The King's Attraction to Scheherazad

The King's Attraction to Scheherazad


It was remarked by many and whispered endlessly about the court regarding the amazing change in climate that had come over the palace. This change had nothing to do with the weather, and everything to do with the arrival of the two sisters. Everyone wanted to know everything about things nobody knew anything about. Still, amid it all there was one certainty. The King was less gloomy and some even claimed to have seen him smile. Obviously a thaw had taken place and the oppressiveness that had once permeated the halls had lifted. It was as if the draperies had been pulled aside and the doors thrown wide open. In the chambers there was a breath of fresh air and the sunshine of a new dawn. Everyone who knew the King saw the change in his disposition and the quick step of a new attitude.

The first hint of it was the exception he made for his new wife. This did not put an end to the perversity altogether but its repetition became less frequent. Next, for the first time in a long time, there resided in the harem, women who were not just overnight guests. And finally they marveled at how Scheherazad had managed to avoid the fate visited upon the other wives. While no one dared question the Sultan, everyone had their own opinion. However, to their deep and abiding regret the King did not feel obliged to elaborate on what exactly had happend. One day, however, he was overheard to say,

"I have very few pleasures in life and if it suits me to keep a young girl around, is that such a bad thing?"

Amid all the speculation, the most popular theory was that an exception had been made for Scheherazad because her father was the King's most trusted advisor. And as a consequence of this he could not treat his Vizier's daughter with the same severity he visited upon his other wives.

The truth was, the Sultan did not really understand why he made her an exception. There was an inexplicable something about his new wife that he found compelling; something that attracted him whenever they were together in the same room. At such times he felt driven to put his arms around her, kiss her mouth, nuzzle her neck, and fondle her breasts and vagina. For her part, this attraction was not something she was accustomed to or had ever before experienced. So she asked him one day,

"Why is it that you are always so affectionate when you see me?"

The King replied, "Is it not natural for a husband to have warm feelings for his wife?"

Scheherazad felt this to be an evasive answer, because she could not fully believe the truth of it. As a matter of fact it thoroughly befuddled her, because she had never considered herself to be an attractive woman; And this opinion she had of herself, did not stray far from the truth. Even in the full flower of her youth there was little about her that would count towards physical beauty. She was tall, long limbed and skinny. Her arms had a sinewy look and her legs appeared to attach themselves directly to her torso without the help of any buttocks. Her breasts were small and her neck, like a chickens', supported a countenance of sharp and assorted features. Only two piercing eyes redeemed her face from an unmitigated ugliness. If this were not enough, her coordination was deficient and her movements displayed a clumsiness that brought attention at the most awkward of times and in the most unflattering of ways.

Despite this there was something that reached out from inside her, something that was striking; like the powerful undercurrent of a river, and when she spoke her voice was absolutely captivating. She was the most brilliant woman of her day and possessed a memory like a steel trap. Her voice had a lyrical and charming quality and her speech could express matters of great complexity in words that were understandable to everyone.

Unfortunately, in those times and perhaps even to this day, gifts such as hers went unnoticed in a woman and her father, despaired that she would ever find a suitable husband. So he left her alone that she might grow into herself and find happiness wherever she would. To keep her busy, he allowed her to be educated and she grew up listening to the philosophers brought in to the teach the young men. She spent most of her time in the archives of the King where she read every manuscript in the library. This was no small feat because many were written in languages that had to be learned before any knowledge could be gleaned from the scrolls.

Dunazad was the antithesis of her sister. To be sure, she had a keen mind but it never got the exercise of Scheherazads'. She had a curvaceous body and a beautiful face. In addition, she was of an athletic inclination, with the coordination and grace of a gazella.

It is not surprising that as they grew up, Scheherazad noticed that much of the attention was always directed towards her sister. Instead of being jealous, however, she took pride in her sister's beauty and often laughed when Dunazad's prowess in games of athletic skill, overshadowed the abilities of the young men around her. On such occasions she would smile and say,

"That's my little sister!"

So it was that in her experiences with the King, she was bewildered on the one hand and amazed on the other. For when she and her sister were together in the private chamber and the King entered, it was onto Scheherazad that he lavished his affections. Being the center of attention in the presence of her sister was a new and unexpected experience.

Dunazad also noticed this and when her sister inquired one day, "Why does the King forever act around me in this manner?"

Dunazad replied, "It must be love."

When Scheherazad heard this she said, "The only interest the king takes in me is when he wants sex."

Since this was a self deprecating comment, entirely without truth, Dunazad answered sharply, "The king has his choice of any woman in the land. He has chosen you. Maybe he wearies of beautiful women without any brains. If this is true, would he be interested only in sex?"

Scheherazad shrugged, "I'm without answer."

"Then what other answer is there? And further, I have never understood why you hold yourself in such low esteem."

"Because no other man has ever looked at me the way he does."

"Perhaps not, but have you noticed his eyes, as he watches you telling your stories?"

"I take no interest in a man's eyes."

"Then perhaps you should pay more attention. Love is inexplicable and when it happens, there is no disputing it."

"Oh, I see, love is "written.""

"Why must you examine everything through the cold lens of reason? Love is simply what it is and it reaches to the very core of who we are."

"That's not much of an explanation."

"Don't ask me to explain an enigma; just accept it with a little grace and humility."

Scheherazad shook her head and replied. "It is hard for me to accept something, my experience has taught me nothing about."

"Perhaps you have not learned everything there is to know."

"In love with me, forgive me if I find it a bit absurd," and pausing by the mirror, she tossed a curl and smoothed down her gown. She realized at once an unfamiliar vanity and her mood darkened.

"Enough of this! We are here to serve Allah, and ammend the King's behavior."

Dunazad sighed, "Here we go again."

At that moment, the King entered the harem and carried beneath his arm a scroll. As he strolled grandly into the chamber, he was reading from the manuscript and giving the papyrus a close scrutiny. He smiled broadly and placed it on a plant stand and went over and put his arms around Scheherazad and began kissing and fondling her as he was accustomed to doing. She twisted away, not because it was unwelcome but because the unexpected touch of his fingers, tickled.

"What are you reading, my lord?" she asked stepping back.

The King ceased his groping and answered, "There has come to my possession a most wonderful book, written by a scribe in India. It is called the Kama Sutra, and it shows many varied and interesting positions for making love."

"Indeed?" she replied, realizing where this was heading.

"And there is a diagram here of a position I think we should try in the practice of our love for each other."

"How romantic," she said forcing herself to smile. "Show me what it is."

The king took the scroll and showed her a picture of a woman with her legs wrapped around the waist of a man. The woman sat upon a stool that was of the right height for her partner to enter her without bending his knees. So positioned, she was sitting on the stool, her thighs around the man's hips; Her feet and ankles were locked together behind him and the two were having intercourse.

So the king said, "Dunazad, dance for us now and give us a beat so your sister and I can make love in the way that is demonstrated by the picture. Scheherazad, take your clothes off and sit here on this stool. It looks to me about the right height."

Dunazad turned her head away and bit her lower lip. She choked back the mirth that welled up inside her and it was all she could do not laugh outright. Obedient to the King's direction she began clicking her castanets and tinkling her chimes and moving about seductively with a tempo she felt appropriate. Her breasts moved about under her halter and her hips shook with enticing invitation.

Scheherazad removed her corset and halter and seated herself naked. Taking hold of the seat she opened her legs, extending them towards the King. Shahryar removed his own garments and coming upon her, placed his hands beneath her thighs and instructed her to wrap her legs around his hips and lock her ankles behind him. As she did so he guided his sinew to a coupling and reaching behind, drew up on her waist until the length of his shaft was fully seated. Then he began to rotate his hips to the tempo of the music.

Scheherazad concentrated, trying to follow the King's lead. It had seemed simple enough, looking at the watercolor, however, it turned out to be harder than she expected. The more she tried, the more difficult it became. At length Scheherazad pulled back at the same time as her husband and his erection dropped out.

The King looked at her askance, and reached down reinserting himself.

Dunazad whispered, "Relax, let him do the work."

Scheherazad shook her head and sighed. She wondered if she had any aptitude at all for this sort of thing and despaired at ever being able to live up to her husband's expectations. Dunazad did everything she could to help. In her dancing she revealed herself in a most provocative and exciting manner, showing those parts that were intended to tease and excite the king. Twirling about she slowed the tempo to a crawl and the beat to something she hoped her sister could manage. At length the King, in fustration, withdrew from her and said, "Perhaps we need to try another position."

Scheherazad groaned.

Dunazad spoke up, "I think it's the music. You know those dancing girls you got from Ethiopia? Well I've seen them perform and they can not only dance, but they are very skilled with the lyre, drums, tambourine and play many stringed and percussion instruments. Let us bring them in and have them play for us."

"Here, in my private chamber, while I futter my wife?"

"We can put up a screen and have them turned around facing the door. We need to relax my sister with some soothing music. Perhaps the calming effect will make her quit trying so hard to do something that should come naturally."

"That's a good idea," the King said, and summoned the players and carpenters. A screen was soon erected, benches put in place and the musicians summoned for the entertainment.

Now Dunazad had been observing the foreign dancers and watching them practice for some time. The Ethiopians were skilled in ways she had never before imagined. She had spent long hours in observing them and asked many questions both about their music and their dancing. Sometimes they danced with an acrobatic grace that made them appear floating through the air while at other times they could display a vulgar wantonness that made the jaws of men drop open in disbelief. In addition they could play instruments. Some like the lyre and flute she was familiar with, while others like the small drums and brass horns, she had never heard before. The players could blend these instruments into harmony and play melodies that were soft and relaxing, that created a mood that was mellow and thoroughly enjoyable. As they began playing there came upon the room a wonderful soothing ambiance that was almost surreal.

The King motioned Scheherazad once more to her stool and entered her. As the players performed, the beat became slower and the tempo more relaxed. Scheherazad felt his hands on her hips coaxing her to move counter to his lead, lifting up as he pushed in and yielding to his withdrawal. The music made her numb to reality and left her feeling detached from all that was happening around her. Dunazad continued to dance, but this time in a more lithesome and dreamlike fashion, with a slow floating and wondrous serenity. The King and Scheherazad were both caught up in the art of her seductiveness and their sighs and groans could be heard above the melody of sweetly plucked strings and mournfully blown horns.

Dunazad danced with a slow undulation of her stomach and hips. Her arms moved with a timeless grace and her hands beckoned their eyes into the doorway of her soul. Her mouth opened and her deep breath called out to their spirits harkening them back to a primordial past that flowed through time unceasingly, spilling over, from the maternal fonts of creation. As the King made love, he kissed her neck and breasts while his eyes were captivated by the influence of Dunazad's dancing. Slowly the tempo of the music picked up and the atmosphere became charged with excitement. Scheherazad reveled in the mood as it melted away her self consciousness. Her body warmed to the stroke of his motion and it seemed to beckon a passion that cried out for relief. As she responded to his gentle eagerness she felt a quickening excitement and a tingle as the King's desire exploded into her womb.