into me. It was only the last of them -- that tall guy over there..." Latif motioned with his head toward a big soldier with broad shoulders and a powerful chest. "He was the last of them to fuck me. He has the parts of a horse, and I guess I was a little sore after he shot his seed into me." What Latif left unstated was that he was already sore from multiple penetrations when the tall soldier first thrust his thick 9-inch cock into the boy's rectum... that it was only by clamping his teeth on the thick sleeve of his uniform shirt that Latif kept from crying out in pain... and that he went to sleep with a throbbing ache in his bowels that still bothered him when he awoke that morning.
"How many of the soldiers did this to you?" asked Salim, not sure if he was understanding the boy correctly.
The older boy blushed a bit, and his face flashed momentarily with the same look of guilt that Salim had seen the previous night when Latif had been interrupted... sucking one soldier and preparing to be fucked by another. But his voice kept its veneer of cheerfulness. "My new friends were much impressed at how well I did. Five of them spurted their seed in my ass last night. I pleasured several of them with my mouth too, but only tasted the seed of one." Latif looked very pleased with himself, adding "The soldiers told me I'm truly their comrade now... they say that Janissaries greatly respect a boy who can take several men, one after another. The other boy with us -- Tamir -- only let two soldiers fuck him before he had to quit. And in the middle of our fun, the soldiers had Tamir and me get in a position to suck each other at the same time, and they took bets on which of us could make the other cum the soonest. And I won! One of the soldiers who wagered on me even gave me this copper mangir!" Latif pulled from his pocket a tiny coin... the smallest denomination of all Ottoman currency. It was the first coin that Latif had ever possessed.
Salim didn't respond at first. The commander had told him that cadets who allowed soldiers to use them in this manner were looked down upon in the Corps of Janissaries.
But when he finally spoke, it was only to satisfy his curiosity and not to offer gratuitous advice about the possible harm to Latif's reputation. "So there was no discomfort when a soldier first penetrated you with his hard cock? I had heard it is painful when a cock enters you the first time.... But you took five men your first time...."
"Salim.... It wasn't... I've been..." Latif paused for a moment, and again his cheeks blushed with embarrassment.
"We won't ever be going back to our villages, so I guess it does no harm to tell you. Besides; I already told my new friends," said Latif. "Last night was not the first time a man has fucked me, Salim. My father.... When I was young, and started going out with my father to spend the night guarding our sheep in the high meadow, he would play with my cock in the sexual way... and get me to play with his. At first, he would have me stroke him until his seed spurted. After a while, he taught me how to give him pleasure with my mouth. And then... I guess I was a bit younger than you... he began to fuck me whenever we went up to the meadow at night. He's a kind man, Salim, and he was always gentle with me. But he told me that these things must always be kept secret. I believed that it was a shameful thing. That's why I was surprised by how open the soldiers are in doing this, not caring whether anyone sees it. They have sex among themselves without shame.... just for the fun and comradeship. And when the soldiers told me how much I had pleased them, it was so much like my father's words... his praise as we lay together after he had given me his seed."
Salim was silent for a time, a mix of feeling bouncing around his brain. Finally, he said "Latif, I'm not sure it's wise to do these things with so many men at once. Why don't you sleep in the boys' camp tonight? Sleep close to Damir and me. OK?"
Now it was Latif who was briefly lost in thought. "Maybe, Salim," he said at last. "Maybe so."
Just then the sergeant called out again. "Time to move out! You cadets put your things in the ox cart for now. You'll learn soon enough how to march with the weight of a pack on your back, but not on this journey.... And remember; no talking during the march."
When the two ox carts were loaded, 14 soldiers and 18 boys headed down the rough dirt track that served as the valley's only real road. The oxen were tended by their owners -- peasants who had hired on for this short recruitment journey. Only the commander rode a horse.
They passed wide around the villages along the way, going well off the road when necessary. These were places they had already visited on previous days, collecting the boy-tax throughout the valley. It wouldn't do any good for the villagers or the new cadets to say their good-byes again. But some people came out of the villages to watch them pass. They stood at a distance, wary of the Janissaries. Only one boy called out from the ranks, shouting anxiously to his weeping mother. A sergeant walking near him pulled his curved scimitar from its scabbard in an instant and brought its razor-sharp tip to the boy's lip, flicking it to draw a dribble of blood onto the blade.
"Do I need to slice the end of your tongue before you obey orders?" said the soldier in a calm but ominous voice.
There was absolute silence in the ranks for the next several hours. The pace was fast, and the younger boys struggled a bit. But the march down-valley was essentially all downhill, so they made good progress. They paused only three times along the way... twice to drink water and rest, and once to take a meal of dried meat, cheese, and bread. At each stop, the time was used to begin teaching them the Turkish language... the official language of the Ottoman Empire.
By late afternoon they were out of the valley... farther than Salim had ever traveled in his life. They kept marching until the sun dipped out of sight, and they set up camp as dusk gave way to twilight. Every boy immediately removed his uncomfortable new boots. They had all grown up going barefoot on all but the coldest days.
At the campsite that evening, some of the boys -- Damir among them -- stretched out on their sleeping pads as soon as they had eaten their dinner, easily slipping into exhausted sleep. Others stayed up to talk around the fire. Soldiers socialized freely with them, but there seemed to be a clear theme to their conversations... they were looking for partners with whom to share pleasures that night.
Salim saw the commander walking back toward his tent with his arm around Tamir. He felt a pang of jealousy, even though he had taken the commander's advice to heart. Indeed, Salim grew weary of being approached by soldiers who asked, either subtly or bluntly, if he was interested in sharing the man's bed that night. But each time he rejected a come-on, it was accepted by the soldier in good spirit... typically with a rejoinder along the lines of "perhaps another time, then."
Salim saw Latif talking to three of the soldiers who had gang- fucked him the night before. As Latif got up to follow the men back to their campfire, he looked over to Salim and motioned with his head as if to say "Come join us."
Salim shook his head, and Latif shrugged as he picked up his sleeping pad and blanket and walked off
Salim stared into the fire, feeling a strangely exciting desire, but also wariness of the men who wished only to penetrate him with their cocks. He kept turning in his brain the word the commander had used in his warning: "bottom-boy".
Among the boys who were still awake, some were pairing up among themselves... undressing, getting under blankets, and lying with their bodies close together. A few were slipping into the woods for more private play. The rest just settled under blankets in solitude to get their sleep. Salim was about to lay down beside the sleeping Damir, but something compelled him to walk to the other side of the encampment in the direction that Latif had gone. The moon was not yet up, but it was not difficult to find the campsite, as the soldiers had stoked the fire to a hearty blaze to warm their activities. Salim stopped at the edge of the clearing, behind a tree just beyond the reach of the fire's light, and watched in silence.
The tableau before him was not unlike that of the night before... raw sexuality being played out to the illumination of flickering firelight. This time there were only three men, and they encircled Latif, taking turns lustily kissing the boy while slowly stripping off his clothing until he was completely nude. The soldiers removed their own pants and undergarments, but left on their bright red wool shirts. Latif was being caressed and fondled by all three men simultaneously, kissing one for a minute, then being turned to accept another's tongue in his mouth.
Though the men's hands guided him and roamed over his body, Latif was hardly passive. The 13-year-old was hungry for their kisses, and plunged his tongue into their mouths with growing excitement. He held a man-cock in each of his hands... switching to stroke a different erection each time he turned to join mouths with a different soldier. His own stiff penis stood up over 5 inches, not much shorter than some of the soldiers' cocks, though not as thick. Salim was a bit disappointed not to see the big soldier Latif had mentioned. The thought of an erection "the size of a horse's" made his senses tingle.
Salim could make out most of what was being said -- sounds of lust for the most part. And, as Latif had mentioned, there were words of flattery for the boy... complimenting his handsome body... speaking of his comradeship within this group of soldiers.
Salim was undeniably aroused, and briefly contemplated stepping into the light to participate in the orgy. The throbbing of his erection drew his hand to the front of his pants... the visual excitement driving his urge to masturbate. Unhooking the belt that held up his pants and untying the waist of his undergarment, Salim now had unfettered access and began stroking his stiff penis and squeezing his balls.
As Salim's stroking fingers drove his senses deeper into the realm of sexual arousal, the soldiers were taking the action to a higher level. One of them -- the handsome young soldier who had been the first at Latif's ass the night before -- was spreading a coating of oil on his cock as he stood behind the boy.
"Bend down, Latif, so I can enter you."
The boy moved quickly to position himself -- spreading his feet a bit, bending his slender legs at the knee, and leaning forward. Reaching back with a hand on each of his skinny round ass-cheeks, Latif spread the globes apart... presenting his asshole to be fucked... and at the same time he brought his face down to the level of the other two soldiers' cocks.
As his fingers began probing the youth's anus, the soldier spoke in a soothing yet compelling tone.
"Tell me what you want, boy. Ask me for it." Two oiled fingers were now gliding in and out of Latif's upraised ass.
"Fuck me, sir! Fuck me good!"
"No; not 'sir'. Remember what you said last night when I fucked you? Say that again." The soldier was now rubbing his lubed cockhead teasingly around the outside of the boy's pink pucker of anal flesh.
"Daddy...." said the youth in a trembling voice. "Fuck me, Daddy! I'm ready for you. Take me the way you like to! Oh please, Daddy.... Do it to me!"
"That's it... Here comes Daddy's cock. Open up for me." And holding the boy's hip-bones firmly, the man slid his 6-inch erection slowly into Latif's flexing circle of muscle, not stopping until his curly pubic hair was pressing against the sensitive flesh at the entrance of the boy's hole.
"Ahhh; yes... nice and tight... and so warm! You're good Latif. You're the best.... Uhhhh.... that's so good! Take it boy... Take Daddy's cock.... Oh, YES!" moaned the soldier as he established a steady rhythm of fuck-stokes.
The other two soldiers stood hip-to-hip in front of Latif. Each had an arm around the other, and they were facing inward a bit so that their erections were touching, only inches from Latif's face. One of them put his hand behind the boy's head and drew him closer. As Latif brought his hands up to grasp men's cocks, his mouth came down to fellate them... alternating from one to the other... sucking for 30 intense seconds and then switching... back and forth... driven by an intense lust. The two soldiers began kissing each other aggressively and their cocks were being tended by the boy. Muffled moaning grunts issued from Latif's throat, joined by the pleasure-noises of the men. All the while, the third soldier was plowing his cock in long thrusts into the boy's anal tunnel.
Salim brought his left hand to his mouth and collected a glob of spit on his fingers, then reached back to his ass. Bending his knees a bit, he brought the two fingers to the pleasure spot he had only recently discovered. Stroking and probing, he felt almost overwhelmed by the intensity of his sexual feelings. As he watched the activity only 20 feet away, he kept envisioning himself in the action... being Latif, with his ass being fucked and his mouth full of cock... being the soldier who was humping the boy's ass... or being sucked by Latif while slurping at the tongue of a handsome young soldier.
Just as the soldier... groaning with intense pleasure... shot his seed deep into the youth's rectum, Salim reached his own climax. As his penis trembled with the thrill of immature orgasm, Salim's anal muscle clenched rhythmically around his two slippery fingers. He leaned against the tree, gasping with exhausted pleasure.
Before him, the arrangement of bodies was changing. Men's hands were guiding Latif onto his back, as another soldier got into position between his legs. As Salim was securing his pants, the soldier had pushed back Latif's legs and was guiding his cock into the boy's dilated hole. The other knelt with his knees on either side of the lad's head, his full ball sack dangling down to be licked and suckled. He held onto Latif's ankles, pulling the boy's legs apart and back.
Slipping quietly through the trees, Salim made his way back to the boys' encampment. As he slipped under the blankets and snuggled up close to Damir's warn naked body, Salim knew that he had made the right decision to not join in. He was not yet ready for men, even though thoughts of their intense sexuality thrilled him.
The next day's march was just as long as the first, but with the added burden of walking uphill at times. For a while Salim carried Damir on his back as they strode up a steep mountain pass, though he couldn't do it for very long. That night, he too went to sleep as soon as he had taken his meal.
The third day's journey was more of the same, but Salim could sense a strangely different quality in the appearance of the landscape and the scent of the air he breathed. When they reached the crest of a hill in the late afternoon, there before them was the ocean... the Adriatic Sea. And a beautiful walled city was clustered on the shore, it's red tile roofs glowing in the setting sun. Numerous boats bobbed in its perfect protected harbor. One of the ships, with many long oars sprouting from its sides, was much larger than the rest.
"Istanbul!" shouted Damir.
"No, lad," said Commander Mustafa. "It's Dubrovnik. A fine little port, but hardly a match for Istanbul."
As Salim's group entered the town, there were many other soldiers and boys... hundreds of them... moving in the same direction, toward the large war galley. All the boys were in the same age range 9 to 14 and all wore identical purple shirts with billowing sleeves.
At the quay, Salim was in awe at the size of the vessel. It had two tall masts, and at the stern a tall structure with many windows. Thirty-six huge oars stuck out from each side. Walking up a wide gang-plank that directly entered the ship's interior, the boys found themselves in a large low-ceilinged room. Three hundred boys were already in the room, 200 more were waiting on the quay to enter. Throughout the room were a forest of posts with hooks along the sides, and sergeants were instructing boys on how to hang the hammocks - stacked four high - in which they would sleep.
Salim did not notice the ship's officer who approached Commander Mustafa and said, in Turkish "The captain requests your presence in his quarters at once to meet with an emissary of the sultan. You will bring the log-book from your collection of the boy-tax."
Later, as Salim was getting accustomed to the excitement of being among such a large number of boys, in a completely foreign environment, the commander returned and sought him out.
"Salim... come with me." The boy looked up, puzzled. "No questions," said the man, firmly.
They made their way up on deck and then through a door into the stern superstructure. There, in a hallway before a closed door, were a dozen boys... each with a commander by his side. And each was a particularly handsome youth of Salim's age or a bit older. Nobody spoke, but each time the door opened, a boy and a commander would come out, and another pair would enter.
When it was Salim's turn, he walked through the door to find a bald man wearing clothes of extraordinarily fine material. The man was of indeterminate age, and he was soft and fat, with smooth boyish skin on his face. When he spoke, his voice was strangely high-pitched, but he spoke the Bosnian dialect without an accent.
"Strip nude, boy," he said, without any preliminary pleasantries.
Salim looked over at the commander, whose facial expression said "do it!"
"Hmmm.... Now make your member stiff."
Salim blushed, but he did as he was told, running the foreskin up and down over his cockhead as his penis lurched up beneath his fingers.
"Do you sing, boy?"
"Sir?" Salim was puzzled by the incongruous question.
"You heard me. Sing a song that you know," said the unsmiling eunuch.
Salim thought for a moment and chose his father's favorite, then opened his mouth wide and began to sing:
"In the very beginning, when the first mountain was but a hill..."
He stood up straight and sang in a high, clear tone, oblivious to how odd it must have looked for a skinny nude boy of not-yet-12 years... his stiff penis standing up at his crotch... to be singing for two men.
"... when the first pine tree was but a bush, when the Drina was but a swamp, when the north wind was but a breeze, there was a Bosnian ancestor, with a horse of fiery hooves..."
"That will do," said the plump man. "Get dressed and go through that other door, pointing to one different from the door through which Salim had entered.
"Goodbye, Salim. And good luck to you," said the commander.
Salim was confused by the commander's words, but he obeyed the orders. As he entered the next room, he noticed a boy sitting on a bench and a large black-skinned man standing. The man was plump and beardless, just like the well-dressed questioner, and he had a curved sword hanging from his belt.
"Otumak," said the man. Pointing to a stool across the room from the other boy. Salim had learned the word; it was Turkish for "sit".
Salim looked over at the other lad and was immediately struck by his exotic beauty. There was a feminine quality about him, but there was no question he was a boy, dressed in the uniform of a Janissary cadet.
"Hi. My name is Salim," he said to the boy.
"Sessizlik!" ["silence"] shouted the man.
Salim could not help but stare at the boy. His hair was as black as a cloudy moonless night; his dark eyes smouldered with sensuality and seemed to burn into Salim's soul. His dusky skin and sharp features were totally unlike the blond Slavic people of Salim's valley. Perhaps he was a Turk.
As Salim stared, the boy's full red lips turned in a knowing smile... part friendly; part almost sinister. The dark-haired lad's eyes glanced down, and Salim's eyes followed. The boy's hand moved slowly from his knee, along the inside of his thigh, and finally to his crotch. There, his fingers slowly and inconspicuously fondled the bulge beneath the loose material.
Salim was mesmerized... and increasingly aroused. When at last his eyes returned the boy's face, Salim's first thought was 'Oh, how I would love to kiss those lips!' Just then, the mysterious lad pursed his lips together and made a subtle, silent kissing motion. A sexual chill ran through Salim's body. Never had he seen a person like this. So beautiful; so erotic; such knowing eyes. And that indescribable smile!
At last, the white-skinned eunuch entered the room and spoke in Bosnian. "We will go now. You will be the only two. No questions. No talking."
The two men and two boys walked down the gang-plank and onto the quay. A hundred yards down the dock a much smaller boat was moored, with a single lateen-rigged mast and eight oars on each side. It was low, sleek, and ornately decorated. When they boarded, the Turkish sailors on deck turned away and went about their business. (They had been told that if they so much as stared at these boys, their genitals would be cut off and used for fishing bait.)
When the two eunuchs left the boys alone for a moment, Salim whispered "Do you speak Bosnian?"
"Of course!" whispered the lad without an accent. "I do not look like you because my people are Roma. Some know us as Gypsies." Then, somehow knowing Salim's next question before it was asked, the boy said "We have been separated from the others because we are the most beautiful and desirable of all the boys on the ship." Not a boast; not speculation. A simple statement of fact.
End of Part 3.
At the end of Part 2, I said we'd meet the sultan this time. Well, I lied. In Part 4, for certain. Write to me: bil47@yahoo.com