The Greatest Harem

A Lem/T-Mec Production

Story written by Lem CHAPTER ONE

The Harem was a room of polished marble columns and floors, lined with

tapestries. The floor was decorated with a beautiful mosaic pattern that could

not be seen under the countless silk pillows, the only available furniture. And

the pillows could barely be seen beneath the room's denizens, 300 of the most

beautiful women in the world, or, more specifically, the 300 most beautiful

women in the world.

Sara should know. She was one of them as of this morning. A shrouded man

bought her for seven dinars in the slave marketplace where her parents had left

her. What she had expected wasn't good. What she got was to be escorted to a

bath, the first in her life that wasn't in the river. It was a bath better than

most people could hope for in her whole lives. Its basin was nine feet square.

She didn't even have to scrub. The steam from the perfumed water cleansed her.

She lay there for an hour, then she noticed a shadow pass over her. "Not as

bad as you had feared, eh?" She turned around. It was a woman, about five years

older than herself, though many years older in experience if her eyes were a

measurement.

"Oh, you are beautiful!" Sara exclaimed. The woman, with bright curly red

hair, a glowing face, and a beautiful green harem costume, certainly was.

"Ha, ha, thank you. It's always the new ones who pay the real compliments.

But you're beautiful yourself, or you wouldn't be here."

"Do you mean that?" she asked sincerely. It made the older woman smile. Sara

was tall and still newly voluptuous, her whole body full with fresh sexuality.

Her large bosom heaved up and down in the water, and her mouth pursed lips that

were nearly as full. "Everyone's certainly being nice to me."

"It's not so much their job to be nice to you; it's more your job to be nice

to the Sultan."

"The Sultan!" Sara bolted up from the tub, and even Tanzi's eyes went wide at

the sight of the young woman's bosom wearing nothing but perfume. "I didn't know

this was the Sultan's palace!"

"Who else could afford all this?" And who else could afford all that, Tanzi

thought to herself.

Sara's eyes remained peeled on Tanzi's as some attendants hurriedly put a

towel on her. "What is he like? He's very wealthy."

"That much is sure," replied Tanzi. "As for the rest, you will find it out

soon enough. He would not have purchased you if he didn't plan to be with you,

probably tonight or sooner."

"You mean..."

Tanzi eyed her sympathetically. "Surely you are not that innocent."

"Will he be...kind?"

"Oh, he's not what you'd call violent, but he's not exactly giving, either.

He's too accustomed to taking."

"He is handsome," said Sara. "I'd always wished it would be with someone

handsome, and kind."

"If wishes would come true, I guarantee you this would be a very different

world."

A masculine voice broke in. "And if you ever learned your place, Tanzi, it

would be even more miraculous than a world of wishes." The Sultan, a young, fit

man, tall, with a mustache that seemed to be made of black iron, had entered.

Tanzi stepped back reluctantly but wisely, while Sara was rooted to the spot

in awe of his presence. He stepped up to her, and soon the towel that covered

her was a memory. "Yes, you are perfect. I believe I have found my woman for the

week, perhaps two." He began by running his hand down her arm, heedless of the

presence of Tanzi and others. "You have what I want, my dark haired beauty,

especially when you wear nothing..."

His hand stopped at hers, pulling it up for examination. He glared at ring

with a large blue stone on it. For a long moment, he said nothing. "Do you want

me to remove the ring?" she asked nervously.

He grabbed her wrist and whisked the ring off before charging out of the

harem, leaving Sara both relieved and disappointed. "He didn't like me?"

"Actually, I think he just liked the ring more. Where did you get it?"

"I don't know, I've had it as long as I can remember. Do you think its worth

something?" Tanzi kicked a few pillows on the floor until she uncovered a ruby

half the size of her foot. She held it up to Sara with some effort, for it was

quite heavy.

"Let me give you an idea. This is the kind of stone he leaves on the floor.

It could buy you half a castle. There are at least eight like it around this

harem."

"Then what could he want with such a bauble?"

"I wish I knew."

"As you said, 'If wishes could come true'..." Tanzi nodded in agreement.

In his private bedchamber, the Sultan put the ring down on a mantelpiece and

began leafing through a daunting pile of scrolls. He rolled out one of the

oldest and studied the picture on it. It was identical to the ring he had just

procured.

He studied the ancient text carefully but hurriedly. "By the sun, I have

finally found it - and on the hand of a street trollop, no less."

He put the ring on his trembling finger. "I summon you, Genie!"

In a flash of pink smoke, she appeared. She had the appearance a woman in her

20s, with bright blonde hair sparkling eyes, and a red harem-like outfit that

left little to the imagination, except for her navel, which was oddly covered.

Quite the young beauty, though she seemed oddly heavy set for an air elemental.

In fact, she reclined luxuriously on a set of pillows that had materialized with

her. Her body was filled out in the way women's bodies often do, not making her

lose her shape but simply augmenting it. It was a soft, healthy kind of

voluptuousness.

She sat up and raised her hands in a yawn, as if the ring she'd left had been

a small tent she was sleeping in. "Sigh...What'll it be, master?"

He was taken aback. "Could you be what came from the ring? Did the Genie send

you? Is he your master?"

She shot him a glance. "What makes you think I'm not a genie? You don't think

a woman can handle the job?"

"I, I do not understand you. What is a job? How do you 'handle' it?"

"Oh, man, I must really be out of sync. It gets so tedious in that ring for a

thousand years. I could see through space and time, of course, but it's all so

boring! Until I saw this thing called television. Now I watch it all the time. I

got this costume idea from this really cool show about this astronaut, and he

finds a Genie, so I thought..." He was staring at her blankly. "Oh, forget it.

Let's just get on with the three wishes."

"Three wishes!" He said with awe.

She let out a relieved sigh. "Good, I thought you were gonna be one of those

who want service forever. But you're one who was counting on one wish. So yes,

three wishes, and then I'm free of my enchantment. So let's make with the

wishes, and we can both go home happy." She saw him pondering. "C'mon, we all

know what it's going to be."

"You can see the future?"

"No, but I can see the past, and it's always the same. First you want great

wealth. Then you want a giant penis. Then you realize the giant penis doesn't

solve your romance problems, so you wish for all women to love you, then you

realize there's too many of them, and anyway your dick's too big for most of

them and you can't get it hard enough anyway..."

"I am already the wealthiest man in the Orient!" He protested. "And if you

were so crudely referring to my manhood, it is already of a prodigious size."

For an instant, his clothes disappeared before reappearing. "Just verifying,"

she said. "Nothing to phone Guinness about, but you're okay."

He began to grow purple with indignity. "And as for women, I have 100

concubines who worship me as a god...and who do not fill the air with lazy

vulgarities and unsolicited opinions!"

"Oh, I'm sure they kiss the ground you walk on, Romeo. If you're so hot with

the ladies, why don't you stop buying them and get a real girlfriend?"

There was a silence. "I have my first wish," he said coldly.

"Shoot," she said, materializing a book to read in order to demonstrate her

indifference. It was like western books, but with no hard cover. Its title,

"Cosmopolitan," no doubt referred to the denizens of the cosmos such as herself.

"I wish that you would be stripped of your powers and added to my

harem...where I will have you as soon as I have verified your virginity and made

you shed considerable pounds."

She put the literature down and glowered at him. "Nice try, but since the

point of the three wishes is to grant me freedom, it can't be done. Besides

which, you can't wish for two things in one wish, no matter how many 'ands' you

put in it. Furthermore, if you had any confidence in yourself, you wouldn't

worry how I much experience I or any woman has had. And you should NEVER make

fun of someone's size, even if that person is happy with the way they look,

which by the way, I happen to be, as are the REAL men whom I give the time of

day!"

This stopped the conversation for several minutes. Then he said, "Very well.

Here is a wish you cannot deny."

"Shoot."

"I do not need to increase my wealth or power, but I do wish to increase my

stature."

"Do continue," she said.

"This palace is impressive, but I have seen bigger. "I want one with all

marble floors, walls, and ceilings, priceless tapestries, and eight times my

height."

"Very well..."

"Wait!" he said. "First, let me see the castle, so I know you will not cheat

me. Then I will wish for it if I am satisfied."

She waved her hand, and in the mist a palace appeared far greater and more

exquisite than he had ever imagined. It seemed to be made of white polished

glass, with emerald minarets raising proudly above them. All around it was

encrusted with jewels, the smallest of which was bigger than he had ever seen in

his life, the largest of which had to be too large for two strong men to carry.

The sultan's eyes grew wide as he contemplated it. "Do you wish for it?" she

asked quietly.

He thought. "Perhaps. This must be the new seat of my power, standing where

the current castle is."

"Done."

"It must have a giant harem."

"Done gladly."

"Then I must have it!" he shouted.

"Then sleep," she said, and a small amount of pink mist was blown in his

eyes, closing them for a second. He tried to wave it away, but it had turned

into a thin silk veil. He struggled with it for a minute, then darted upright.

He had been sleeping. The sorceress had drugged him! He was prepared to clap

his hands and summon his guards, but then he noticed where he was. It was a

bedchamber, but not his usual bedchamber. It was wider, with a higher ceiling,

and the walls sparkled like marble dappled with gold dust.

CHAPTER TWO

"The palace! I am in it."

He bolted out of the pillows he'd been laying on and he began exploring. The

palace was more grand than he had dared to imagine. There were great halls and

arched ceilings, a banquet room thrice the size of his old one, and a bath

beyond compare

Only one thing bothered him. Where was everyone? He called out in

frustration, "Witch! You have deceived me! I can not be sultan without

subjects."

"You have subjects aplenty, oh great one," her voice responded. It did not

seem like a shout, but it was very loud, making the crystalline structure

vibrate with her beautiful tones.

He looked to and for, but could not see where the voice had come from. "Then

where are they? And, for that matter, where are you?"

"Right...here," she giggled. "But perhaps you'd see me best if you came out

to the balcony.

"I am the sultan. You are to come to me!"

"I'm afraid I cannot do that."

He proceeded to the balcony, stopping first to grasp a scimitar hanging on

the wall and unsheathe it, so that he may to tear her to pieces if necessary.

"You shall pay for this in--" His breath left him. Standing on his balcony,

he saw his harem transformed into a gigantic room in which his new castle was in

the center like an ornamental fountain. And this harem was complete with women,

all 100 feet tall, or they would have been if they were standing up. The sun was

just rising, and they slept still, forming mountain ranges of femininity.

The genie also appeared, and was also giant sized. "As you see, all your

subjects are all right at hand, especially your favorites."

He shook his fist in helpless rage. "You, you have made a midget out of me!"

"I promised that you could inhabit this fine castle, and as it is only a doll

house, this was the only way it could be done."

"I do not wish it to be a doll house! I wish it to be giant-sized! And myself

as well."

The genie stifled a yawn. "All very good and well. But you need to hold the

ring to wish, and that is back in your bedchamber. Farewell, tiny one. I leave

you with a kingdom much greater than it was before...at least from your

perspective."

"Stop! Come back!" He shouted, but she was already gone. He tried to compose

himself. He was still sultan by divine right, after all, none could deny that.

And only the pettiest of chieftains ruled through brute strength. If only the

evil genie had not left him here! When he thought of he had treated his women...

He must get out quickly, that much was true...

But there across the room, he saw one of the giantesses stir, raise herself,

and stretch her towering form in the light of the new day. The sultan scurried

into the deepest recesses of his miniature castle and hid behind a tapestry.

Tanzi felt her closed eyes exposed to the warm sunlight of dawn. Slowly, the

red haired, green clad beauty got to her feet, ready for a new day. Then she

noticed the slightest movement from the corner of her eye. A rat?

But what she saw made her temporarily forget about that. There, in the center

of the harem, was a beautiful toy palace! The tiny sculpture glittered in the

morning's light, drawing her like a girl to a puppet show in the square. It was

the first distracting object, other than other beautiful women and rubies, that

she had encountered since she had entered the harem years ago.

She tapped a moccasined foot against Sara's shoulder. "What, Tanzi," moaned

the new girl, "can't I sleep longer? The Sultan --" Then her words broke off as

she followed Tanzi's gesturing hand towards the new addition to the room.

"Aiiii!" she shouted with girlish abandon and bounded towards the toy palace.

"A doll house!"

"A what?"

"A doll house, like I saw once in the marketplace being sold by a westerner.

They are tiny houses in which tiny dolls live. Oh, how I wanted one since I was

a girl! And this is a palace!" The young woman slid her hands up and down the

walls and gates like she was cuddling a new pet.

Inside the palace, the excited girl's squeals pealed like a giant reed, so

that the sultan feared the walls would tremble until they shattered. Peeking

through the threads of the tapestry, he could see the gigantic shadow of her

willowy form darkening the room. Then he froze as he saw her giant blue eye fill

a window in the hall.

Tanzi was now more interested in Sara's excitement than in the object itself.

"Why would the sultan give us such a plaything? His rules about distractions for

us are so strict; perhaps it is a test to see if it takes our minds off the

cultivation of our forms and our attentions to him. Sara, I think we should --"

"Oh, please let me play with it! This harem is so boring most of the time!

Besides, if it is a gift, he would be angry if we did not enjoy it."

"I suppose, but why are you rubbing it so? I would think you were blind."

"Ha-ha. Not blind, I'm trying to find the hinges." Tanzi stared blankly. "The

opening," explained Sara. "Do you see all the beautiful little rooms and

furniture in there?" The sultan tensed up again as a new eye, a green one, went

past the distant window. Do not worry, he reassured himself, their hands are far

to big to penetrate this palace without destroying it, and they love it far too

much to do that. I shall be safe in here.

Tanzi backed off, and whistled. "It's beautiful. The most skilled artists in

the world must have crafted it."

"Yes, but doll houses are meant to be played with, so there is always a

special way to open...ah, here it is!"

Again, the sultan's heart jumped, but this time it was due to a rumbling

earthquake that made him cling to the tapestry just to keep from falling.

A blast of light invaded the throne room as the entire castle was cleaved in

the middle and opened like chest laid on its side. Through the tapestry he saw

the gargantuan raven locks and rounded face of Sara, and beneath that, her

bosom, the size of which was striking to him even when he had been taller than

her. His fear began to be intermingled with a desire that made his heart race.

He pulled against the tapestry mightily to keep his trembling form under

control.

Tanzi looked on in wonder as Sara explored the open palace. "Oh, isn't just

perfect, Tanzi? Look, it has furniture, tapestries, everything! and all the

little rooms are connected by hallways and stairs, just as they should be! That

doll house from the west cannot compare."

"It's dazzling, I agree. But where are the dolls?"

"Oh, you're right? Where are they? Oh, that would ruin it, if there were no

dolls." She began to shake with fret. From his hiding place, the sultan's eyes

grew wide as he saw her form shake, her breasts, almost as large as the throne

room he was hiding in, separating and colliding. He gripped the tapestry

tighter, until his feet were lifted off the floor.

"Perhaps we can make some."

"That would be terrible! A doll house this perfect needs perfect dolls!" She

shook again.

Suddenly, the tapestry in the throne room fell to the floor, bringing a

miniature man with it. The man seemed to move among the wavering folds, then

climb under it.

Tanzi and Sara blinked as tried to make sense of what they saw. "Sultan?",

Sara said after a pause.

CHAPTER THREE

Sara abruptly closed the structure.

"What did you say?" asked Tanzi.

"Nothing!" said Sara. "You know, it really is a disappointment when you look

at it close up."

Tanzi tried to peer into one of the windows. "Are you sure? It really does

look intricate. And I was sure I heard you say--"

The breakfast bell rang. "Oh!" Sara exclaimed. "They are serving mangos. Your

favorite!" She turned Tanzi towards the buffet room, keeping the conversation

going.

The other women got up for the bell, and the Sultan found his dwelling the

center of much brief attention, but as none of them had any knowledge of

western-style doll houses, they could not penetrate his hiding place.

Finally, there was peace. He looked across the harem room and tried to plan

his escape. He could not see the hallway being any safer than where he was

presently, but nothing could be worse than to be at the mercy of these mere

females!

But before he could make it to the door to even plan his escape, a towering,

shadowy figure entered the harem, leaned down, and reopened his sanctuary. It

was Sara.

Caught by surprise, he had no chance to hide. Her giant eyes made immediate

contact with him like a dawning sun shining between the valley formed by her

bountiful breasts.

"Hello, Sultan," she said hesitantly.

This was the only woman in his harem whom he had not taken. As before, seeing

her this way, she still looked as innocent as ever, yet bursting with female

vitality and curiosity. Her wondering blue eyes, the full, dewy lips - all were

to have been his today, a rightful conquest of the most powerful man in the

East. Now, whether she knew it or not, this simple peasant girl had a power over

him that dwarfed the power he had previously held over her.

But he looked at the wonder in her face and decided she could be dominated.

She was just a girl. He was a king.

He steeled himself and drew himself to his full height, about five inches,

and shouted, "Kneel before your superior, concubine!"

She looked startled for a second, then she giggled. "Pardon, oh great one,

but I AM kneeling down." He looked at her more closely, and swallowed dryly as

he realized that she was telling the truth; his attention had been drawn by her

face and...other features.

He began again. "Yes, well, what I mean to say is: no one in my kingdom is

allowed to be above me."

She looked doubtful for a moment, then she tried getting down flat on her

belly (though her chest somewhat impeded this effort) and placing her head

against the floor. Unfortunately, as he was now on the first level of the

palace, she was still not get below him at all. "It seems, oh great one, that

this is a difficult command to obey."

He detected a rising tide of amusement in her voice that he had to stem. "Do

not speak until spoken to!" he exclaimed. She immediately went silent, but her

eyes still gazed at him curiously, as if they waited for proof of his power. He

continued: "I command you to take me to my grand vizier!"

Her eyebrows raised. "Take?"

"Yes, take me!" carry me! In your hands."

"It would be a pleasure, oh, great one," she said all too sincerely. "But may

I humbly request to temporarily rise above you? It would be difficult for me to

pick you up in this position."

"Y-yes, of course." He watched as she rose to a kneeling position. She leaned

down, placing her right hand palm up on the floor.

"And," she continued, "Whereas you told me to use two hands, may I use but

one? It would seem to be more than sufficient."

"Yes, yes, of course." He looked at the hand, itself bigger than any sentry

he'd ever used to place at his gate, yet smooth and feminine, with glistening

nails. She looked at him expectantly, and he gingerly placed his foot on it. Her

mouth turned up at its corners as she felt his tiny weight on her.

She stood up slowly and gracefully, but to him, it seemed he was flying

dizzily into the air. He fell onto her palm, and gripped her finger with all his

might. "Stop, stop!" he shouted.

When he opened his eyes he saw that she was holding him far over her head,

like a servant girl might bear a plate of fruit. "What are you doing?" He

demanded.

"Now that I am standing I can be sure that I am not above you."

"I release you from that duty! Carry me lower, but close enough so that we

may speak."

"Thank you, my lord." She lowered him down to a more natural level. He stared

as the view as her form seemed to rise above him, like a mountain being upheaved

from the earth during a quake, only this mountain had eye contact with him. Her

hair was like an ebony waterfall, her neck like a giant column, and...

She held him steady at the level of her bosom, and he silently gasped at the

sight of the giant orbs only a few feet (as he measured them) before him, rising

and falling with her breath. Though he had acquired thousands of women in time,

there was no one he had ever desired more than this. And he had barely touched

her yet. He looked at his feet. Of course, he was touching her now.

As for Sara, she looked down at this miniature sultan and, despite her youth,

sensed that this perfect replica of her sultan had less than perfect composure.

Her breasts had been the object of lustful looks and crude comments, but now

they were the subject of abject awe, and from a man who was the most powerful in

the world. As her new clothes and cleanliness made her feel beautiful, the

reverence of her little subject made her feel powerful, even bold.

Finally, she stopped her progress to the door. "Do you like my bosom, oh

great one?" she asked plainly.

He was so thunderstruck by her beauty and confidence that he did not even

admonish her for speaking out of turn. "Y-yes," he said, not knowing how else to

reply.

"Is it not true that I was added to your harem, at no small price, just so

you could posses it?" He nodded yes.

"Would you like to do so now?

He gazed up at her, now with an unhidden air of intimidation, and tried to

look her in the eye, but found that difficult, as a mountain of breast cut off

his view. "Now is not the time or place."

"Because you are so small?"

"No. No, because..."

She began drawing him slowly closer, and her breasts were getting ever

nearer, drawing in on him like giant curved walls. He backed away, then found

himself running out of hand to stand on. He resorted to grabbing the small folds

of her silken top, and leaning back. It was the only way to hold off contact

with them. He looked down and saw a dizzying cliff side in the shape of a

beautiful woman. "Please! Remove your hand!"

"Very well." she drew her hand away gently but quickly, so quickly, in fact,

that he was left dangling from her chest, or rather, lying against it. The

feeling of her breast, warm and full on him, was overwhelming, and separation

from it meant a fall from which he would never recover. Never had he been so out

of control with a woman.

"Put me down! I beg you, put me down!"

"Gladly." She stopped, sat down, and slowly reclined against a pillow, until

she was almost horizontal. And before he knew it, he was no longer laying

against her breast, but on it.

CHAPTER FOUR

"Your wish is my command, Oh, master. Now, tell me - do you think a man has

ever felt a breast the way you are feeling mine? You are feeling nothing but it.

It is your entire world." He tried to get up, but her smooth breast formed a

wobbling precipice that seemed to promise a tumble downward from every

direction.

"This is insubordination! I am your sultan! I am all-powerful!"

"Pardon me, oh great one, but I think you are not. I think you are a scared

little man."

"Y-you are a peasant you have no-"

"On the contrary. I know the look of helplessness. I have seen it in the

reflection of puddles I have stood over. After all, I have been small and

powerless for most of my life. It is a most uneasy feeling, is it not?"

"Yes," he confessed with absolute sincerity.

"And that is how I felt around you. But now I feel differently. Now I am the

powerful one. Now to you, power means being able to take as you please, does it

not?" He nodded. "But I see it as being able to give as I please."

As these word left her, the sultan became aware of a swelling beneath him, as

her nipples became excited and pressed against the flimsy material that covered

them, one of them sprung up against his groin, and his member acted in kind.

"Oh, sultan," she sighed, "your little body is so exciting."

"Y-you do not understand. You are not wise in the ways of love yet - "

"Yet. But was I not to be yours today? You know, I found the thought of

making love to you thrilling. You are - you were - so tall, and so handsome and

mighty. But I also feared you. You could do anything you wanted to me with

impunity. And I had heard that you had done many things.

"But now," she giggled, "Now I am the master, and I find you as desirable as

ever, if not as imposing." Her giant left hand came up behind him as she gently

wrapped her index finger and thumb around his waist and lifted him into a

sitting position on her breast.

She retained her grip as her right hand came slowly forward and she inserted

a polished nail into the waistline of his breeches. He tried to say, "stop," but

his voice was too weak as he felt the polished nail rub against his stomach.

His pants, made of smooth yet strong material, tore apart as she removed her

nail, and his most prized possession stood exposed to her. "So this is what I

was cleaned and dressed and trained to amuse," she observed. "But it seems

rather flimsy. I was sure it was a hard little thing a few moments ago."

As she said this her finger, as thick as his leg, rubbed the under shaft of

his member gently, and despite his embarrassment, he felt it rising at her

command.

"Oh, my! You ARE a mighty monarch!" she cooed, only half joking. "Quite an

intimidating process at its former scale, I'm sure, but still quite pleasant to

look at in its current state."

He tried to cover himself, but her left hand pinned his arms to his side.

"Never," he stammered, "have I allowed a woman to look at me unclothed."

"Fear not, Oh, sultan. You are far too handsome to remain hidden. But if what

you said is true, then perhaps you have never experienced this. One of the harem

girls told me about it yesterday, and I've a mind to try it." She lifted him

towards her mouth. Soon her tongue moved so that his privates were thoroughly

covered by it. He moaned as she gently rubbed it and applied pressure in

different ways.

She reveled in the feeling of his small tool n her sensitive tongue, and she

was thrilled by the feeling of sexual power she had over him. She brought him to

the edge of climax, and almost instinctively stopped just before he passed the

brink. She then placed him by her side.

"Do not stop," he yelled with little dignity.

She remained coy. "I have decided that perhaps you are right. One such as I

cannot deign to force myself upon the greatest monarch in the world."

Overcome by desire, he tried to scale the pillow next to her, only to find

its silky surface too daunting, and sliding off. Then he ran to her hips where

he started struggling up the waistline of her leggings. "Are you forcing

yourself me, great one?" she laughed.

The sultan was too busy trying to complete his journey to reply. Though the

soft pillow beneath her would break his fall if necessary, he did not want to

experience the unnecessary delay and exertion of restarting his climb.

Finally, he was on top of her, so to speak, standing on her gently heaving

stomach. "Are you there, my lord" she asked, peering through her ample cleavage.

"Finish what you have started!" he bellowed as strongly as his tiny, reedy

voice could. When she ignored him, he threw himself down on her warm stomach and

tried to release his passions against her.

Sara was a little aghast, though also amused, at his undignified behavior.

"Really, great one, one as experienced in the ways of love as yourself would

know that is not the proper place to please a woman, and even one as experienced

as I know it would be someplace close to...here."

Her giant hand reached down, but to the sultan's surprise, its shadow passed

over him and pulled up her waistband. Then she raised herself enough so that the

(relatively) flat plane of her stomach became the steep incline of a hill, and

he felt himself plunging downwards into a warm, dark cave. Before he knew what

do her hand released he waistband, giving him only what light would come though

its taut edges or would penetrate the flimsy material.

He found himself stopping his decline by grabbing hairs--small, wiry hairs,

yet soft and delicate. But what his feet felt was softer still. and moist.

"Oh, sultan," cooed the girl, to whom his most desperate struggles felt like

delicate play. Sometimes, she had played with herself in such a manner, but to

feel someone else play with her, especially in her aroused state, was something

that was truly thrilling.

She toyed with him no longer. Her hand reached down and, through the

material, forced him down against her most delicate parts, increasing the

pressure and sensation.

Now the sultan truly panicked, for he could see the titanic woman was no

longer in control of her actions, but guided by lust. But a part of him was

thrilled as well, and when her finger forced his head into her for the third

time, nearly smothering him, he decided to take over as a matter of survival.

He had previously cared little for women other than knowing what about them

pleased him. But he did know of an area they seemed to find pleasure in, one

with a small, almost hidden bump. He felt around and it proved anything but

hidden. "Oh, Sultan," moaned Sara, "your size belies your skill."

He continued, suddenly lost in the art of conquest, his greatest passion.

With his size and power removed, his only mean to victory was his skill, and

little as the conquest of women seemed an hour ago, it now appeared to be quite

a feat.

In a way, it was a good match for both. Sara liked tenderness, and the sultan

liked roughness, and at his size he could be brutally rough and she would feel

only the most delicate of sensations. finally, she came in such abundance that

he slid out of her.

Sara picked up her tiny charge out of her leggings and cleaned him off. His

efforts had exhausted him. "Rest, oh conqueror. I will make sure your existence

- and our relationship - is secret." She carried him back to his miniature

palace, and gently placed him back in his throne room, also being careful to

re-hang the fallen tapestry.

The sensation of the soft carpet awakened him, and he looked up to see Sara

closing the palace. "Stay away from the windows, Sultan, and I shall visit

tomorrow with food and other pleasures."

CHAPTER FIVE

As the other concubines entered the harem, Tanzi, clad in a small white

towel, approached Sara. "Naughty girl, you even stayed out for the bath. Is your

little toy that fascinating?

Sara blushed quickly, then recovered. "oh, that. No, I just felt tired. I'll

just take a short bath later. By the way, may I have one of your grapes?"

"One?," she replied, holding them to Sara. "Of course."

Sara plucked it, and backed up towards the palace. "Thank you. I'm not very

hungry right now; I think I'll just eat at the next meal."

Her hand with the grape swung behind her and dropped it into the throne room,

where it rolled gently up to the prone monarch, who marveled that it was larger

than his head.

Tanzi stared at the edifice awhile, then lost herself in other tasks. The

Sultan found clothing to replace that which he'd lost. Eventually, he regained

his courage and, well away from the window, began to observe the world he'd

previously only known in times of brief lust, now seen as if though a giant

magnifying lens.

How different these passive concubines were when they thought they were

alone! They spoke loudly and with crude language, discussing intimate details of

themselves, others, and even him! They lay about in undignified poses, and some

even held each other as if they were man and woman. Worst of all was Tanzi.

"He's not very good at it, you know."

"Why Tanzi! How would you know?"

"I was a virgin when he acquired me, but I still knew more about sex than he

would after his thousandth concubine. That's his trouble. Everything comes too

easily for him."

"And we never come at all!"

They all laughed at this, and the sultan turned crimson with rage and

embarrassment. To think that this place had been a spiritual refuge for him!

"I think he's nice," said Sara quietly. Despite himself, the sultan smiled.

At least one here would speak for him, and he new she was honest, for she knew

he was too powerless to reward her or punish her for her views.

She continued. "He's just so powerful he's never had to learn how to please a

woman until - "

Sara's fellow harem girls were somewhat askance at her. "Strange, that you

should speak so well of someone you've never met," said Tanzi with a stone face,

"especially when you were terrified of him yesterday."

"Yes, well, I've just had time to think, that's all."

When the time for the noontime meal came, Sara tried to come up with an

excuse to stay behind again. "I lost my new earring, and the best time too look

is when the harem is empty."

"You're not missing another meal. I'll stay behind and look for it. I

insist." There was no established order within the harem, but Tanzi had been the

unofficial leader for some time, and Sara reluctantly obeyed.

As soon as the room was empty, she moved towards the miniature palace. The

Sultan stepped back and placed his body flat against the wall next to the

window. He could just see her giant green eye examining the throne room though

the window. "Sara certainly has had a new attitude since she opened this toy. I

wonder what secrets it hides." He could feel the wall vibrate with her words.

Her hand reached into the window, or rather, a few fingers of her hand did,

which was all that she could fit. Her giant polished nails nearly brushed his

head, but he was too frightened to move away.

She removed her hand, however, and he began to breathe freely, but only until

he heard her groping at the seam in the palace. "If only I'd paid more attention

to how she'd opened it. I'd ask her, but something tells me she'd find some

reason to be unable to do it."

His heart pulsed wildly. The wall would be no hiding place for him if she

managed to find that clasp! He looked about for a spot that would make a good

hiding place should the castle open up, but it seemed hopeless. Suddenly he

heard a creaking noise. "Ahh," her voice boomed, "Here it is."

Then he saw it. A large chimney, like he'd heard of in western houses. He

might be able to fit in it. But has he ran towards it, the room opened up, and

just as he was passing over the seam in the floor, it parted, and he plummeted,

just managing to grasp the edge of the floor with his hands.

As he hung there dangling, he heard Tanzi's voice. "Why hello, Sultan. I

admit I wasn't expecting to see you, but somehow now that I have, it all seems

to make sense."

As frightening as his encounter with Sara had been, this was far more

horrifying. Sara's eyes were wide with innocence, but Tanzi's always burned with

a knowledge that had made him secretly grateful that she was trapped in the body

of a woman.

He had to turn his head almost around to see her, and the sight of her giant,

smirking face making eye contact with him made him lose his grip.

He fell just for a moment before he landed in her waiting palm. The soft,

smooth skin cushioned his fall, but he would have preferred taking his chances

on the ground. At any moment, her gentle perch could become a vise capable of

squeezing him out of existence.

Tanzi sensed his unease and laughed softly yet confidently. "I don't know by

what means you have been delivered to me thus, but I am grateful."

"I did not plan to become this way!" he shouted.

"Ha-ha, of course, I certainly assumed that. But then, that makes it all the

more delicious." There was a small platform, about two feet high and 12 inches

all around, used to hold food off the ground. Westerners called it a table. She

placed him on it and bent down to look at him in triumph.

He looked around. There was nowhere to run - the drop was too steep, and yet,

there was her towering form looming over him, delighting to see him stranded on

a perch that the smallest of children would not fear.

"See how far the mighty monarch has been reduced!" He backed off, but soon

reached the edge of the platform. "Running away? I'm afraid there's nowhere to

go. Not for a little one such as yourself." In an instant, her giant form

stepped around to the opposite side of the platform, far more quickly than he

had walked across it. "You see? And even if I removed you from this surface

you'd be helpless to escape. As if there were somewhere to go! Why, perhaps I'll

let you go just to prove myself. I could release you in the garden. I'm sure a

garden snake would make a meal of you in minutes. Or perhaps a rat, which would

be nearly as large as an elephant to you..."

"No! Please!"

"'Please?' Such an unbecoming phrase from a Sultan. You were much more

forceful when we first met. Do you remember?" Suddenly he began to seriously

regret some of his past treatments of these women. "Yes," she continued. "You

lifted me up with one arm, much like I'm doing now with one finger." Indeed, her

left index finger had scooped under him and he found himself grabbing her thumb

for a better purchase.

"Then you tore my clothes off - " Her other hand reached out with an index

finger and thumb, both of which sported giant, scarlet nails strong as scimitars

and nearly as sharp.

His clothes were pulled into shreds as her crimson nail went between them and

his flesh, leaving a strong red mark along his chest where it had touched. He

cried out in pain and surprise.

"Shrieking from such an insignificant scrape, sultan? Why, I haven't even

torn your flesh, and believe me, I could easily.

"I recall you laughed at my cries, and I suffered far more than you have

before me today...at least, so far. If only I could make you experience..." a

sly smile crept across her lips. "Of course. Wait here - as if you had a

choice."

She went across the room and came back with a small chest - small to her, but

the size of a reasonable fortress to him. "Do you now what I keep in here? As

you now, you are the only whole male we are allowed to come into contact with,

but in your foolish masculine pride, that make you think we can't get pleasure

except through you? No, we can turn to each other. Or..."

She produced a cylindrical object, covered in leather. "Can you guess what

this is? It's like something you take great pride in, but it is firmer and

larger, far more than you were even at your former size. Would you like to see

how you measure up now?" She placed the object right next to him. He stared up

at it. It was more than twice his height, and far thicker, the size of a small

obelisk. He almost went to measure its circumference with his outstretched arms,

until he realized what the object was.

He looked at her, outraged. "You'll hang for this!"

She laughed at him. "I may be hung, but you certainly aren't!" He wasn't sure

what she meant, but he understood it was an insult. He began to berate her,

forgetting both his nakedness and size, but before he could make any progress,

her laughing face became cold, and she lifted the large leather cylinder,

holding its tip menacingly before him.

"Look at it! You now know what it takes to satisfy me. Do you see how

inadequate you are? Even before you were reduced, you were a fraction of its

size, now..." She held her index finger under his manhood before he could react,

and his mind reeled to see its puniness against her delicate finger. "Now, I can

barely feel it."

She leaned back, letting her lesson sink in. He hoped she was finished, but

as a further gesture, she toppled the towering tool with the flick of her

finger, sending it crashing down like a a massive oak. He had to jump out of its

way, then flee as it began rolling his way, until he saw his path ending at the

edge of the platform. He turned right and ran like the wind, just getting out of

its way as it rolled off the edge and landed with an incredible crash.

CHAPTER SIX

"Hmm, I didn't think you'd win that contest, but I had no idea it would be so

dangerous for you. But that's not the most interesting item in my arsenal. What

to you think of this?"

She held up a similar object, but this one was made of transparent glass.

"Beautiful to behold, I admit, but It was too cold and unyielding for my taste.

But I'm glad I kept it around, because it does have some interesting qualities.

You see?

She pointed the base towards him, and he saw that it was largely hollow. "It

was supposed to be filled with warm liquid, but the result was either too hot or

too cold. But I think I could find something more interesting to fill it with,

hmmm?"

"No!" he cried, but he had not fully turned around to run (not caring that

there was no place to run), when he felt himself lifted upwards by the ankles,

her smooth, cushioned hand grabbing him by the feet and turning him upside down.

He flailed his harms helplessly as he saw her other giant hand holding the empty

base of the glass cylinder under him. He felt himself being lowered towards, and

into, it.

Again he cried, "No!", his royal eloquence apparently having deserted him.

His outstretched hands grabbed the rim of the glass prison, but her indomitable

strength gently and effortlessly overcame his efforts.

He suddenly found himself sliding into a glass tube, with no way to brace

himself. The tube had just enough room to let him move around, but not enough

room for him to turn around. He heard her capping the open end, making him a

complete prisoner in her toy.

He felt a rush as she turned the tool right side up and faced him, the curve

of the glass making her seem bigger than ever. He pounded against the glass in

fury and terror, but even he knew his tiny fists could make no noise that she

could hear.

"Don't be angry, tiny one," she said, her mighty voice easily penetrating the

glass cage, "You are not my prisoner, but my guest. My special guest.

"I'm afraid that my talk of your...size may have been to your disliking, but

fear not. You will now have a chance to see what it is like to be, shall we say,

big enough for me." She began delicately caressing the cylinder with her long,

smooth fingers, then moved her enormous painted lips towards it and gave it a

kiss, right in front of his astonished eyes.

Then her free hand reached for a crystal bottle and began to pour a smooth,

fine oil over the toy. "For lubrication," she said as explanation, though he did

not need one.

Her breathing became slower and deeper, and she began caressing herself. Up

to this point, he had been trying to deny his suspicions of her intentions, but

when she lied back on her pillows and began to lower her transparent green

leggings and remove her loincloth, he panicked and screamed, and she could see,

if not hear, his terror.

She held the glass item up to her for one last kiss, leaving its transparent

surface partially covered her with her deep shade. "Do not be afraid, little

one. At least, not yet." With that she lay back and guided the toy towards her.

With his view from inside the glass member, the Sultan found himself even

more terrified than he had been with Sara. At least her treatment of him was

affectionate; Tanzi reveled in his fear and humiliation. Sara at least allowed

him to get caught up in the moment. Now, trapped within Tanzi's toy, he had no

choice but to be a helpless, passive spectator/prisoner to her feminine

passions.

Even in the darkened depths of her femininity, his view was quite clear and

unobstructed, much to his horror. Such mysteries of female flesh he had never

imagined! He had always thought women to be delicate objects, but Tanzi was

forcing to confront an unadulterated view of womanly sexuality.

Her inner flesh had walls of warm, sliding folds that caressed his glass

vessel, gripping and releasing, moving him back and forth, and excreting

lubricating juices of arousal.

As her movements slowly became faster and more intense, he found himself

being jerked back and forth and rising up and down with her gyrating hips. He

had not liked the restricted confines, but now he was grateful for them, for he

could brace himself against the glass walls with some effort. If he had any more

room, he would have been thrown back and forth helplessly and violently.

Tanzi, meanwhile, found herself completely out of control, an event inspired

less by her motions than by the thoughts of her tiny captive. "The most powerful

man in the world," she thought, "and yet never has a man been in my power as he

is now." The reflection caused another surge of excitement within her, and she

began quickly building herself towards a climax.

Inside, the sultan let out a an extended scream, as he found his prison

moving beck and forth at unimagined speeds, faster than on any steed he'd

ridden, until the whole world around him became a speeding blur and he felt the

blood within him rocket around his body with her motions.

Then cams such a burst of feminine fluid that the Sultan's entire word

outside his barrier was blurred, and his ears were split by Tanzi's shrieks of

ecstasy, almost matched by his own of terror. He passed out.

Tanzi heard none of his vocals, of course, but was vaguely aware that she was

much less discreet than she had ever been with her toys. This concern came

almost as soon as her final wave of ecstasy had passed over her. Her eyes

opened, but they could barely see, having been closed so long during her

reverie. The room seemed silent, but as the blurring of her vision left her, she

detected a shape standing over her. It was Sara.

"Tanzi?"

"You've got to excuse me," Tanzi gasped in reply. "I'm afraid you caught me

during my... exercises."

"Oh, please, I'm not that naive. What did you do with him?"

CHAPTER SEVEN

"Him?" Tanzi said innocently. How could Sara know?

"The palace is wide open now, and you are the only one who knew that was

possible."

Tanzi paused for a moment, then produced her toy. "Tanzi!" Sara said, not

understanding, but then noticing the writhing shape within the glass member.

"Oh, Sultan," she cried sympathetically, as he looked back at her with an

expression that she interpreted as a plea for help, but which was actually fear

of further feminine encounters at this size.

Kneeling, she picked up the slippery device with a cloth and dried it off

before attempting to extricate him, oblivious to Tanzi, who in the warm

afterglow of her euphoria, was oblivious to everything.

Tanzi watched with detached amusement as the beautiful young girl, who had

undoubtedly had a sexual encounter with her tiny charge, handling the love tool

like a foreign object while she tried to get to the prize within. Experienced

and yet innocent.

Sara began to shake the glass cylinder in frustration, her head confused with

concern for the tiny sultan with his limited supply of air, her own feelings

towards him, and her bitter jealousy of Tanzi, who had intruded on her

delightful little world. The Sultan became even dizzier, and feared she would

soon break the glass tube in frustration, something he dreaded even more that

his trip into Tanzi's depths.

Tanzi was amused enough to offer assistance. "It's the bottom you want."

"What?" said Sara as she turned the tube around to inspect his posterior.

Suddenly she took offense. "Who are you to say if I want his - "

Tanzi held her belly and laughed. "Not HIS bottom, silly! The bottom of the

phallus! It screws off!" Sara frowned and followed her advice, a bit vexed and

embarrassed, but anxious to free her Sultan. Unfortunately, she was too hasty,

and he spilled out into her lap.

"Oh! Sultan! Are you all right?" He lay, out of breath and speechless, in the

cleavage between her considerable thighs. "No, no, please, don't crush me," he

gasped.

Tanzi chortled again as Sara carefully plucked him out between her legs and

lay him on the table, sprinkling perfume on him to cleanse and wake him.

"You almost asphyxiated him!" she snapped at Tanzi.

"Stop it," advised Tanzi with a laugh. "You're the one who's asphyxiating

him!" Indeed, at his small stature, the Sultan was taking in so much perfume

that he could barely breath.

"Oh no!" said Sara as she reached for the cloth to dry him off, but Tanzi

stayed her hand. "Enough! You'll crush him before you get it off. Honestly,

Sara, your kindness is more brutal than my sadism.

Sara, mortified, realized she was right. "But what are to we do?" Before she

had finished her question, Tanzi had taken a bowl of drinking water and poured

it over the little man, ending his suffocation, if not his embarrassment.

The Sultan regained his composure to find two giantesses looking at him, or

rather down at him. "I don't suppose you know where we could find the Sultan

some leggings, so you?" said Tanzi to Sara. "I accidentally destroyed his last

pair."

"Oh, yes," replied Sara. "There are some in the miniature palace."

Tanzi smiled. "So I gather that YOU destroyed a pair as well?" Sara blushed

and handed them to Tanzi, who motioned as if to hand them to the Sultan, but

mischievously dangled them just out of his reach as he grabbed for them, even

jumping.

"Tanzi!" scolded Sara. "Haven't you had enough fun?"

"Why, you can never have enough fun, Sara. That is the first rule of the

Harem. But that is enough for now." She dropped the pants to him and he

scrambled to get them on. "Now," she said, putting her elbows on the table and

her chin on her hands, "suppose you tell your loyal concubines how you came to

achieve your current stature?"

The Sultan, seeing now way out of his predicament, told them all. "A real

Genie!" exclaimed Sara. "It all makes sense now!"

"I have to confess, I would have dismissed Genies as myths just this

morning," said Tanzi, "but now it seems we have proof that they do exist and

that one must be careful what one wishes or one may get more than one bargained

for - or, in the Sultan's case, considerably less."

"But how do you summon this Genie, oh Sultan," asked Sara. "It is with a

magic lamp?"

"No," he replied. "It is with a ring. "It is still within my bedchamber, I

believe."

"But how to get to it," wondered Tanzi."

"I know where it is!" said Sara. "I have been looking all over the toy

palace, and it the only thing that is out of scale." She reached into the open

toy palace and produced the ring. "It was in the bedchamber within the miniature

palace, not the big one." The Sultan hit himself on the head. He could have had

it anytime he wanted to.

"Ohh, what a glorious emerald!" exclaimed Tanzi. "That's a wish in itself!"

"Give it to me!" said the Sultan. "I command you!"

"I thought you had been cured of giving commands, oh Not-So-Great One," she

said with a cold stare.

"I...I see. But you must give it to me, so that I can show you how to summon

the Genie."

"Hmm, it seems your brain has grown larger as your body has grown smaller.

Very well." She placed it at his feet.

She felt Sara tap her shoulder. "Tanzi, are you sure that is wise? He could

use the ring to regain his size, then what will become of us?" Tanzi smirked.

"It seems you are aware that a large Sultan may not be as enjoyable as a small

one. You are right. But fear not. I feel he has not learned so much that he can

have more luck with the ring than he did before. And don't bother whispering.

I'm sure his tiny ears can hear every word."

"Yes I can, and you should have listened to Sara, you foolish red-haired

witch!," she shouted, grabbing the ring, which he clutched to his bosom, but

could not get off the ground do to the weight of its stone. "Now that I have the

ring, I am once again supreme over you and all creation."

Sara looked concerned, but Tanzi remained calm. "Then there is no harm in

showing us how it works, then, oh Sultan."

Indeed, and it is so simple even you could have done it. All I need do is put

it on my fin..."

"Your finger?" said Tanzi skeptically.

"I...I...summon you, Genie," he said desperately as he tucked the tiny index

finger of his right hand in the hoop of the ring. Tanzi's giant hand reached

down and relieved him of his burden. "I believe the Sultan has seen a snag in

his plan for world domination. Well, I have to admit I'd overestimated you. I

thought you'd get at least as far as summoning the Genie. Now, let's see. I

simply place it on my finger and say, 'I summon you, Genie.'.."

The blonde woman appeared, now far slimmer.

"You're real!" exclaimed Sara.

"She doesn't look like you described her," observed Tanzi to the Sultan.

"Just proving a point to the Sultan," explained the Genie. "My form is what I

choose it to be. And I am always happy with it."

"But I am not happy with mine!" he shouted. She looked down, noticing him for

the first time.

"Well, hello, Sultan. What's the matter, aren't two women enough for you? I'd

think in your current state, one would be more than enough."

"Trickster! You shall pay dearly!" he said, shaking his tiny fist.

"Ignore him," said Tanzi. "I hold the ring now."

"Hmm," said the Genie. "On you it looks good, I admit. But no difference. The

ring is not transferable. The Sultan may use it three times, then no more. Then

I am freed of my obligation."

"Well, it seems you have a problem with your stipulation. The Sultan is too

tiny to put the ring on his finger, therefore too tiny to make his second and

third wishes, so you will not be freed, unless - "

"Unless you make me big again first!" Tanzi's left hand plucked him up and

held him directly in front of her emerald eye. "I need no more suggestions, wee

one! Remember that!" She placed him back on the table and, undoing her lowered

veil, dropped it over him so that he could not find his way out. The Genie and

Sara giggled in approval.

"In any case, I can't do any magic for others unless it is wished for," said

the Genie. "But you were saying?"

"Suppose I wished for him?"

"Hmm, that would be unusual, but it would free me. You would need his verbal

permission, at least."

"Well--?" Said Tanzi, looking down at the Sultan, who was still trying to

extricate himself.

"Never," cried his muffled voice, "I would never give one such as you that

power."

"Then you shall remain little forever. And the Genie shall never be free."

There was silence. Then it was broken. "Perhaps..." They all turned to Sara.

"Perhaps," she continued hesitantly, "The Sultan gets one wish, and Tanzi gets

the second."

Tanzi turned towards the Sultan, who had just freed himself. "I agree...IF

Tanzi's only gets her wish with my approval. And if our wishes conflict, mine

overrules hers."

"Then it's settled," said Tanzi. "You should be a diplomat, Sara. And who

knows? You may be." Sara blushed.

"well, if we're done with the compliments, perhaps you might like to make

your two wishes so I may return to the ether?" said the Genie.

The Sultan did not hesitate. "I wish to be the biggest man in the Kingdom

again!"

Almost as soon as he was finished, Tanzi chimed in, "And I wish the Sultan

retains his current size. Approved?"

"Approved!" he said, as if he hoped not to give her a chance to rescind.

The Genie shrugged. "Done and done. Your wishes will be granted in moments.

Sorry I can't stick around and watch the chips fall, but I have a nice cloud in

the dimension of air waiting for me." She disappeared in a cloud of pink smoke.

No sooner had it cleared than Sara and Tanzi turned heard the tiny,

triumphant laughter coming from the table. "You scarlet haired fool! You

couldn't have made it easier for me. You forget, my wish overrules yours! You

wasted your chance."

"Did I?" asked Tanzi.

"You did! I will personally have you chained for my amusement, and will

release you only have you have made 1000 protestations of submission to me- "

"Sultan!" exclaimed Sara.

"Do not worry, Sara," said Tanzi. As the Genie said, our fates will become

clear enough in just a moment."

And in a moment, they were.

CHAPTER EIGHT

"I demand to speak to the Ruler of this country!" The British Ambassador was

a handsome and wonderfully regal Englishman, the kind whose manner and breeding

both impressed and intimidated the ladies.

His wife, a petite young beauty, stood nervously behind him wringing her

hands.

"And I said," said Tanzi patiently, "That the Sultan may speak when he has

finished with his chess game and not before."

"Please, your lordship, I am certain it shall be concluded soon," said Sara

politely. "King to Queen's Pawn."

On the board, the Sultan looked up with uncertainty. "That means one forward

and one to the right," said Tanzi with impatience. "Imagine a Sultan who doesn't

know chess. Show him, Sara." Before the Sultan could protest, Sara's finger

gently nudged him towards the right square, next the queen. He gazed up at the

chess piece, nearly seven feet tall by his reckoning. "Must she be so large?" he

asked. "The King is the most important piece, you told me."

"But the queen is the most powerful, much as in real life, Oh Sultan,"

explained Tanzi. Bishop checks king." She tapped the proper space, and the

bishop, actually court cleric, nervously sprinted across the board to the

designated square, almost dropping his crook in the process.

All the other pieces - pawns, rooks, knights - were living as well. Only the

queens were sculptures, there being no women of that size available. "You see,"

said Tanzi, "The Sultan wished to be the tallest man in the kingdom, but he

didn't say anything about being restored to his former size."

"So when Tanzi wished that he retain his current size, the Genie did the most

logical thing and shrank all the other men of the kingdom," c

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