Subject: A role-playing evening: the Sultan.
Date: 30 Oct 1992 00:01:43 -0600

I and Alex have decided to post, each separately, the description from
each one's point of view of the same delicious evening of roleplay.  His
post is already gone and I got a sneak preview of it and I know it's
better than mine, but, I promised, so here is mine... please pardon if
it starts a bit slow.  Oh, and I know our posts don't agree in all details,
but, then, neither do our memories of the same scene one week later, so
please overlook whatever minor contradiction!  Here comes...:

Sunday, October 18, we played at "Talisman" all the afternoon with our
children and our beloved friends Sandro and Rita. We enjoyed ourselves a
lot; we laughed merrily, we joked... our kids especially were overjoyed.
About 7 p.m. we ate a huge and delicious pizza in a picturesque
restaurant, then Rita and I accompanied Lucio and Flavia to my mother's
house. 

During the driving back I asked my friend: "Darling, what will our Masters
do?" She answered me: "I don't know, Laylah, I must only prepare you... It
should be a surprise!" My driving style was a little "excited"... When we
stopped at the red of the traffic lights, I looked at Rita and vividly
remembered the first time I've met her. 

I met Rita in february 1988, during a wonderful trip across Rajasthan. I
was in the "Land of Kings" (this is the meaning of Rajasthan, the ancient
Rajputana) because two months before I had taken my Master Degree in
Oriental Languages, and Alex had offered the trip to me as his loving
gift. Rita and I visited cities and villages, ruins and deserts, always
dressed in sari, and with anklets, bracelets, arm-rings on our bodies. 

We spoke with the people, Rita only in English, I in my funny hindi or in
a mixed hindi-english pidgin my professor had taught me at university. The
women were wonderful with us; they told us of ancient legends, tribal
costumes, sacrifices, and I was moved by their openness and friendship. 
One day we went to visit the magic ruins of Chittor, a warriors' city that
fought against the muslim invaders until its last breath.  Rita and I
looked, eyes full of tears, at the ancient temples and palaces, washed by
the most moving sunset I've ever seen, and prayed to the soul of the
SATIs. 

SATI means:  "The full of truth, the faithful one". Sati is a widow when
she dies in fire, united with the body of her husband, or master, * of
her own free will, spontaneously *. She goes to the pyre ornated with her
best jewels, and wearing her bride's dress. Before the sacrifice she puts
the palm of her hand into a pot containing red varnish, then presses it
onto a stone or a monument of some kind, near the bonfire. 

We saw tens and tens of delicate, red prints, tears streaming down our
faces.  "Rita - I told my friend - If Alex should die, I would like to
become a sati..." "Darling - she answered - I'm alone, I've not found my
Master, but if I had found my Lord, my REAL Lord, and he should 
die...I... 
I... me, too, darling..." We embraced, sobbing. I will never forget those
ruins, or that sunset, and the supernatural peace that permeated the holy
place... When Rita found her Master our frienship deepened:  we could
understand each other so well! :-)

As I wrote before, my driving style was not the most correct... Rita told
me: "In Tunisia I bought, under order of my Master, special dresses for
both of us...  It will be a wonderful role-playing!" I squirmed in my
seat's belt. I was thrilled and excited. With the beautiful italian
driving style :-) "I must be home immediately" I reached our house and
parked.  "Darling - said my friend - you DID run!" Sandro was waiting us
in the hall.  He immediately told me, his voice stern and sweet at the
same time: "Laylah, you are a fresh captured slave, Alex is the Sultan,
I'm his vizier, Rita is the "head-girl" of the slaves of the Sultan. Rita
will prepare you. You must only play your part as a good actress, and
obey."

Rita led me in the bedroom, and whispered to me: "Undress, quickly, and
speak in a very low voice; our Masters don't want that we chat, now!" I
obeyed. Now we were both naked. Rita covered me with the most beautiful
silk, turquoise coloured and embroidered in gold. The dress was very long,
but with a single movement a master could expose my back and bottom, or my
breast and womb.  I felt very open and accessible. Rita wore a silk of the
same kind, but black and silver's adorned. "Darling - she told me, in a
low and soft tone - that light blue colour is perfect with your blond hair
and golden skin, while black is better for me, because, despite my dark
hair, I've a fair complexion, a lot whiter than yours.  Now put on these
rings and bracelets. And you must have very heavy earrings." I performed.
Rita continued: "You must be barefoot or with golden slippers... what do
you choose?" "Barefoot, darling".

Sandro called us. Sweet Goddess, I'm not an actress, I never improvised,
before... Oh, Fenris, you snarl, you are mocking me! Anyway, as I've always
told my students "what you can't change you must tolerate". I breathed three
times, deeply, as my professor Mishra taught me, and went on: repeating
to myself as a mantra "I'm a new captured slave, obedient but untrained,
I'm a new captured slave... "

I stood in the middle of the room, my head bent, my body silked, perfumed,
ornated. Across the curtain of my hair I saw that the Sultan was breath-
takingly male. His face was hard, strong and handsome; his voice thrilled
me to the core. A beautiful heavy sword was near him: "My Goddess, I hope
it's not for me!" "My Great Sultan - told the vizier, his voice full of
diplomacy and respect - during my last expedition to your service I
captured this barbarian woman. Now I offer her as a gift to you. She is
not trained, but she is very docile. Order, and she will promptly obey. Do
you want to see her body, my Lord?" The Sultan answered, in a quite cold
tone: "Yes, it may be interesting."

The vizier addressed me: "Slave, I call you Pearl. Offer yourself, Pearl!"
He exposed first my womb, then my backside. "She is beautiful, as you can
see, my King - the vizier continued - only too thin..." "Yes - the Sultan
agreed - but a proper diet will resolve this problem. I see that her
shoulders are not marked by the whip... " (Fenris, this is too much, I'm
full of marks of whip and burnings and cuttings!' 'Darling, you must
roleplay. Do you understand? ROLE- PLAYING! If the Sultan wants to see you
without marks, for now, convince yourselves to be without marks.'") 

"She is very obedient, my Lord" The vizier put the accent on the word
'obedient'.  "Slave, up your face!" ordered the Sultan. I did so. Then the
King continued: "Vizier, can this blond and thin toy dance?" The vizier
stood silent, so I thought it was right that I answered.  I said: " Nobody
taught me to dance, my Lord and King..."

Immediately I understood that something was wrong. What have I done? I
showed him respect, I used the right titles... The Sultan said, his voice
full of rage: "Vizier... your toy has spoken without being addressed! It's
incredible! Undress her, immediately! She will be punished!" I began to
tremble. What terrible mistake! And the Sultan is savagely enraged! My
mind worked at a frenetic rhythm, trying to find some way to placate
him...  The King continued:  "Vizier - the voice was hot as fire and cold
as mountain ice at the same time - I will not punish her, you will beat
this worthless toy! Because YOU have given her to me... "

I continued to tremble. Rita undressed me, and chained my wrists in front
of my body. What incredible sensation, the cold metal embraced to my
flesh! I began to feel terribly excited.... It was not proper, only some
days ago I was a Free Woman! No, no, it WAS proper: I'm only a slave now.
(Fenris, you are always mocking me! Why do you laugh, you beautiful,
tricky wolf? 'You a Free Woman... uooohh!!!' 'Fenris, be quiet, I will be
beaten now.')

I swallowed when I saw the vizier taking the whip, knowing that very soon
my skin would have tasted its burning kiss. "Begin, Xander!" ordered the
Sultan. He promptly obeyed. I felt the leather on my slender body... It
was not very painful, on the contrary, it was intensely exciting, freshly
new and utterly beautiful... I offered myself to those light and delicious
blows, leaving behind me forever all the remains of pride and freedom. 

Gradually the force of the strokes intensified and my moans became louder
and more frequent. The pleasure I felt was so great and so exquisite that
at a certain point I came, collapsing in the beautifully white arms of
Rita. I was *shocked* by my slut behaviour, (Fenris, if you laugh so loud,
I can't concentrate on my role-playing! :-), and by the sudden desire I
felt to lick my chains and to offer again my body to the whip. Sultan, My
Sultan, when will you hit me? I craved the leather impact given by that
arm used to the sword and to the lance, and to the fiercest battle. 

I was lucky, anyway, because the Sultan exclaimed: "This is NOT a
punishment!" and took the whip, and started beating me. Sweet Goddess, the
previous strokes were caresses, in confront of the fire my Lord lighted in
my bottom, hitting not many times, but always in the same spot and with a
strength... God, with a strength I *never* dreamed could exsist. I cried,
and cried, and cried again, offering my tender skin to his whip, hoping to
placate this harsh king with my eager submission. At the end I fell on the
carpet, near the engraved platform that separated us common mortals from
the Sultan. 

I desperately tried to kiss his feet, but the king said to the head-girl:
"Rita, bind this whipped thing in a nice position, then dance, dance as
best you can..." I was chained near the left wall, and I was almost in
trance, feeling the cold metal changing position and kissing another part
of my bruised body. ('Fenris, where are you?' 'I'm here, darling, don't
cry. Your marks are beautiful... and I'm not joking now'.)

An oriental tune ran across the warm air and Rita began to dance. I saw
her voluptous body moving with grace and carefulness, following exactly
the rhythm. Her beautiful raven black hair delicately circled, and her
bracelets tinkled. The light black silk often offered to our sight a
generous sight of her pearl white skin, and her movements were so sensuous
that I found myself wet and incredibly aroused. 

The music stopped. "Nice show, Rita, I'm satisfied - said the Sultan - Now
unbind this marked toy and teach it how to serve her Lord and Master. What
do you prefer, vizier? I'll take some fresh orange juice." "The same also
for me, my King." Rita freed me from my chains - sweet Goddess, I was
growing affectionate to them ! - and led me to the kitchen. She prepared
the juices and told me: "You must kneel with grace and your movements must
be slower, you are not a freewoman anymore, is it clear?" "Yes, Mistress"
"If you are not careful I will beat you, with the Sultan's permission. So
be sweet and lovely, and walk with grace." She then took the tray.
"Mistress - I asked - but *I* would be serving..." "You are trembling too
much, you slim thing... I can see your ribs when you breathe! I will pass
the tray to you when we are near the platform. Come with me, now."

I walked as gracefully as I can, my bare feet on the soft carpet, my
anklets tinkling. When we reached the outer border of the platform Rita
passed the tray to me. Immediately I tried to kneel, but I had problems
with the tray, so, wanting desperately NOT to spill the juices, I
half-kneeled in front of the two masters, and offered the drink to Xander,
because he was nearer me. He shouted: "To the King!" I fumbled, and trying
to not cover the Sultan of juices I half-kneeled again, managing not to
spill a single drop of liquid. 

The Sultan told me in a tone of voice strangely calm - the calm before the
tempest - : "Put the tray on the table, Pearl." I performed. "Come here."
I went near the platform, and I halfkneeled again. The Sultan slapped my
face a lot of times, savagely, marking me with his ring. (Wow, Fenris, at
last I can taste a little blood, not only a few drops! I really begin to
enjoy this role-playing! )

The vizier informed me that I was only a slave, and slaves MUST kneel with
both knees. I knew then to have done a terrible mistake.  I threw myself
at the Sultan's feet, kissed and licked them. I bellyed, I wept, I asked
forgiveness: "Please, don't kill me, High King... please, keep in life
this stupid slave... I will learn, I promise that I'll learn... " The
Sultan said: "It was your luck that we were alone, and nobody saw your
terrible behaviour. You must never repeat a similar mistake, because, if
you do it again..." He grabbed my hair, and pressed my head on his knees.
Then he touched my neck with the blade of his sword (Fenris, why, why I
bought a *real* sword this summer in Assisi?!) - I stayed completely
still and enjoyed to the core that blissful moment, with the cutting edge
of that beautiful weapon on my flesh... 

"Vizier - told the Sultan to Xander - Rita didn't train the new slave in
the proper way; I think she has deserved a punishment. Would you be so
kind to beat her? My right hand is tired... It seems that I used it a lot
on this wonderful slave..." I sat on the carpet, at the Sultan's feet. He
was not angry anymore, he lightly kissed the bruises and the ring's
scratches on my face, then pressed my head on his thighs. He caressed my
hair and I was in the most perfect of paradises... then he said: "Watch
carefully Rita's punishment."

The vizier chained the wrists and the ankles of Rita, took a long cane and
began to beat her savagely. The strokes were very hard, and delivered
exactly to make her suffer... BUT, his handsome face was full of arousal
and... sweet Goddess, LOVE! My heart began to beat faster. "My Sultan - I
whispered - may I speak?" "Yes, lovely slave" He answered, continuing to
stroke my hair. "The vizier... does he love her?" "Yes, and I gave Rita to
him. Now she is his." I kissed my king's hands and looked at Rita. Her
bottom was violet and striped and tears were streaming down her face, but
her eyes were full of love and ecstasy... 

My Lord stood up, and finished himself Rita's punishment, with few medium
strength blows. Rita wept, and kissed the hands of both Masters that were
offered to her. Then suddendly the Sultan said: "Rita, can you please cane
Pearl? Because it's also her fault that got you hit in this harsh way..."
Rita dried her eyes with the back of her hands, and smiled. "With
PLEASURE, my Sultan"

I was chained in a kneeling position (Fenris, I like to be chained
like that!) and waited. A rain of strokes hit the badly bruised flesh
of my bottom. Rita was a severe Mistress... Very soon I took off
and a huge wave of ecstasy engulfed me, and I collapsed on the carpet,
weeping and smiling at the same time. A lot of hands then caressed me,
freed me of my chains and I heard the voice of Alex, full of love and pride,
sweetly mocking me: "Not bad, your performance, Laylah, not bad...
And you are SO bruised, darling..." "It's the first time I'm beaten
by YOU THREE..." I answered. "I"m completely satisfied - I told my
Lord Alex - yes, completely!"  

Thanks for your patience, for following me all the way to here,
Blessed be,
                     Laylah
	-- 
Immensity so vast my thought is drowned // and sweet it is to sink into 
this sea
     Laylah Martelli     (lela@am.sublink.org; or, wi.5292@n7kbt.rain.com)