Date: Tue, 06 Jan 2004 16:51:52 -0700
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: ST: "The Chosen One From Nongkhai: Part Six: Eucalyptus" (m/b)

			   Part Six: Eucalyptus

The next day Lord Phanomyong met with his Generals all day, and even the
delight of planning his strategy, and the anticipation of the glory of
battle, could not keep his mind off the Chosen One. That night as his
Generals dispersed throughout the land, he ate alone, for he knew if he saw
the boy he would not be able to resist spending the evening with him, and
he needed his rest.  After his repast, he lay down, and he twisted and
turned, not because of the impending invasion, but because all the
Favourite Son of the Great God Xiu could think about was a young boy with
butterscotch-coloured skin and almond-shaped eyes and a small wicker basket
of oils.

Finally, in the dark of night, he arouse, and after sending his personal
attendant on an errand of the utmost secrecy and waiting for his return, he
mounted his steed and headed south with his most trusted followers. He and
his men rode hard until the sun broke, and spent the daylight in hiding at
the home of a loyal and trusted noble. As he lay down to rest that morning,
he took out the object he had sent his attendant to obtain, a simple,
unwashed, white thong, and holding it to his nose, he lay down, and fell
asleep. That afternoon he exercised in the courtyard. It had been many
years since he had ridden into battle and he practised long and hard, and
the exercise was exhausting. However, as soon as the sun had set, the
warrior-lord and his trusted men mounted and travelled south until the sun
broke in the morning, at which time they sought refuge in the home of
another trusted follower. The mighty warrior-lord fell asleep the moment he
lay down, a white thong held close to his face.

Travelling by night or in small unassuming groups by day, seven days later
the army of Lord Phanomyong gathered along the southern border where slabs
of stone engraved with the eye of the tiger marked the boundary between the
two lands. Lord Phanomyong was a wise and experienced warrior, and he knew
that might or right did not always win battles, but stealth did.  When the
army was assembled, Lord Phanomyong gave the signal, and the army of the
Land of the Tiger Eye invaded the Principality of Mythar. They marched
across the land, a wave of fierce warriors from the north invading village
after village where they captured the men, but they neither slaughtered
them nor amused themselves with them, but rather, they bound them and took
everyone who had ever engaged in the ceremony of Khawrianphukta, the ritual
that marked the Age of Coming, back across the border into the Land of the
Tiger Eye. The homes and crops they neither pillaged nor burned, and the
women and children they did not ravage, though the oldest boy of those who
had not reached the Age of Coming in each village was blindfolded and taken
north, where he was allowed to see the welfare of the fathers and brothers
and grandfathers of the village. He was then sent back to his village along
with the oldest boy of the other villages to assure those who had been left
behind that their loved ones were safe.

As Lord Phanomyong penetrated deeper into the southern Principality, he
became aware of the beauty of the dark-skinned boys of the southern
land. Their skin was as dark as that of the jaguar that inhabited their
land, and even the palms of their hands and the soles of their feet were
darker than that of any peoples he had ever seen. It being a hot land, even
hotter than the Land of the Tiger Eye, they often went about naked, even
those who were past the Age of Coming, but boys of that age had never
interested the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle other than as ornaments for
foreign dignitaries to admire.

Despite the unique appearance of the dark skinned, preadolescent boys, and
even though they exhibited those characteristics of young boys before the
Age of Coming that boys exhibited everywhere and that he so admired, Lord
Boroma Phanomyong, 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 did not claim one to accompany him in his tent at night despite the
temptation. To release one's seed, whether it be through the services of a
boy or a woman, while engaged in battle was taboo for all men, even the
ruler of the land, for it is well known when a man is at war, engaging in
sex of any nature would rob him of his strength and vitality and would dull
his mind and his senses. There were those who disobeyed the command, but
the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle was not one of them, and those who did,
seldom survived the war.

Besides, there was another rule, one that applied only to the Favoured Son
of the Great God Xiu, and that was that as long as there was a Chosen One
at Chiangmai, he would never touch another boy in any other way than to
caress his cheek or his buttocks in admiration.  There were times in the
past when he'd been tempted to change that rule, for as the Favoured Son of
the Great God Xiu he could make and discontinue any rule he wished, but he
had always resisted the temptation. On this campaign, the uniqueness of the
boys and the pain of being away from the Chosen One made the temptation all
the more difficult to resist, especially upon seeing a particularly
attractive boy. He may have been the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu, but
he was, after all, also a man.

He did resist, however, with the help of that special possession he had
sent his personal attendant to obtain. Each night he lay down in his tent
and took out that small white thong that he carried with him always and
that after all those days still carried the scent of the
butterscotch-skinned boy back in Chiangmai. His prayers to the gods to look
favourably on this campaign also included a request to look favourably upon
the boy he'd left behind, and though some might find it strange that he did
not include his wife nor any of his concubines nor any of his sons by
either in a similar request, to question so would reveal one knows nothing
of the way of the Lord of the Land of the Tiger Eye nor of its people. A
man could have many wives, concubines, or sons, but the Favoured Son of the
Great God Xiu could only have one Chosen One.

Finally at Laotsung the army of Saotuathaa, Prince of Mythar, and the army
of Lord Phanomyong, Lord of the Land of the Tiger Eye, met. Many were
killed on both sides, but the army of the Land of the Tiger Eye was buoyed
up by the villages they had conquered and was driven hard by the Generals
by order of Lord Phanomyong, and was victorious.  That night Lord
Phanomyong rejoiced, for although the battle had only begun, that day the
destiny of the war had been determined. The old and wise warrior knew that
who had drawn first blood would be passed from mouth to ear and spread
across the land. While that news would encourage his men, it would spread
fear throughout his enemy.

And so it came to pass, and though the battle was fierce, and both sides
suffered the deaths of many good men, before the moon had passed through
one full cycle the army of Mythar had been defeated, and choosing death as
more honourable than defeat, Prince Saotuathaa fell upon his sword before
he could be captured.

Having no descendants, rule of Mythar reverted to the cousin of the late
Prince, who found no dishonour in accepting the offer to rule over the land
in the name of Lord Boroma Phanomyong, 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, for he would never have become a ruler had the
natural order of things had been allowed to play out, and so the
Principality of Mythar became the great province of Mythar, one of many
great provinces in the Land of the Tiger Eye. The men of the villages who
had been captured returned to their villages, delighted to find them
standing, and their loved ones unharmed, and they paid homage to their new
Lord, for life for the common man under Lord Phanomyong was really not much
different from life under the late Prince Saotuathaa.

And so Lord Phanomyong headed back to Chiangmai, rising before the sun and
riding until it disappeared below the horizon each day, and though there
were those who would claim he missed the Land of the Tiger Eye, and others
who would claim he missed his wife or this or that concubine, those who
knew their Lord, knew whom he missed, and that was a slight young boy with
dark black hair, skin the colour of butterscotch, and large, dark brown,
almond-shaped eyes.

Although it was evening when he arrived at his palace, and he was tired and
sore, he went directly to his bedchamber and sent for the Chosen One, who
arrived in an open khaki-coloured vest and khaki-coloured pants as if he
were a soldier in the Lord's army, and carried with him his wicker basket.

"My Lord," he greeted, bowing low and respectfully, as one would expect,
but when he looked up there was a smile of affection and in his eyes the
look of one who had greatly missed the other.

"I see you have brought your basket of magic balms," the Lord said with a
whimsical smile, but he too could not hide his joy at seeing the Chosen One
after all these days.

"The magic is that the gods have returned you safely to Chiangmai, my
Lord," the boy replied respectfully as he bowed his head.

"Well, it will take magic to make me forget the aches and pains of this old
body," the warrior- lord replied. "You would not by chance really be an old
magician in the guise of a boy, would you?"

"I am but your humble servant," the boy responded with a boyish giggle, his
dark brown eyes sparkling with merriment. "I am nothing more than your
Chosen One, selected to bring you pleasure. But I do have, my Lord, an oil
and a massage that the brother of my mother has told me can sooth the
muscles and the mind."

"And would you have me, the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu and the
Fierce Tiger of the Jungle who has caused the death of a Prince and
obtained the wealth of a mighty principality, lay on my back and allow my
limbs to be bound to my bed, or to assume the position of the fish by your
command?" Lord Phanomyong asked with a smile.

"For this massage, my Lord, I would tie you to your bed in a prone
position," the boy said with all the seriousness that only a young boy can
express.

Lord Phanomyong laughed with such a bellow that the guard at the door
started. "Come then," he announced, "but if we are to please me this night,
let us warriors remove our clothing, and let us cleanse this body and this
throat of the dust of the road first." Calling for a bowl of warm water and
a wash cloth and for rice wine for himself and coconut milk for the boy,
the warrior-lord tossed off his travel clothes while the boy stepped out of
the uniform the elderly woman who had become his teacher and his servant
had chosen for him.

So Lord Phanomyong took out a mat and sat lotus style on the floor while
the Chosen One wet the cloth and wiped the dust of the road from his
master's body and the master drank the rice wine and the Chosen One drank
his coconut milk. The warrior-lord then lie on the bed on his stomach, and
the boy tied his wrists and his ankles to the four corner posts of the bed,
though this time loosely. He then opened his wicker basket and took out one
of the brown earthenware jars and opened it. Although he could not see it,
Lord Phanomyong knew what the oil was as the sharp, camphoric odour of the
oil of eucalyptus assaulted his nose and caused his eyes to water.

Pouring a small amount of the oil in his palm and rubbing his palms
together, the boy knelt on the bed beside his Lord and began to massage his
right hand, wrapping his fingers around each digit and pulling on it as a
farm lad might milk a goat. He continued on, massaging the tendons and
chords along the back of his hand, and then firmly kneading and massaging
his forearms and biceps of both arms. The boy had noticed his Lord had lost
some of his underarm fat, and that his arm muscles were much more solid
than the last time he had massaged them.

He continued on to the warrior-lord's shoulders, and the man sighed as the
boy worked the knots and tenseness out of his muscles. With an expertise
that no concubine could begin to meet, the boy prodded and caressed,
kneaded and squeezed, and worked the oil into his master's cramped muscles,
and slowly the stiffness and weariness disappeared. The large bruises on
his hips, and the deeper cuts to his legs the boy was careful to avoid,
knowing the eucalyptus would only further irritate them. Gradually the Lord
began to feel relaxed, and gradually his stiffness and pain
disappeared. The way he had felt earlier that evening as he'd ridden into
Chiangmai, he would never have imagined it possible.

He also began to feel the stirring of arousal in his loins, and although he
had wished such a thing would happen, he hadn't for a moment thought it
would really be possible after such a long and strenuous ride. The deftness
of the boy's fingers as he touched first one and then another pleasure zone
caused Lord Phanomyong to marvel at his skill and caused ripples of erotic
pleasure to caress his body. Slipping his hand between his Lord's outspread
legs, the boy found his swelling member and pulled it back so that pointed
toward his feet as it would in its usual position, it peaked out from
beneath the warrior-lord's large nut sack.

The boy's oiled hands ran over his master's buttocks, kneading them as a
woman might knead two lumps of dough, and caressing them as a man might
caress the breasts of his concubine.  Gradually the stiffness from hours of
sitting in the saddle faded and was replaced by a ticklish arousal that
resulted in a welcome stiffness elsewhere. The boy continued down to
massage his Lord's thighs, easing the strain of straddling his warhorse
from sunrise to sunset, and causing ripples of arousal to speed along the
Sen from his Lord's thighs to his member, which began to throb with
desire. He continued on, massaging his master's calves and his feet and
easing their soreness from supporting his weight and the weight of his
armour.

The boy's slight fingers danced along the backs of his master's sensitive
inner thighs, barely touching them and causing his swollen member to quiver
and ooze out the first droplet of pre- cum. Lord Phanomyong had not engaged
in sex since leaving Chiangmai, not even with the most beautiful of the
women who were willing to thank their new Lord for his compassion in not
taking the lives of their fathers or brothers. And, as tempted as he was,
he did not sample the dark black boys of the villages he passed through on
the way home, not even when the elders had heard of his particular delight
in the bedchamber and had offered the choicest boys in the village in
thanks for not ravaging their woman or pillaging their crops.

So after long abstinence his one-eyed cobra was quick to spit its clear
venom. The boy reached down and with his first finger he spread that clear
droplet over the reddish-purple plum of his master. Feeling the boy's
fingertip gently spreading his clear offering over his knob, the warrior-
lord responded by producing more, which the boy spread further over his
master's reddish-purple plum. The feel of his sticky juice on the head of
his cock, the pressure of the boy's finger, and the sharp bite of the
eucalyptus oil, like the bite of a winter storm, was highly erotic. Lord
Phanomyong's breathing grew heavier as the stimulation of his glans rippled
down one of the shortest of his Sen to trigger a response in his swelling
nuts. He closed his eyes and concentrated on that stimulation, willing
himself to ejaculate. As he felt the need increasing in his loins, he
concentrated all the harder.

Closer and closer he felt himself approaching that point as the boy
continued to run a single fingertip over his exposed glans. Deeper and
deeper his breathing became as the tension built up in his loins and he was
sure this time that he was going to ejaculate.  Suddenly the boy's
forefinger jabbed at the base of his nut sack and he groaned loudly as the
urge to shoot out his seed was thwarted. He tried to shake loose of the
boy's finger but no matter how he twisted or raised his hips in the air and
crashed them back down on the bed, the boy's first finger remained pressing
down on the spot as if it was attached to his body.

His desire having faded away, he concentrated on the massage of his
buttocks as the boy ran his fingertips lightly over his backside once
again. Within a short time, he found himself rapidly approaching that point
of ejaculation once more. His long period of abstinence had heightened his
sensitivity, making the pleasure of his erection and the approach of his
orgasm all the more intense. Figuring the boy would be surprised at his
quick recovery, he very slowly and carefully began to rock his body while
the boy massaged his buttocks and his back. He concentrated on the pleasure
of his throbbing cock pinned under his body and protruding between his legs
rubbing against the satin sheets of his bed, and memories of hours of such
pleasure during his teenage years heightened his pleasure.

As he approached his climax once again, he smiled at his deviousness, but
then a man who could out strategy a neighbouring Prince should be able to
out strategy a mere boy who had not yet reached the Age of Coming. Slowly
he rocked his body to and fro as best he could under the restraints of his
bonds, pressing his stiff member against the smooth sheets. In its pinned
position, he pushed it toward his feet as he thrust his hips down and then
dragged it back as he drew his hips forward, the boy dutifully massaging
his buttocks as he gyrated his hips and unaware of his intention. Closer
and closer he approached until he inhaled sharply, and drove his body
downward only to feel the sudden pressure of the boy's finger below his
swollen pomegranates once more. He wanted to scream as his body was racked
with his second dry orgasm so soon after the first. He wanted to scream
with the pleasure of his orgasm, and he wanted to scream angrily because of
the pleasure denied him.  He arched his body and gritted his teeth with the
sweet pain, made all the more torturous but the unexpected thwarting of his
plan, and made all the more powerful riding on the waves of his first dry
orgasm.

"Did my Lord find pleasure in this evening?" the boy asked sometime later
with a whisper, his warm breath blowing in his master's ear.

"The Chosen One has done what he said he would, and has done it well," Lord
Phanomyong replied with a sigh. "Untie me and lay here with me, so I may
feel your smooth body curled up in front of mine, and I swear in the name
of the Great God Xiu, I shall make no attempt to take your virginity."

And so the boy untied him, and curled up in the curvature of his body, and
drifted off to sleep, for he knew his Lord was a man who kept his word. In
the early morning, that time of day when the sprites and tricksters of
field and hearth are about while good and honest men sleep their deepest
sleep, Lord Phanomyong awoke, and feeling the need to pass water, he
slipped from the bed, and taking his chamber pot, relieved himself in a
corner so as not to awaken the boy. As he was about to lie down again, he
spotted the boy's wicker basket beside the bed, and curious, he crouched
down and raised the lid.

It was an action he questioned at the last second, but it was too late.
Glancing at the contents of the tiny basket, he quickly closed the lid,
regretting his actions even though what he had seen was not something that
came as a surprise. The boy's wicker basket could only contain so many jars
of oils, and the pleasures he was providing had to come to an end at some
time. It was the physical confirmation, the reality of seeing the jars
lined up in the basket, that forced the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle to
accept the reality of his situation. Inside in two neat rows, were six
small earthenware jars. That left only two they had not yet sampled.

Next: Part Seven: Peppermint