1289, Samaria - the Leopard ''Are you listening to me?'' the Leopard roars, the indomitable darkness of his gaze having brought the young infidel to his knees. ''Listen to me, why do you doubt me? How can you doubt the word of something greater than yourself?'' The infidel quivers under the tongue of the lash, but his stare is sustained, and in it there''s an increasing awareness of how close he has come, and how much closer he can still advance in awareness. The Leopard likes this belligerent show of self-assurance and the blatant attack on his deeply ingrained philosophies. ''I don''t understand,'' the young man moans. ''Read me more. Force me to understand.'' The Leopard grins salaciously as he tugs on his beard. His coils of thickly plaited hair fall around his bronzed shoulders.

Within the coils sparkle beads made of the finest jewels; tourmaline, topaz, aquamarine. A breeze flutters the pages of the scroll and he licks his lips salivating, remembering; remembering how, driven by a storm, he came upon the cave, and while his eyes moved over the cave paintings - such beautiful heartrending pictures of ancient pain - he''d suddenly noticed the loose stone in the wall concealing the ancient texts. Unfurling them, he was amazed to find through some kind of prescience he could read the strange script in the curious ancient tongue. The texts were a Bible of savage lust, bestowed on mankind by an ancient race from long ago. ''For centuries men have dreamt of reaching ultimate sexual rapture. Why would they sense such a thing existed, why would they dream about it, if it was an illusion?'' he continues. ''The jeu is testimony that once one man felt such rapture and, through the secret teachings contained in these scrolls, he can feel it again. Is it love? Is it lust? Is it passion?'' He''s pacing the floor, the young man quivering with desire as he stares at the Leopard''s clenched buttocks, barely covered by the thinnest leather thong.

''Is there one driving force behind the human urge to experience spiritual or sexual Nirvana, or is the state of sexual ecstasy a tangled ball of strands beyond human understanding? This -'' he waves the scrolls ''- this set of laws is in the manner of a game, set forth and destined to be played by a master gamesman according to a series of carefully executed moves, taking the postulant and his master on a physical, mental, and spiritual journey through the senses and emotions. Eventually, at the end of this exquisite carnal journey - this lengthy period of preparation - they will have reached such a state of sexual humility they are ready for the sacred words, the sacred bliss the scrolls talk about. Like all philosophies it sounds like an impossible dream, doesn''t it?'' He''s now rubbing his whip across his lips. ''But practitioners of the arts of sexual ecstasy know such a state exists and there''s only one way to achieve it through domination, masochism, submission.'' ''Who was the first one? Who made this philosophy - if indeed it can be called a philosophy, for I''m inclined to see in it some religious aspect,'' the young man argues peremptorily, sitting up, hands bound, shivering from so many lashes and the delicious creeping sensations which kiss the surface of his skin. The Leopard turns around. ''I know not if it was one or a thousand and one?'' He grins mischievously. ''I don''t even know if it''s of entirely human origin, since it feels to me like a dark kind of alchemy.

I sense something greater than man made it; that it''s a key to a door of awakening in senses and pleasures which tantalizes men to discover that enigma of all enigmas, a human''s need for lust, and in ever greater quantities. The biggest question is whether there is a master brave enough to inflict such tests on a postulant? Is there a postulant strong enough to bear such exacting tests? Well, surely there has to be. That tangled ball I speak about - well, my friend, it''s just a case of slowly unravelling and teasing apart the knotted stuff of who we are as breathing, sexual creatures. At the heart of that tangled ball exists a pot of gold.'' Konstantine Kopalski is now wetting his lips, and it creates a hot stirring in the Leopard''s loins just to see that hunger in his eyes. For a man from the freezing and barbarous lands of the north, the youthful crusader has a zeal and hot sexuality about him which far surpasses the slaves of Samarkand. The Leopard tugs at his beard again. ''But what is it? Give me an answer; you seem so reluctant to,'' Konstantine demands.

''If you wish for me to come on such a journey, feed this fire, Leopard. Don''t just couch it in fancy philosophy, explain to me the ultimate goal.'' The Leopard is gazing at Konstantine''s pale skin; the young man has the eyes of a god. He suppresses an inner cry of jubilation. Why, it''s true, it''s always been true, he thinks, how can I fail when the forces of natural cause and effect are with me? The elements have always guided and shaped my destiny, and as they once curled up the dust from the desert floor to drive me to the cave of scrolls, so they have swept up, captured, and brought to me through artifice yet another gift - but this time the foretold herald. The Leopard knows that Konstantine Kopalski is the one to become the first postulant and he already craves the boy''s lithe and greedy body. ''If I must, I call it rapture and euphoria, Konstantine. No, more than that, I call the game sexual exaltation.

''.