Date: Thu, 02 Aug 2001 08:33:24 +0000 From: Matric Finrhos Subject: The Eunuch and The Stallion The Eunuch and the Stallion By Matric Finrhos (c) August 2001 Know, O reader, that the magical carpet, upon which Fazir made his escape from the fortress of the terrifying djinn, flew on and on. Across the jagged mountain peaks, above the deep ravines of the desolate wastes, and over the wind-sculpted dunes, it flew. The hapless Fazir tried desperately to control the flight of the carpet. He tried speaking aloud all of the possible command words he had heard in stories, but his timidly imperious tones failed to have the slightest effect. He attempted to divert the rug by pulling on the tasselled corners. He even ventured to shift his weight to one side or another in the hope of influencing its direction. But all his efforts were in vain and the carpet continued flying on its arrow-straight course at an alarming velocity, with the naked shivering eunuch clinging tightly on. After some time there appeared in the distance far ahead a fortress of white marble, with high battlements and gleaming minarets. As the magical carpet approached, it circled the citadel and slowly descended. The terrified eunuch gazed down in the hope that his ordeal might at last be nearing an end. However, to Fazir's immense dismay, he noticed that the walls and towers of the fortress were bristling with men armed with curved scimitars and broad-bladed spears. From beneath a hundred pointed helms he could see the faces of the soldiers looking up at the descending carpet. As Fazir watched, one of the men drew back on a double-curved bow and loosed an arrow that whistled menacingly towards him. Although it fell short of Fazir's lofty but precarious perch, the air was soon alive with feathered shafts and as the carpet swooped lower and lower some of the arrow tips grazed the fabric. As if in response to this assault, the carpet began to jerk and spin in a bewildering dance through the air, trying to evade the hail of missiles. On one of these daring manoeuvres the trailing corner of the carpet snagged upon a spike which adorned the pinnacle of the loftiest minaret. This latest disaster sent Fazir's sorcerous conveyance diving away from the fortress walls, but leaving an ever-lengthening tail of thread behind it. The luckless eunuch was now almost in a fit of terror. With a wide-eyed backward glance he plunged groundwards aboard the unravelling rug. The end of the thread was still caught fast on the receding spike, and the carpet was rapidly getting smaller and smaller. At least now he was beyond the range of the defenders in the citadel. But it seemed to Fazir that the magical carpet would have become entirely unwound before he reached the safety of the ground. To make matters even worse, he realised that his present course would take him right into the midst of the army camped within sight of the fortress. No doubt these were the besiegers against whose attacks the soldiers of the citadel were prepared. Fazir doubted that his reception by these troops would be any gentler. At this time there was much consternation in the camp of the besieging army. A group of scouts had caught a fine white stallion which had apparently escaped from their enemy's stronghold. Being a superstitious folk, many of the soldiers regarded such an unusual event as a powerful omen. But they were undecided whether this was a portent of victory or impending disaster. Some of the warriors contended that such a magnificent stallion must surely belong to the emir against whom they warred. Since his mount had obviously deserted his master, this must foretell that the fortress was doomed to fall. They advised that their sheikh should boldly lead the triumphant attack upon the citadel mounted upon the charger. Other soldiers argued equally vehemently, that the horse, being a beast of burden and a slave to man, was inherently an omen of defeat and perpetual servitude. They believed that this was no ordinary creature. "Look how it twists and prances, snorts and gnashes its teeth," they cried. "Surely this is a messenger sent from the Shadow World by our ancestors as a warning of potential disaster." They counselled that the campaign should be aborted immediately and the stallion should be sacrificed to the gods to remove any curse of ill luck. What none of them knew was that the stallion was actually the son of the emir who even now gazed from the tower of his citadel upon the army camped before his gates. The young prince had so much wanted to be with his true love who lived in a valley a few leagues distant, that he had persuaded his father's grand vizier to transform him temporarily into a horse. Thus ensorcelled, he had planned to evade the attackers and visit his sweetheart, from whom he had been separated for long weeks as a result of the siege. But his daring plan had gone sadly awry. The sharp- eyed scouts quickly captured him with ropes and dragged him back to their camp, expecting to profit by the sale of such an impressive beast. Now the prince cursed his own vanity that had made him choose to be such a handsome snow-white stallion. If only he had elected to become a tattered old pony, then surely he would have succeeded. The wise old sheikh who commanded this army had hitherto held his peace, dismayed at the fuss that the stallion's capture had caused. Now he was distracted from the earnest business of preparing the final assault. Nevertheless, being a seasoned campaigner and a wise ruler, he did not under-estimate the importance of omens and their effect upon the morale and fighting ability of his soldiers. So he called all his captains and officers to silence to hear his pronouncement. He declared that the horse was indeed a symbol of servitude and obedience, and lo! here was their enemy's finest stallion fallen into their hands, as if by the will of the gods. If this was indeed a messenger, then it could not be right to kill such a noble beast. Therefore, the sheikh would lead the stallion into battle, but to reinforce their mastery over the outcome of the assault, he ordered that the stallion should first be gelded. Upon hearing this, the prince's ears swivelled back, his eyes bulged and he set up a furious neighing. He reared and kicked out his hind-legs in an attempt to escape, but the soldiers held fast to the ropes around his neck, and he could not break free. The sheikh and the entire company were much amazed and not a little unnerved that the horse should react so violently to the sheikh's words. Just as they stood watching the soldiers efforts to restrain the frantic beast, Fazir hurtled over their heads and plummeted headlong into the gaudily striped pavilion wherein the sheikh held his counsels of war. With a ripping of fabric and a clatter of tent poles, the entire canopy collapsed, leaving the naked eunuch breathless but unharmed. The soldiers sent up a cry of bewilderment, and all of the officers, and even the sheikh, stepped back in astonishment. Never before had they witnessed such a thing. First a mysterious white stallion, and now a naked boy descending from the sky as if launched by a mighty catapult. Murmurs of shock and ill-omen raced around the assembled throng, as Fazir climbed unsteadily to his feet and disentangled himself from the tent ropes. Stepping forward, he addressed one of the astonished captains, asking him what land this was. However, to the gathered men his words were entirely incomprehensible, for this was far, far from Fazir's native land. "He speaks in the tongue of the foreign devils!" declared one soldier. "No, surely here is one of the angels of paradise sent to guide us!" marvelled another. "Look! The boy is gelded!" exclaimed a third, staring rudely at Fazir's naked parts. Now all of the crowd turned their gaze upon Fazir's hairless pizzle, forlornly devoid of the organs of reproduction which had been shorn from him as a child. Then the soldiers all turned expectantly to their sheikh. With a nervous cough, the sheikh took a step forward. He knew that he must resolve his soldier's fears or risk the imminent disintegration of his army. Moreover, he wanted to end all further discussion of omens and portents. "Clearly, the gelded boy is sent from on high as an indication that the stallion must not be touched." intoned the sheikh with only a trace of uncertainty in his voice. "So then, we shall rid ourselves of all ill luck by releasing the pair of them to return to the Shadow World from whence they came. But we will still show that the horse is servant to the man, and both must bend to the will of an all-conquering ruler." So saying, he ordered his men to seize hold of Fazir and to tie him to the stallion's back. Despite Fazir's most plaintive entreaties, which were sadly unfathomable to all those who heard them, he was hoisted onto the stallion's broad back. Whilst a score of soldiers held the horse still, stout ropes were passed beneath its belly and tied painfully tight around Fazir's wrists and ankles. Once it was established that the eunuch was firmly bound astride the beast, the sheikh barked an order and the ring of soldiers drew back. With a stamping of hooves, the prince galloped away from the demolished tent and the assembled soldiery, and set off at top speed for the distant horizon. Poor Fazir could do nothing but endure the shaking and jostling as the prince pounded over the low hills. For his own part, the prince barely noticed the young eunuch, such was the boy's lightness and the prince's eagerness to get away from his enemies and to reach his lover's arms. But soon enough the prince remembered Fazir's presence, as the eunuch started moaning and calling Whoa! in a pitiful voice. The prince had been just as startled as his captors when Fazir had landed upon the sheikh's pavilion. He had no better idea of who or what Fazir was than had the soldiers. He was therefore keen to rid himself of this irritating, albeit slight, encumbrance. With a sudden lurch and a violent buck of his hind- quarters, the prince attempted to dislodge the boy. However, the ropes fastened to Fazir's limbs were too well tied to be released by even such a powerful jerk as this. All that happened was that Fazir's perch atop the stallion's back was dislodged and he slipped around so that he was pressed against the horse's left flank. Peering around, the prince's equine head regarded the precariously clinging eunuch with resignation. It was clear that the bonds were too tight to come loose by this method, and now the lad would affect the prince's balance. There seemed no alternative but to continue with all haste to the safety of the palace in which dwelt his betrothed. There he could await the waning of the spell which had transformed him into his present form. Thus resolved, the prince cantered off once more. With each stride, however, the helpless eunuch found that he was slipping further down the creature's sweating flank and under its lurching belly. Soon enough, Fazir found himself hanging below the pounding stallion, with his head between the forelegs and his posterior between the stallion's powerful back-legs. As the prince raced downhill, Fazir would slip forward and his narrow shoulders would be brushed by the horse's front legs. As the prince trotted uphill, however, Fazir would slip backward. On one such long upward climb, as the prince was thinking longingly of his lover's tender embrace, he began to notice a stirring in his loins. Soon enough, the prince was not the only one to notice. With the motion of their ascent up the steep hill, the stallion's male parts were rubbing against Fazir's smooth buttocks. Gradually this excitation caused the prince's mighty endowment to swell, thereby increasing the pressure upon the boy's delicate flesh. Each footfall, each jolt and bounce caused more friction and the prince's equine member grew and stiffened. Fazir was almost beyond feeling surprise at this latest calamity. But just when it seemed that the stallion's mighty tool must break through and pierce the boy's precious entrance, the prince reached the summit of the ridge and began to descend the other side. Much to Fazir's relief, this change of inclination brought an immediate reduction of the painful pressure on his behind. The prince, however, felt no relief, only frustration. Carefully he picked his way down the rocky slope and across the floor of the gully. Fazir's respite was not to last long. Craftily, the lustful prince selected the longest and steepest route up the next hill. As they began the ascent, the prince's parts once again grew larger and stiffened. With a well- timed jump over a rock the tip of this mighty tool forced its way into Fazir's much-used hind parts and with each subsequent stride it slithered further in. The prince was soon in rapture, but for Fazir the discomfort of the enormity of the horse pounding into his fundament was almost unbearable. To the eunuch's immense relief they eventually reached the top of the hill. The prince soon discovered that with the stallion's mighty frame came an almost inexhaustible sexual stamina. The prince also knew, however, that he had already covered most of the distance between his father's fortress and his sweetheart's palace. Now there were no more hills or ridges whereby he could gratify his untiring lusts upon his unwilling passenger, only a gentle plain. The prince's dilemma grew deeper as he realised that when he eventually returned to his human form he would be entirely naked. He had not foreseen this problem. Neither could he simply trot into the court-yard of the palace, with a young eunuch bound fast to his belly. Until he regained his human body, he would not be able to explain who he really was, or how he came to be there. Clearly he must approach the palace undetected and, once transformed, he would acquire some suitable raiment. By now the prince, still in the guise of the snow- white stallion, was cantering along the track that led through the estate that belonged to his sweetheart's father. He spied an isolated barn set well away from the road and out of sight of the palace. At once he trotted towards it, between the groves where the oranges grew ripe in the autumn sunshine. Reaching the comparative seclusion of the barn, the prince calculated that he had perhaps an hour to wait before the effects of the spell wore off. He could not be certain, however, as he had only the height of the sun with which to judge the time. He refreshed himself with water from a trough and helped himself to a succulent orange. There was no such opportunity for Fazir, however, still bound hand and foot beneath the horse's sweating body. Indeed, the timid eunuch began to despair of ever being released from the wilful beast. Having nothing better to occupy his time, the prince's thoughts drifted once again to his lady. O, how he yearned for her delicate kisses, the cascade of her golden tresses, the ivory perfection of her soft bosom. He dreamed of what he would do once he had reached his love's bedchamber. Such lascivious thoughts had a predictable effect. Once again the Prince's equine hugeness emerged from his loins to press urgently against Fazir's unwelcoming entrance. Becoming aware of his stiffness, the prince sought a way to satisfy his urgent desires. This time, there were no hills to aid him. Exploring further into the barn, the prince found what he required. Rearing up, he rested his fore-legs on a stout barrel. At this angle, poor Fazir's own weight drew him down against the tip of the hose's enormity. The prince began to jerk and buck his hind-quarters, causing the stout invader to writhe and squirm between the moist cheeks of Fazir's nether portion. With a gasp from Fazir and a snort from the prince, the Prince once again achieved that joyous envelopment which he longed for. Now, with Fazir firmly impaled, the prince was able to use all the strength of his equine body to thrust into the boy. Soon his excitement approached its zenith. Just as his male parts were about to reach fulfilment, however, the prince suddenly returned to his human form. However, he was too far gone in the throes of ecstasy to be disturbed by even this extraordinary transformation. Grabbing the startled eunuch and pressing him against the barrel, the prince continued with the act of joy to the point of fulfilment using his now much reduced member. At that precise moment, who should walk into the barn but a gardener employed by the father of the prince's sweetheart? He had been picking oranges in the grove and had come to investigate the raucous sounds of neighing. With a gasp the man took in the scene before him. Dropping his basket he ran towards the palace, to fetch the guards. The naked prince, unaware of his discoverer, casually disentangled himself from the ropes still binding Fazir's hands and feet. He then set about finding some clothing, and having fashioned a crude robe from two sacks, he slipped away towards the palace in search of his sweetheart. As for Fazir, he was nearly in a swoon from the pounding his hind-parts had received, and the sudden transformation of the stallion into a man had virtually robbed him of his senses. Of one thing only was he sure - he wished to depart as soon as possible. At the palace the Prince sneaked into the servant's quarters, hoping to find a back way up to the Princess' chambers. The house was in an uproar, however, as guards were summoned from all over the palace to search the grounds. With growing trepidation the prince overheard the old gardener tell the assembled servants that he had seen the Emir's son, as plain as day, cavorting in the orange grove barn with a boy he had tied hand and foot. The servants groaned with shock and disgust, and several remarked that it was well that the Princess was no longer in the palace to hear such news of her former admirer. On hearing this, the Prince hastily took his leave. Thus it was that as the unlucky prince escaped the palace, evaded the enraged guards, and soon caught up with the startled eunuch as he waddled painfully through the orange groves towards the distant hills. As to whether the foolish prince ever regained his love, and what next befell the unfortunate Fazir, that tale must wait upon another night. oOo ( Please send any comments or suggestions of how these tales might continue to ... MatricFinrhos@hotmail.com )