“Despite the operation which made you fit to guard my wives, you were caught pleasuring my… um, 37th wife… manually.”
The sultan stretched back, robe flowing by his side, and nodded sharply. The axe fell; the eunuch staggered, blood gushing from his now stumped wrists.
“Never will you touch my wives,” sneered the sultan.
The eunuch swayed, then threw himself at the sultan’s groin, teeth bared. The guards pulled him away, his master’s genitals in his mouth.
“Nor will you, majesty,” were his last words as he died.