Jump to content
  • Join For Free and Get Notified of New Chapters!

    Are you enjoying a great story and want to get an alert or email when a new chapter is posted? Join now for free and follow your favorite stories and authors!  You can even choose to get daily or weekly digest emails instead of getting flooded with an email for each story you follow. 

     

    AC Benus
  • Author
  • 4,121 Words
  • 311 Views
  • 2 Comments

The Great Mirror of Same-Sex Love - Prose - 11. Ahmad al-Tifashi – “The Most ‘Charming’ of Slave Boys”

**warning for some very naughty content ahead**

.

The Most "Charming" of Slave Boys

 

(You will read a lot of 20th century scholors assuring you (groundlessly) that Muslim Gay love was ‘not that way’ – meaning not physical in nature. How about we ignore the bigoted ‘experts,’ and instead read firsthand documents. The following lighthearted piece would not be out of place in A Thousand and One Arabian Nights. A cross between Romance and Smut, the timeless elements of camp come through with a clear wink and nod and link this piece to Gay old Petronius’ Gay old Satyricon. Our narrator is a trusted doctor who attends to the needs of the male sex-workers and drag queens of Baghdad’s Gay entertainment district. Doctor Sahl in turn had been told the tale by the groomer of a young drag queen in training, a drag mother he calls the “Sheikh of Queens.” It’s her voice we hear when we read the story.)

 

One Day, Shafi, the celebrated Gay chamberlain to the sultan, sent me an urgent message, telling me to come to his place without the slightest delay. I hadn’t been in touch with Shafi for several months, as a result of some disagreement or other between us, and things might have gone on that way a good while longer, if I hadn’t run into him by chance some time earlier at the palace in the sultan’s entourage. He had apologized, and we had made up. Anyhow, my friends and I went with the messenger who had come to fetch me.

There was a teenage boy who belonged to a well-to-do family in the group. He was of the house of Wahb, son of Sulayman. He had long been wracked with desire to follow his inner urgings and become a queen. He had run away from home and broken with his family after the death of his father, and I could see that he enjoyed being with us and imitating our behavior, even our way of dress. He was charmingly coquettish, an accomplished flirt, and his face was beautiful to behold. And he was consumed within, doctor, by such intense passion and such lustful desires that none of us could in those days have vied with him on that score. He complained to us that when he was a child he had never found anybody to break him in and train him suitably, to help him breach his dam and widen its narrow opening. He also told us that his father and mother and everybody close to him kept him under constant surveillance and wouldn’t ever let him go out or give him any chance to leave the house. They wouldn’t even let anyone speak to him or allow him to say a word to anybody, for fear he might be corrupted and might turn into a queer boy. Truth is, he was bound in the end to turn into one anyway. For inborn inclinations always win out in the long run; you can’t play games with Nature!

Nevertheless, despite his intense longing and his seductive come-ons, he had remained as innocent as a babe up till that point; he was still held back by the tightness and narrowness of his hole. He suffered because of his inability to offer a large enough arena for the accomplishment of the exploits so common amongst us. He had witnessed on many occasions the valiant deeds of our heroes and had marveled at seeing them plunge so easily into our bodies. At such times, you could hear him weeping with sorrow, groaning out his unhappiness and sobbing under the keen sting of unrequited desire. We sympathized with his misery, and, moved by compassion, we had vowed to take him under our wing, see to his sexual education, and find someone capable of wearing his resistance down and drilling him both gently and expertly. In short, we were prepared to do everything in our power to help him find his proper path in life. And he never tired of thanking us for these good intentions of ours and for our insistence on having him attend the displays of generosity which we habitually lavished on one another in our private gatherings. [1]

We spent a very pleasant day in Shafi’s lodgings, an afternoon and evening of banter, of enjoyment, of pleasures savored in leisurely and unhurried fashion, with the customary interchange of gifts and of costly and extravagant clothing. Among the servants passing around the drinks there was a young Greek slave who spoke extremely elegant Arabic. I had never before seen him at our host’s place; Shafi had doubtless acquired him during our period of estrangement from each other. That boy looked like the full moon in all its splendor. He had wonderful eyebrows, elongated at the sides and meeting in the middle of his forehead; alluring, bewitching eyes; eyelashes as majestic as an eagle’s plumage; teeth like pearls in the jewel-case of his mouth; a kiss-curl dangling playfully over his forehead; harmonious rows of curls decorating the sides of his head. He was slim and willowy, with delicate hips and very sinuous hands and feet. He was dressed in a flowing, long-sleeved red satin robe and wore a gold-embroidered silk turban on his head. From one ear hung a gold ring with a pearl the size of a small hazelnut set inside it. His trousers fell to his feet in graceful folds. His nickname was "Charming," and, believe me, when he set out to charm someone, that name took on its full meaning. He was so beautiful that, honestly, even I couldn’t help squirming constantly as I sat there. His looks enchanted me, and his flirtatious, coquettish ways won me completely over, even though boys of that type – to tell the truth – are not really my dish and don’t suit my temperament or my way of looking at things. I like grown men much better than youths: I’m a beef queen, not a chicken queen, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off him, couldn’t keep them from feasting on the private delights and the various points of perfection of that body of his – from the most inaccessible ones to those closest at hand.

And so, I soon noticed that the handsome slave boy and my very youthful companion, who was so badly in need of sexual experience, seemed to be very busy exchanging delighted glances with each other, eyeing each other time after time, stopping and speaking to each other, trading hints and promises. The evening wore to an end, and we were about to take leave when Shafi insisted on our staying. He assigned us to a room, and mattresses were laid out for us there. We had just retired there for the night – my young friend in our midst – and were continuing our conversation, when Shafi came to ask us what time we thought we were likely to fall asleep. We were as yet unaware of his intentions with regard to Charming, and of Charming’s designs on our young protégé. But just as our eyes were closing, Charming burst into the room. His arrival startled us at first, and we decided to pretend we were sleeping and not concern ourselves any further with his presence amongst us at such a late hour. He was pants-less; the only garment he was wearing was a long, sheer silk tunic, which he must have put on when he went to bed. His whole body was bathed in an intoxicating aroma of musk.

Our young friend got up at once, ran to him and threw his arms around him. I got up then and said:

“What you two planning to do? What you up to?”

“We’re going to fuck each other,” they answered. “And may God give you strength!”

I knew that such a delicate lad would never be strong enough to support an ordeal like that. But I reasoned with myself. Charming is a youth himself, after all, I said the kid can probably take it. Accordingly, I replied:

“All right, go ahead and screw.”

But a little voice warned me at the same time that it would be better to protect against the consequences of his own decision. I thought it might be wiser to examine the young man’s crown jewels first, and to suggest to the young men, in any case, the advisability of limiting themselves to necking and petting, and not going all the way. So I approached them, assuming as authoritarian an air as I could:

“But just the same, I want to set certain conditions about what you do—”

“What conditions?” bristled Charming.

“I insist that you fuck this boy in my presence, and by candlelight. That way, I’ll be able to watch you and enjoy your happiness. If you don’t agree, I’ll have to say no to your fun and games, and they won’t go any further.”

Charming realized that they’d have to comply with my wishes. He did as he was told, and unveiled in the candle’s glow an object nearly as long as a man’s forearm and about as big around as a person’s leg, with a head that would make you think of a blacksmith’s hammer. It was a magnificent cock he had, indeed, golden-white in color, with beautifully turned-up edges, superbly polished, perfect in every detail of relief and design. I freely admit I never had the pleasure of admiring such a marvel, in spite of all my investigations in the field. I would never even have thought it possible that the seed of Adam could be graced by such a monument.

At the sight of such beauty, my whole body was aroused, and all my lecherous instincts instantly came to a head and were unleashed. My young companion was in the same state as I was, but the mixture of respect and fear which I inspired in him kept him from articulating his feelings. With a single bound of resolve, my soul determined to have Charming; and with a single movement, Charming fell on me. He was still so young that he began to fuck me without any foreplay at all. As for me, I simply lost the use of reason. He plunged so violently into my body that from the moment of his assault I felt a pleasure I had never before experienced, sensations of a kind that my heart couldn’t even have imagined. His flesh was so hot that it fairly burned me. It was like the cauterization of a wound. But at the same time, he knew exactly how to arouse my responses, and he maneuvered boldly so as to do so. The presence of the boy at our side didn’t embarrass him in the least. No entreaty could stop him. He didn’t seem to have even a shred of modesty left. He rammed his tool in me right up to the hilt, burying it completely from sight; then he withdrew it again down to the head, then stuck it in again as far as it could go, fearlessly, deliberately, until it vanished completely inside me. And all the while my little friend stood by, watching wide-eyed as that long, long cock thrust in and pulled out, listening raptly to the sucking, squishing sound that it produced deep inside my body with its every movement. I saw him drooling with anticipation. He would get up and sit down again, changing positions constantly, smoldering with lust and longing, and concerned at seeing me reduced to such a state […] and burning with a secret passion to be treated in exactly the same way.

When he realized that Charming had shot his load inside me, leaving me almost swooning with pleasure, and when he saw that cock pulling out like a curved dagger or like a young tree with a spreading crown – as strong as ever, still bursting with sap, very stiff, very erect, shining like a drawn sword, glowing like a star, with its wonderfully swollen, delightfully rounded head – he couldn’t resist stretching out his hand toward such a beautiful object. He got down at once on all fours. Nothing could have held him back this time – neither prohibition nor censure. When I saw him in that state, conquered, completely vanquished by desire, no longer able to put up any kind of resistance to the passion that had taken possession of him, I understood that he was no longer in his right mind or in control of himself. I also thought of the frailty of that delicate body of his, which would certainly not be able to take what I had just taken and would be just as incapable of imagining all that I had had to go through to reach that flexible receptivity which allowed me to harbor the noblest and most powerful cocks. I was sure that he would succumb to the assault of an object that so vastly exceeded his own dimensions. I was afraid that I’d witness his destruction and death right on the spot.

“Take pity on this poor child,” I said to Charming. “Don’t you dare put even one inch of what you’ve got up his bottom. If you really insist on satisfying the desire he feels for you and the desire you have for him, then stick to fucking him between the legs. Don’t go any further than that, or you’ll kill him, and we’ll have a dead body on our hands. Believe me, this young boy is just looking for trouble. He can’t take what you want to put him through. He’s totally lacking in experience, and he hasn’t had even a minimum of training. It’s just his overpowering yearning and his unbridled drive that have brought him down to the position you see him in now.”

But the young boy cut me short by shouting to Charming:

“Stick it in me, master, like you stuck it in him; ram me the way you rammed him; tear me apart; take my cherry; drill that tool of yours into me as hard as you can; don’t take any pity on me! By the life you hold dear, let me hear that thing squish and suck deep inside my womb! Kill me with it! I absolve you of all responsibility for my murder by bliss!”

Only his sexual need, which had driven him quite out of his mind, could have brought him to wish for such a consummation, which he himself had no idea how to attain. But it was then, doctor, that I discovered how versatile Charming was. His cock was standing up like an extended arm. He moistened it several times with spit, lubricating the head first, then the neck and the shaft, and finally he brought it up to the little door that led to the boy’s inner hallway. The head of his dong first gently nuzzled the tiny circular opening, then it pushed a little harder, until it was solidly pressed against it. The young man then shoved a little more firmly, and the head began to make its way into the narrow aperture. Then he backed out, wetted the head of his rod again, and returned to the fray. As for me, my attention was riveted to the young boy’s small door, watching what happened each time the operator prepared to enter it and then withdrew. After a little while, he ground in for a bit longer than usual, and I saw that the head of his cock was on the point of disappearing inside the hole. But he pulled out again and once more rubbed his whole cock abundantly with saliva, which he collected by spitting into his cupped hand. The well-lubricated shaft glistened with moisture. He pushed it in again, and this time the head and the neck were swallowed up. He shoved harder, and the shaft went in a little farther. The organ was by now pressing inexorably forward. Suddenly, I heard the young boy shriek. He was writhing. His moan sounded like the whinnying of a horse, but it was, if possible, even more piercing and louder when the cock was halfway to its goal. But that didn’t stop Charming at all; he merely pressed on. He wanted to sink his cock in up to the hilt. To reach this objective, he gave a series of gentle thrusts, and each time he made a little headway. The boy’s muscles were clearly tensing desperately in an attempt to block entry. But the operation continued its course, and the cock finally disappeared completely in the boy’s innards. When I saw it sink in like that, swallowed up completely by that slender opening, I realized that the lad had lost consciousness and thought for a moment that he might well be at death’s door. So I began to call him by name, exclaiming:

“Cheer up, my boy. You’ve finally got what you wanted, and what we all wanted for you! You’ve won the right to your own happiness, and you’ve learned to enjoy our kind of happiness as well! You’ve taken that whole cock, right up to the hilt, and now it’s lodged deep inside you! Be happy at this good news, open your eyes and look! You’ve taken what you wanted to take, and what we all wanted to see you take!”

At these words, life, which appeared to have been frozen in him, began to flow again, and his soul, which seemed to be on the point of leaving his body, returned. He cast an enraptured glance at me and said:

“Oh, sir, I’m dying, I know I am!”

“No, my son, now you’re just beginning to live! And as long as you can take what you’ve got inside you right now, your days will be filled with delight.”

Then Charming began to withdraw his cock gently, right to the tip, after which he shoved it in again with a single thrust, straight forward. He said not a word, and he pressed in without any violence. His face wore an expression of great kind solicitude. Meanwhile the young boy was gradually becoming aware of his situation. He realized now what was seething and churning in the pit of his stomach. His courage was gradually strengthened by this awareness, and he felt proud of the new ability he had so recently acquired, but he seemed unable to stop whinnying and shrieking. All this while, Charming continued bumping and grinding inside the boy, until he finally came a second time. He gave himself over completely to the pleasure of the orgasm. He flooded that sacrificial body with cum to its innermost depths, began to groan also, heaved a deep sigh, and at last pulled his cock out of the teenager. No sooner had he withdrawn than a wave of semen surged out of the hole he had just left. Nothing seemed to be able to stop it or hold it back, like a stream overflowing its banks. Charming went out for a minute to clean up and wash the stains off his robe and his cock. We carried the patient to a room where we could wash him with hot water. Then we had to rub his poor bruised little hole with warm oil. […] We asked Charming to stay with us for a while in order to raise the boy’s morale. He sat for a moment at his bedside, urging him to bear his suffering bravely, and then got up:

“It’s late,” he said. “I’ve got to go back to my master now. I slipped out of bed without making a sound when I was sure that he was fast asleep. I’m afraid he’ll wake up, and if he doesn’t find me in bed with him, he may punish me.”

But we begged him to be so good as to stay, imploring him in the most supplicatory manner:

“Oh, master fucker, most excellent of studs, chief of all cocksmen, behold this boy! He’s your boy now, because you have opened him up. He’s your pleasure garden because you as gardener have plowed it and planted it with seeds!”

So he agreed to sit there a moment longer, and the boy said to him in a weak voice:

“Master, anyone who looks on your face forgets his suffering. But I humbly beseech you to show me once again that object you well know of, for just the sight of it fills my soul with joy, gives my heart happiness and floods my body once again with the taste of the feelings that it inspired in me.”

Then Charming unveiled something the sight of which utterly dazzled our vision and enraptured our souls. I had a vial of aromatic musk with me, and I couldn’t resist opening it and rubbing his organ with it. The young man then offered his cock to the boy, who took it in his hands and said:

“At last strong enough to hold it. I’m tough enough to take it in all its majesty. All the riches in the world have been granted to me, and every assurance that it belongs to me has been vouchsafed me. Little do I care now whether I live or die, because I’ve experienced this pleasure. I’ve known fulfillment in this act of happiness, for I’ve fully savored this blessing!”

When he had said these words, he drew to his lips the cock that Charming was offering to him, kissed its slit, embraced it, inhaled its odor, gently stroked the neck, and placed it on his eyes for a moment, weeping all the while at the idea of having to part from it.

“It’s yours whenever you want it,” said Charming. “It’s a piece of property registered in your name. When you’ve recovered, you can come and see me, and I’ll give you what you want. Now I’ll be able to give it to you as much and as often as you wish, because I’ve smoothed the way for it, and you won’t have any difficulty with it any more. Not with it, or with all the other ones that will follow it.”

“And you too will finally be rewarded the way I long to reward you,” replied the boy.

Then Charming got up and went back to his master.

The friends I had brought with me to Shafi’s place had of course witnessed the whole affair. After what they had seen, they all felt so horny and frustrated that they sent for the servants who had laid out the mattresses, and each one chose a stud. In this way they slaked their thirst for tenderness and put out the fire that was raging in them, thus recovering their peace of mind.

As for the lad, he tossed and turned all night with fevered restlessness. Then I had him moved to my house, where I administered the medicines that are generally used in such cases. I dressed him up in flashy clothes and set him on a dais, surrounded by objects that I had carefully anointed with saffron. [2] Then I threw a party for him in order to celebrate with fitting pomp the inauguration of his reign as ruler over all cocks. The party was a wild two-day orgy, and at the end of it, he was totally transformed. He soon became one of the most elegant queens of the era, and countless cocks found their way up that narrow corridor of his.

 

¤ ¤ ¤ ¤ ¤

 

“The reason why I’ve told you this lengthy story, my dear doctor, is in order to emphasize that desire and the sex drive are always the best lubricants, and they can open the gate to the tightest passages.”

“A thousand thanks,” I replied. “God bless you and deliver you from all evil. You’ve shown me many things that were hidden from me, and you have explained clearly matters that I might otherwise never had understood. You have elucidated things that I would not have grasped by myself, and enabled me to answer various questions that are often put to me.”

Then the Sheikh of the Queens took his leave.

—Ahmad al-Tifashi[i]

circa 1225

 

 

[Edward A. Lacey, after René Khawam]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


[1] ”displays of generosity” is perhaps a euphemism for sexual orgies — René Khawam

[2] ”surrounded by objects” that were probably cock-worshiping totems, Priapic phallic symbols, dildos, etc. The saffron was a symbol of rejoicing — René Khawam


[i] “The Most ‘Charming’ of Slave Boys” Ahmad al-Tifashi [Editor] The Delight of Hearts [13th century Arabic anthology of Gay writings], reprinted in Gay Roots (San Francisco 1991), ps. 387-393

_

Copyright © 2021 AC Benus; All Rights Reserved.
  • Love 1
  • Wow 1

Recommended Comments

Chapter Comments

Not like that, indeed. Only those who are scandalized by same sex coupling, community and affection would make that claim. Thanks for opening this window for us.

  • Love 1
Link to comment
13 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

Not like that, indeed. Only those who are scandalized by same sex coupling, community and affection would make that claim. Thanks for opening this window for us.

Thank you, Parker. I hope you enjoyed all the camp elements as I did; there are so many. How about the moment the Sheikh of Queens tells the in flagrante youth: "Cheer up, my boy. You’ve finally got what you wanted!"? But then she adds something profound too: "You’ve won the right to your own happiness."

That's a wish that can come down full force through the centuries from the 1200s to the 2000s.

  • Love 1
Link to comment
View Guidelines

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now
  • Newsletter

    You probably have a crazy and hectic schedule and find it hard to keep up with everything going on.  We get it, because we feel it too.  Signing up here is a great way to keep in touch and find something relaxing to read when you get a few moments to spare.

    Sign Up
×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

Our Privacy Policy can be found here. We have placed cookies on your device to help make this website better. You can adjust your cookie settings, otherwise we'll assume you're okay to continue..