Date: Sun, 28 Dec 2003 15:06:27 -0700
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "The Chosen One.  Part Two: The Days of Admiration and Display" (m/b)

          Part Two: The Days of Admiration and Display

The next day the boy was awakened as the sun began to rise and was given a
cold bath that caused his skin to turn to gooseflesh and which caused his
privates to shrink to the size of his baby cousin's. He was told it was
good for his circulation, and he was only a boy so he accepted that his
elders knew best, but he would have liked warm water just the same.  When
he stepped out of the tub and wrapped himself in the huge fleece blanket,
he found a breakfast of assorted fruit waiting for him, more fruit than he
would have had to eat in a week back in his village, and fruit that he had
never before seen. He bit into one of the latter, a pale orange fruit with
a skin covered with a fuzzy down, and was surprised by the sweet flesh and
abundant juice that flowed around his chin and dribbled down his naked
chest. After he ate, he washed his sticky fingers and wiped off his thin,
smooth chest and put on the new set of clothes which had been laid out for
him, a pair of short pants made of a soft, iridescent blue material and
with legs half as long as his hand from wrist to fingertip, a fine vest of
the same colour but not as shiny with gold trim of a most intricate design,
and a pair of soft-soled thongs. He left his vest open, as the day before,
and wrapped the fine silver necklace he had worn the previous evening about
his neck so it formed six loops of increasing sizes. Compared to his
peasant clothes, the strange material of his shorts and vest was so light
he could barely feel its weight, and it felt slippery against his
skin. When he walked his privates rubbed against the strange material,
causing his little worm to raise its head and he reached down and fingered
it absentmindedly as a boy is wont to do.

After he had dressed and had been approved by the elderly woman who had
bathed him that morning and the day before, he was taken to the audience
chamber of Lord Phanomyong.  Beautiful woven tapestries and silk paintings
hung on the walls, and expensive and beautiful vases and statues filled the
room, dominated by the huge ornate throne at the far end. As the Lord,
resplendent in his deep purple silk robe with an intricate pattern of water
lilies and colourful orchids and with a large sapphire pin holding his
coiled topknot in place, entered the room, the boy smiled up at him before
respectfully bowing so his head was parallel to his waist, but the great
man did not seem to even notice his presence.

Throughout the day, the boy would announce to the clerk who sat just
outside the door whom his master would see, and he would escort the
individual across the audience chamber to his Lord and then stand a
respectful three steps behind the throne of the great man, ready to refill
his drinking bowl with rice wine, to hand him his quill and ink, or to take
the documents he'd signed, wrapped in ribbon and sealed with wax imprinted
with the royal seal to the clerk who saw that they were dispensed
with. Although his legs ached from standing and he wished that he could sit
for even a moment, he remained at his station and performed his simple
duties. This was not as hard work as working in the rice paddies, and it
was at least slightly more interesting.  At first he listened carefully to
what was being said and he studied the dignitaries who were given audience,
but he eventually grew tired of that. He did not understand what they were
talking about in most cases, and what he did understand was about treaties
and commerce and other boring things that adults find interesting. They
were all elderly men, all with wrinkled and spotted skin and either greatly
overweight or exceedingly thin. Those of great importance he served rice
wine, and those of lessor importance he served from the jug to which water
had been added to the wine. Those of no importance, or who had fallen in
disfavour with his Lord, were served nothing.

Most ignored him, as if he could not be seen, and the remainder openly
admired him. His open vest and his shorts had been purposefully chosen to
expose as much of his smooth, slender body as was decent, and the colour
chosen to contrast with his soft butterscotch-coloured skin. Of course
those who admired his beauty congratulated the Lord for his good fortune in
having found such a remarkable boy. Some did so because they hoped by doing
so they would garner the Lord's favour, but most did so because they
appreciated the state of boyhood just as they appreciated the other fine
things that had been selected for the audience chamber. A few expressed
their congratulations with a shine of desire in their eyes, and those
individuals in particular pleased Lord Phanomyong the most, for he also saw
envy and covetousness in those eyes, and envy and covetousness are true
expressions of reverence. He also knew he was dealing with men who were not
unlike himself at least in that one aspect, and those with like interests
form stronger bonds. Above all, he knew how he could garner their support
in the future should he need it.

The Lord himself, in response to the covetous glance of a respected peer at
the boy, or to demonstrate his lack of interest to those who were humbling
themselves to regain his favour, or at times simply in boredom, glanced
with admiration at his newest Chosen One himself, delighting in his beauty,
and in the swelling desire in his loins which was intensified by his
anticipation of the pleasure the lithe boy would bring. It was not easy
being the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu, Fierce Tiger of the Jungle,
Defender of the People, and Master Over all That Is, Was, and Will Be, but
there were advantages, and having his carnal desires satisfied by the most
beautiful boys in the Land of the Tiger Eye was one of them.

That night he once again sent for the boy to join him in his evening
repast, but this time he watched the boy more closely, noting his every
move and his every expression of emotion. As the boy daintily picked up and
nibbled with extended teeth the vinegared snail from the Land of the Rising
Sun far to the east for the first time, the warrior-lord shared in turn his
apprehension, awe and then delight as he finished off the delicacy with a
boyish enthusiasm, and he recalled with fondness when such simple pleasures
were new to him too. He made no attempt to hide back his laughter as the
boy scooped up the pale green paste with his thin wafer and popped it in
his mouth, and then with wide-eyed shock quickly tried to quell with gulps
of coconut milk the fire the horseradish from the northern provinces had
ignited. The boy turned red, both from the flames that he was sure were
shooting from his mouth and from his embarrassment, but when he finally was
able to breathe again, he giggled as he shyly looked up at his widely
grinning Lord, and the two felt a warmth of pleasure pass over them.

As the boy bit into the flesh of the roasted duck and delighted in the
delicate flavour, Lord Phanomyong delighted in the boy's delight. Here was
a boy who like himself at that age dared to try new things, and who like
himself, took delight in the physical pleasures of the body.  As the boy
innocently licked his greasy fingers, the Lord's thick member throbbed with
desire and began to rise in response to the sight and the thoughts conjured
up in his mind.  He wanted to tear off the boy's clothing and throw him on
the table with the rest of the tender morsels and savour for the first time
his tiny, tender eggs and soft little noodle. He wanted to straddle the boy
and watch as the boy's greasy lips slid down his thick, engorged
sausage. Most of all, he wanted to turn the boy over and slip his sword in
the boy's warm, moist, satiny sheath.  Although a man of impulse, the
warrior-lord held himself in check, for he knew anticipation would make the
acquisition all the sweeter when the time came.

For five days Lord Phanomyong displayed and admired the boy. The youngster
quickly learned his new role, and although he missed his mother and father,
his brothers and sisters, and his mother's brother, he did not dwell on
what had been and what he could not change, nor did he think of the morbid
fate the Great God Xiu had chosen for him. He lived for the day, as most
boys do, performing his duties, and amusing himself with his own boyish
pastimes. In the days that followed he learned to study the men who had
come to speak to his Lord, and to learn from their body language their true
intentions. For the wizened and powerful nobles who treated him as if he
was invisible, he would often imagine that was so and would think up
fanciful and sometimes wicked things that he'd do to them. For those nobles
who clearly desired him, he would thrust out his pelvis, and look at them
with his smoldering, dark brown eyes, or lick his upper lip slowly and
seductively while looking at them with the wide-eyed innocence of a child.
He knew the men would think of him later with pleasure, and he knew the
greater the covetousness in the eyes of the men the greater the pleasure of
his Lord, and so he played his role eagerly, for he had been chosen to
please.

With each passing day, Lord Phanomyong's desire grew. On the sixth, he was
so filled with lust that his loins ached for the youth, and the image of
him caressing the boy's smooth, butterscotch skin and the boy caressing him
with those fine, delicate fingers was the first picture to enter his mind
as he stepped into the audience chamber and was greeted by the wide,
innocent smile of the boy before he bent low in humble obeisance. That
image predominated his mind for the rest of the day.

The two peasants who had brought before him their dispute over who was
responsible for mending the stone fence between their properties, knelt
respectfully and silently before him as he stared blankly at them for so
long that their legs had gone numb and their knees ached with pain.  When
at last he pronounced that since it was time which had caused the stone
fence to fall into disrepair, they must have been good neighbours and
friends for a long period, and should together repair the boundary and
together gift the sprite of the stone fence for their long, cordial
relationship, the two men rose weakly to their feet, awed by their Lord's
wisdom and the lengthy thought that he had given their problem, and
grateful for his wise counsel.  They did not know that Lord Phanomyong had
heard dozens of such petitions that year alone, and had made his judgement
minutes after their presentation had begun. Nor would they ever know that
for the past three-quarters of a candlemark Lord Phanomyong had been
imagining the new delights that he had decided it was time for the Chosen
One to discover, and he was not thinking of new foods.

The merchant who followed them and requested the Lord's permission to
increase his import of silks from their neighbour to the north thought that
the smile on his Lord's face was caused by the thoughts of the fine silks
that were produced by the northern spinners.  That Lord Phanomyong's smile
was because his member had grown erect and was leaking that unique, clear
nectar that a man produces in anticipation of the joy of planting his seed
would have disappointed, but not surprised, the merchant. While he waited
for his Lord to respond, he himself felt desire swell up in his loins as he
admired the beautiful youth in the dark brown vest and lily-white loin
cloth standing three steps behind the Lord's throne and ready to serve him
with a snap of his fingers. The boy's eyes were as dark as the darkest
chocolate, and he seemed to be looking right at the merchant as he slowly
and seductively licked his upper lip.

When after long last the merchant was granted the trading charter provided
he met certain conditions imposed so that he would not negatively affect
the trade of other merchants, the man was grateful his flowing robes hid
the tower of desire that had risen between his legs. What he did not know
was that his Lord had seen the desire in his eyes, and had tucked away in
the back of his mind for future reference the man's lust for fine young
boys. It would not be that difficult a desire to fulfil for a man in Lord
Phanomyong's position should he ever need the merchant to provide some
other services for him on his trips to the powerful and potentially
threatening empire to the north.

So the day progressed, and by the end of the day's business, Lord
Phanomyong was tempted to seize the boy and take him there bent over his
throne in the audience chamber, but he steeled himself against the lust
drive that had kept his flesh erect and his pre-cum flowing all day. After
waiting this long, partaking of the pleasures of the flesh with the boy in
that manner would be crude. He would postpone such a vulgar expression of
his lust for a later day when he began to grow weary of the boy and needed
such bawdiness to maintain his interest.

He ordered that there be prepared a special meal for that evening, one
consisting of his favourite foods, and those that he'd noticed over the
past five days the boy had particularly enjoyed. So filled with lust was
his mind, and so delighted with the expression of pleasure in the boy's
large, chocolate brown eyes as he sunk his teeth into the tender flesh of
the specially seasoned, roasted duck, with the boyish innocence and charm
as he licked the meat juices from his fingers, and with his sigh of ecstasy
as he closed those sensuous eyes and savoured the sweet almond- flavoured
sugar icing and the banana cream tart that had been prepared specially for
that night, that Lord Phanomyong had eaten his meal without once noticing
the delicate flavours or rich textures of his favourite foods.

They ate slowly, for Lord Phanomyong believed in taking his time and
savouring his food and the boy had quickly learned the pleasure of such a
practice. When at length they were done, he bade the boy join him after the
sun had set to at last perform the duty for which he had been
chosen. Retiring to his bedchambers, he summoned his personal attendant and
gave orders for the evening. The preparations were not unlike those for the
first night of previous Chosen Ones, and included rice wine for himself and
coconut milk for the boy to slake their thirsts, bowls of salted cashews
and almonds, fresh fruit, and plates of sweet chocolate cut into simple
bars and others into fanciful shapes to renew their energies. He had at
first ordered candles scented with apple blossom, and then decided to
switch them with candles scented with the fragrance of pine from the
northern mountains, and finally had switched them with plain candles,
preferring for this evening the pure and unchallenged scent of a boy.

He himself saw that there was plenty of lubricant he did not wish to hurt
the boy and powdered alum to stem any bleeding that might occur, for even
though he had every intention to be gentle, he was a large man in not just
height and weight. It was not his intention to sink his sword up the boy's
sheaf on this, the boy's maiden night mind you. The warrior-lord much
preferred to introduce a new boy to the pleasures of the flesh slowly,
beginning on the first night with the simplest and most widely practised
pleasure of them all, vulgarly called spanking the monkey by those to the
south, and polishing the bamboo cane by those to the north, and by various
other names by nobles and peasants alike. There was much to learn about
that simple pleasure known by soldiers on lonely nights on the battle
field, by priests in their saffron robes who had sworn celibacy, and by
young boys before the Age of Coming, techniques and variations found in
ancient texts that heightened the pleasure far beyond the simple pounding
that the commoner practised. From there, he would instruct the Chosen One
in gradually more intricate and more pleasurable delights of the flesh,
saving that ultimate pleasure a boy can provide a man for the last and
savouring its anticipation.

That was his plan, but the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle nonetheless wanted to
be prepared should the gods decree that this was the night he was to know
the pleasure of taking the boy's prune. He knew from past experience that
once drunk with lust it was his swollen member and Ixichan, the god of male
virility, that made the decisions, not his heart, nor his mind.  So
desirable was this Chosen One, it was highly possible that he would be
unable to resist the temptation, and if the gods willed it, he would be
wrong to disobey them. The Favoured Son of Xiu fluffed the pillows, ordered
a dozen more be brought in, and then had them removed as they made the room
look cluttered. Finally changing into his favourite evening robes, he
examined himself in the large full-length mirror, a gift from a rich and
powerful king far to the west and placed strategically beside the bed. He
had not fussed so much for any other Chosen One, and in truth, had not
fussed so much for his wife, nor any of his ten concubines.

Finally he heard the hollow reeds at the entryway rattle and he turned and
bade the boy to enter.  Sliding open the partition, the boy bowed as was
the custom, and then stepped over the grooved sill and into the room. The
guard in the hallway immediately slid the partition closed, avoiding for
the boy the awkwardness of having to face the Lord, but at the same time
having to turn to close the door. Lord Phanomyong felt a tremor in his
loins as the boy stood respectfully before him. Other than the four
multicoloured silk scarves draped about his neck, he was wearing only a
thin white thong that clearly revealed the outline of his boyhood curved up
over his flat stomach.  He carried with him the wicker basket he'd brought
from his home.

The silk scarves hung loosely about his neck, accenting the butterscotch
colour of his smooth, thin chest and provocatively floating in the air, now
revealing his pert slightly darker nipples and then covering them under a
transparent scarf, and then under an opaque of two silks overlapping while
the other two scarves seductively followed the curve of his chest as it
tapered to his narrow waist. He had the boy slowly turn in a circle, and he
admired the smooth, compact buttocks and the slender thighs of the
man-child. The narrow strip of thong disappeared along the crevice of his
tight, little ass, hiding from his view that exquisite portal to the
wildest delight a man can know.

"What is in the basket?" he asked as he motioned for the boy to come
closer.  It was not unusual for a boy to bring some little treasure from
home, but it was most unusual for a boy to bring it with him to the
bedchambers on that first night.

"My Lord," the boy replied, bowing his head respectfully. "This past year
my mother's brother has been teaching me the practice of Nuad Bo-Rarn. This
basket contains the few humble oils with which I have been trained by my
uncle."

"No oils are used in Nuad Bo-Rarn," Lord Phanomyong advised with an
indulgent smile.  "You are correct, of course, my Lord. But my uncle has
been training me in the new and little known massage as practised at the
Wat Pho in Settakorn, not in the traditional massage as taught by the
venerable Jivaka Komarbhacca, whose teachings still form the basis of the
massage, and for which reason it still bears the traditional name," the boy
advised as if a schoolboy reciting a lesson he had memorized for his
teacher. "With my Lord's permission, I would be honoured to be able to
demonstrate the skill of my honourable uncle as a teacher."

"Very well," Lord Phanomyong agreed with a smile, untying the sash of his
robe and allowing it to fall open to reveal his massive chest and stomach,
and his impressive manhood. "You are not the first Chosen One who has
attempted to delay being pierced by my sword of flesh."

"My Lord," the boy replied, bowing his head low in respect, "I would never
deny my Lord the pleasure that is due him. I have been informed of the
ultimate pleasure that a boy can provide his master, and I accept my
destiny joyfully and with honour. But," he continued with a coquettish
smile as he raised his head and looked at his master with wide, innocent
eyes, "if a boy could extend the pleasure of his master but one extra day,
can that be a wicked thing?"

Lord Phanomyong laughed at the question, at the wit that posed a question
which could have only one possible answer, and at the brashness of the
child for asking it.  "So what is it that you are proposing, Chosen One?"

"Only that if I provide my Lord pleasure like he has never felt before,
pleasure that would make slipping his sword into my sheaf the lesser of the
two pleasures, then my Lord delay knowing me but for a day. For surely, my
Lord, should not the taking of one's chastity be the greater pleasure, not
the lesser?"

"If the pleasure of your massage is as great as you propose, Chosen One,
then I swear it shall be so, but hear this. The pleasure must be like
nothing I have ever before experienced, and it must make the pleasure of
sinking my shaft up your young, virgin portal the lessor delight. If you
fail, then you will bend over and accept your destiny this very night."

"That I would do eagerly, my Lord," the boy replied, "for such is not only
my sworn duty, but my most ardent desire." The sincerity and humility in
the boy's voice was reflected in his eyes, and Lord Phanomyong knew the boy
had spoken the truth.

Next: Part Three: Lavender