The Inexplicable Attraction

WC 2969

Prompt: Oct 17-Oct 23... Visual... The Embrace.

Backstory: In the 1001 Arabian Nights, King Shahryar, after the betrayal of his wife, developed a habit whereby he married a woman, consumated the union and then had her executed, all in about a twenty-four hour period. Scheherazad, the daughter of his Vizir resolved to marry the king and get him to change this policy. To do this she needed time to convince him of the error of his ways, and in order to buy some, told stories that left the Sultan hanging and caused him to defer his terrible vow until he found out how the fables turned out. Once he did, there was always a new one in progress that captivated his interest and her fate kept getting put off.

The Inexplicable Attraction

It was remarked by many and whispered endlessly about the court regarding the amazing change in climate that had come over the harem. 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 the confusion and wonder, one thing stood out. 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 palace halls had begun to dissipate. 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 disposition and the quick step of his new attitude.

The first hint of it was the exception he made for his new bride 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 halls, a wife who was not simply an overnight guest. And finally they marveled at how Scheherazad had managed to avoid the fate visited upon the others the King took to wedlock. While no one dared question the Sultan, everyone had their opinion. However, to their deep and abiding regret Shahryar did not feel obliged to elaborate on his reasoning. 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 he chose not to treat the daughter of his Vizier with the same severity he visited upon his other wives.

The truth was, the Sultan did not really understand why he made Scheherazad 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 would remove his jacket, and motion for her to strip. Then he would put his arms around her and for long periods sway back and forth. For Scheherazad's part, his bizarre behavior was as disconcerting as it was inexplicipable. So one day she got up her nerve and asked her husband.

"Why is it that you enjoy openly embracing me in the nude..? And why do you continue it for such a prolonged period of time?""

The King replied, "Is it not natural for a husband to have a warm attachment 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 an attractive woman. And this opinion did not stray far from the truth. Even in the full flower of youth there was little about the Vizir's first-born that would count towards physical beauty. She was tall, long limbed and skinny. Her countenance was a sharp assortment of features that did nothing to showcase her sex. Only two piercing eyes redeemed her face from an unmitigated plainness. If this were not enough, she was awkward at times and this drew attention, making her even more self conscious.

Despite this, there was something that reached out from inside, something that was striking; like the powerful undercurrent of a river, and she spoke with a voice that 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 he would ever find her a suitable husband. So he left her alone that she might grow into herself and find whatever happiness she could manage. 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 Scheherazad. She had a curvaceous body and a beautiful face. In addition, she was of an athletic disposition, with the coordination and speed of a gazelle.

It is not surprising that as they grew up, Scheherazad noticed that much of the attention was always directed towards her sister. However, instead of being jealous, she took pride in Dunazad's beauty and often laughed when her sibling'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 marital 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 immediately went to lavish his affections. Being the center of attention in the presence of Dunazad 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?" Her sister replied, "It must be love."

When Scheherazad heard this she said, "The only interest the king takes in me is when he swoons in my embrace and then invites me into his dream world of sex."

Since this was a self deprecating comment, that stretched the 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."

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 behaved towards me the way that 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."

"What does his look reveal?" asked Scheherazad with a note of curiousity.

"Awe...he is absolutely captivated."

"It makes no sense."

"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's hard for me to accept what experience has not taught me."

"Then perhaps you have yet to learn everything there is to know."

"Love? Awe.? Forgive me if I find those 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 amend the King's behavior."

Dunazad sighed, "Here we go again."

One day, the King entered the harem and carried beneath his arm a scroll. As he strolled grandly into the chamber, he opened it, giving the papyrus a close scrutiny. With one hand he began unbuttoning his leather jerkin and motioning. This was a cue for Schereazad to drop her gown and stand naked before him. He placed the manuscript on a plant stand and walked over bare chested. As was his habit he took her in his arms and clutched her long and lovingly. For some reason this always gave him a great delight and he was soon swaying from side to side. Then he began kissing her neck and she began to twist and squirm. This was not because his affections were unwelcome but because when he did this her nipples got hard and began to sweat and started to tickle against his chest.

"What are you reading, my lord?" she asked, breaking away.

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

"Indeed?" Sheherazad replied, sensing where this was heading.

"And there is a watercolor I want you to see."

He reached for the manuscript and held it beneath her nose. His voice was animated with excitement. “Here is the position I want us to try in the practice of our love making."

"How romantic," she said forcing herself to smile. "I'm so excited I can hardly wait."

The picture showed 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 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 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 manner that is depicted here. Scheherazad, sit here on this stool... It looks to me about the right height."

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

Scheherazad sat as the king bid and watched while he removed his under garments. In truth she was not particularly enthused with the idea and tried to steer their lovemaking in a new direction.

“Can’t we just do it the old fashioned way?"she inquired sheepishly.

The King stiffened and gave her a dark look. Realizing her error she ran to his arms allowing him to embrace her once more.

"Forgive me master, she said with contritiion, pleading a return of his good favor. This was a tactic she used whenever his ire was excited. It always worked and so it did on this occasion. The Sultan clutched her tightly, his head on her shoulder, and lips pursed. His bicepts enfolded her and his hands began rubbing her hips. Between her thighs she felt the surge of his desire. At the same time she felt the hitch of his breath, like a child recovering from tears. She could almost feel his dissappointment and the sagging of his dashed expectations.

"Very well great King ,"she sighed… "Your wish is my command and your desire is always my greatest service." With that she took the stool and positioned her buttocks. Taking hold of the seat she opened her legs, extending them in his direction. King Shahryar stepped up, his manhood quivering with anticipation. He placed his fingers about her waist and instructed her to entwine her legs and lock her ankles behind. As she complied, he guided his man spear to a coupling and taking a firm grip, drew up until the length of his phaylus was fully engaged. Then he began the motion of his intercourse to the tempo and beat elicited by Dunazad's dancing.

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 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 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 frustration, withdrew and said, "Perhaps, My Flower, 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. 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 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 his wife's 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. Scheherazadr delighted in the mood as it melted away her self consciousness. Her body warmed to the stroke of his intercourse 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. She squeezed her spinchter and threw back her head. "Ohhhh! Mercy!" she moaned, experiencing for the first time the thrill of orgasm, "Praises, Praises! " she groaned euphorically in the throes of a climax, such that she never dreamed possible. Thrashing about in the arms of the king she arched her back again and again, squeezing tightly with her thighs. Her entire being trembled and shook as the pleasure of a second and then a third repetition, coursed through her body.