I wish to retain all rights to this story. However, I am delighted to grant permission to any person to publish this story as long as there is no charge to the reader and as long as no changes are made to the story.
Copyright 2007. All Rights Reserved.
Chapter 13 – Gifts
Ancient and modern sculptures of phalloi [plural for phallus] have been found in many parts of the world, notably among the vestiges of ancient Greece and Rome…
In anthropology, phallicism or phallic worship refers to the ritual adoration of the human penis, or the phallus. Elements of phallicism have been found in many cultures, including Ancient Greece… - Wikipedia
The Oracle groaned at the first tolling of the temple gong. She groaned again and opened her eyes with the second. She was on her back, and her first view was a dim one of the ceiling in her chamber; it was barely daylight. Jeet lay on his stomach beside her. She turned to look at him and found him looking back.
She rolled onto him, resting her head on the back of Jeet’s shoulder. “They didn’t even ask if we were ready to grant audiences again,” she complained. Anda hugged his back and wrapped her leg over his butt. “I wanted us to stay in bed all day and make up for you being gone from me.”
“It’s revenge for last night and us getting Rufus back,” Jeet murmured. “Or it could be more simple than that; they’re greedy and they may simply want more money.”
The Oracle kissed Jeet’s shoulder, rubbed her check on the soft skin of his back, and pressed her morning erection and warm labia against the cool flesh of his bottom. Then she frowned. “I have to piss.”
Jeet rolled under her, wrapped his arms around her, closed his eyes, and sighed as if he would go back to sleep holding her.
“You’ll be sorry if you don’t let me up,” she warned poking his ribs.
Jeet jumped and grinned. He opened his eyes, kissed her, and let her go. “I have to, too,” he said.
They walked to the chamber pot together, and Jeet removed the cover, keeping his head back from the smell.
“Wait,” the Oracle said, looking out over the open balcony. It was still early. Only one boat was out on the river and it was moving downstream. “Let’s piss off the balcony,” she suggested with a grin.
Jeet laughed. Putting back the pot cover, he tugged her by the hand. They went to the balcony railing and looked out. No one was around. “Come on,” Jeet said, stepping up to the railing. “Let’s see who can piss the farthest.”
The Oracle stepped beside him, just tall enough to clear the top of the railing with her phallus. Jeet wrapped an arm behind her waist, and she wrapped one behind his.
“Well, Alexander, my friend,” Jeet said with a grin. “Think you’re man enough to out-piss me?”
The Oracle frowned, trying to aim her erection down and still loose her stream. “Wait.”
Jeet grinned. “Just like when I’m hard in the morning. It takes a moment to start.”
Just then, the Oracle’s stream arched out.
Jeet let loose with his, and their two piss streams arched together, out over the railing and down onto the side portico of the shrine below. Suddenly Rem was beside them at the railing, on his toes with his loincloth up in front. His stream arched up beside theirs. “This is great!” he said, grinning up at them. “I’ve done it before when nobody was around, but it’s more fun with us all doing it.”
Jeet aimed across their streams. “Sword fight!”
Grinning, the three of them jerked their streams back and forth through each other’s.
They shook off and came back inside. Jeet’s eyes met Rem’s and the younger boy’s smiling face reminded Jeet of what Anda had told him. Jeet frowned.
Rem’s smiled faded when Jeet’s frown did not. Rem backed up, glancing nervously at the Oracle.
“I told him,” she confirmed.
Rem’s eyes went wide and he swallowed hard. He dropped to his knees and pressed his forehead to the floor. “Please don’t send me away, Abij-hah!”
The Oracle came up behind Jeet. “He saw how you came to me yesterday,” she whispered.
Jeet nodded. Rem was prostrating himself exactly the way Jeet had done the day before. “Get up Rem-hah,” Jeet said. “I may want to kick your butt, but I’m not going to send you away.”
Rem looked up grinning. “You called me Rem-hah!”
“I did? Surely that was a mistake,” Jeet said. “I still want to kick your butt.”
With a laugh, Rem jumped to his feet, turned, and bent over. He lifted the back of his loincloth, baring his butt. “Do it!” he said, wiggling his ass.
Jeet put the sole of his foot on Rem’s left butt cheek and gave a shove that sent Rem sprawling onto the Oracle’s bed.
Rem got up laughing. “You can do it again,” he said, wiggling his ass once more. “Or you can wrestle me!” he said, turning to square off against Jeet. “Wrestle me and pin me down and bounce on me and stuff. That’ll be better than kicking my butt.”
“Yeah, sure,” Jeet said. “I know what kind of wrestling you want… horny little bastard. Get out of here. and go get something for the Oracle to eat.”
Rem grinned. “Shall I wake the other eunuchs?”
Jeet shook his head. “If they’re sleeping through that damned gonging, let them sleep.”
Rem turned for the door, but stopped and turned back. “Abij-hah,” he said, quietly. “I wish you still had your balls. I wish you were as horny as I am.”
Jeet shook his head. “Your balls aren’t even working yet. You just have a horny mind.”
“No,” Rem protested. “My balls have been growing… wanna see?” He lifted the front of his loincloth.
Jeet grabbed up his breechcloth from beside the bed, balled it, and threw it at Rem.
Rem fled, laughing.
As Jeet watched Rem run out the door, the Oracle pressed her naked body to his back. Her phallus had begun to rise and he could feel it poke in between the backs of his legs. “You’re beautiful from behind,” she whispered. “I don’t blame Rem for getting horny.”
She turned him around and kissed him while sliding her hand down his belly. “We have time,” she whispered. She closed her hand around his cock, squeezed, and whispered. “I know how to make you horny.”
She kissed his neck, then his chest and belly, dropping slowly to her knees. His cock was thick and lengthening. She rubbed it over her face. “The Oracle kneels to the Abij-hah,” she whispered, catching the scent from between his legs. She took a deep breath. “The Oracle worships the Abij-hah.”
Jeet watched the thirteen-year-old, blond Oracle close her mouth over his crown and felt an immediate shock of sensation as she swirled her tongue over it. His knees almost buckled the way they always did when she did that. She took more of him into her mouth and her hands roamed his belly, inside his legs, up onto the sensitive skin of his empty scrotum. She took him in even farther and squeezed his shaft with her tongue and lips as she pulled her head back. She worked her tongue on the underside of his cock which was quickly growing rigid. She bobbed until it was.
The Oracle pulled off Jeet’s cock and lay back onto the bed, feet toward him. She spread her legs and smiled at him seductively. Planting her heels, she lifted her hips toward him and grabbed between her legs with both hands. She squeezed her labia, pulling her phallus upright between her forearms while swiveling her hips as only a horny young girl can.
Jeet stepped up between her legs, watching her gyrations and stroking his cock.
“Does this look good to you?” Anda asked breathily.
Jeet nodded, dropping to his knees between her legs. He laid the flat of his hand on the underside of her cock and her labia… they were hot, and she ground up against his hand. Moving up, he laid his long erection on her moving vulva.
She was damp. Jeet felt the first drops of precum ooze from the end of his cock. They were ready. He pulled his hips back, grabbed her hips, and held her still as he pressed the head of his cock low between the lips of her labia. They parted over his crown and he pressed forward.
Moments later, Ptolemy waved the other young eunuchs into the chamber. After all, it wasn't as if the boys hadn't seen Jeet and the Oracle having sex before.
Jeet’s little butt pumped between the Oracle's legs. The two were locked in each other's arms, mouths locked together; their pelvises banging with quiet little slaps of bare flesh. Their slender, hairless bodies, copulating, looked oddly prepubescent one moment and adult the next.
Jeet's hips pumped fluidly, and the Oracle, her heels planted for leverage, rocked her pelvis up to meet his thrusts with transparent relish.
The eunuchs stood for a moment, watching and adjusting cocks inside their linen breechcloths. Then Aruli came forward onto the bedding and lay down beside Jeet and the Oracle. He laid his hand on Jeet's moving bottom.
“Damn, he's got a gorgeous ass,” Ptolemy murmured.
Aruli laid his hand over one firm globe, feeling the muscles working. “I like his skin,” Aruli murmured. “It’s so damned smooth.”
“Don't mind them, Oracle,” Jeet murmured loud enough for them all to hear. “They all sleep in that one room downstairs, and they don't understand privacy anymore.”
“I like your butt, too,” she whispered, licking under his ear.
Jin sat down on Jeet and Anda’s other side, and he slid his hand under Jeet’s bobbing butt, down between the backs of Jeet's legs to apply pressure to the Abij-hah’s moving perineum. He matched Jeet’s movements with his hand, rubbing, tickling the soft skin of Jeet’s scrotum.
“Shit, wouldn't the high priests love to put this on display?”
Tazaar asked with a grin.
“Can you imagine? Put the Oracle and Jeet up on the high altar and let them fuck in front of everyone... I bet that would start one damned impressive celebration to the goddess.”
Bantu knelt behind Jin. Caressing the albino boy’s shoulders while Jin rubbed up between Jeet’s legs, Bantu pressed the hardness under his breechcloth to Jin's back. “I'm about ready to start our own celebration,” Bantu said.
Jeet’s cadence suddenly increased, as did the strength of his pumping. The Oracle clutched at his back. The two whimpered and moaned. Jeet drove fast and hard, and his orgasm sparked hers.
The room fell silent when they finished. Even Rem, who had returned with food for the Oracle, stood quietly watching. Jin pulled his fingers from between Jeet's legs and sniffed. He smiled and winked at the others.
The Oracle’s eyes had been closed. She opened them dazedly and glanced at Aruli, still lying beside them.
Aruli smiled. “Ready to eat?”
+ + + + +
“Let me do it,” Bantu begged. “Please, Jeet. I know I'd be good at it. Let it be my duty to go among the supplicants first to examine their gifts, and then I'll show you the one I think you should pick, alright?”
Jeet kissed Bantu’s cheek. “You make the decision, Bantu-hah. If the others agree with you, then it’s a good decision. You do not need to ask me. This will be your duty from now on.”
Grinning, Bantu threw his arms around Jeet and hugged him tightly. Then he bolted for the door.
With an occasional glance at Jarus who hovered in the background, Bantu led the other eunuchs among the two dozen supplicants who wished to see the Oracle that morning. At least, Bantu thought gratefully, Stycus hadn't come.
There were gifts that morning of gold, silver, spices, and fine ointments, but Bantu settled on a pearl as the best gift; a large pearl. He had never seen one before, and this one was beautifully luminescent. Bantu called the other eunuchs together to confer.
“Which did you choose?” Jarus asked as Bantu turned toward the shrine afterward.
“The pearl,” Bantu said defensively.
Jarus nodded. “The best choice.”
Bantu smiled. “Really?”
+ + + + +
As she stood just inside the shrine hall doors, waiting for the rams horns to announce her appearance. The Oracle looked over the various colored booths. Jeet adjusted the combs in her hair and her eyes met his. “I'm going to tell them,” she said. “We decided for me to do it, right?”
Jeet inclined his head. “You are the Oracle, Anda,” he said. “You can change your mind if you want.”
She shook her head.
Jeet smiled sadly. It would happen anyway; sooner or later the “male” in Anda-Alexander – perhaps the female as well – would want to lay with her other eunuchs. Jeet would love her no less. He turned to the others. “The Oracle has something to tell you,” he said.
The young eunuchs had been making final adjustments to each other’s jewelry and limited apparel. They paused and turned toward the Oracle.
She looked at them, then back at Jeet. “How do I tell them?”
Jeet took the Oracle’s hand, pulling her close to his side, and faced the others. “When we made our oaths to each other,” he quietly told them, “the Oracle called you her brothers and husbands.” He nodded toward Aruli. “Aruli told her how it was on each of your hearts to be a husband for her and even to lie with her as a husband lies with his wife.” Jeet gestured around the shrine hall. “The Oracle has decided that the booths will stay up in here, and in the coming week – not tonight because she and I have been apart and wish to sleep together again – but beginning tomorrow night, she will come to you in your booths. She will come to a different one of you each night. She will come to you like a bride and you will lie with her like a husband.”
The eunuchs glanced at each other, a couple of them with surprised smiles. Ptolemy bowed. “Thank you, Oracle,” he said, and the others did likewise.
“Will you be angry with us, Jeet-hah?” Tazaar asked, concerned.
Jeet shook his head. “We have talked it over, Tazaar-hah.”
“Who will the Oracle visit first?” Aruli ask in a hushed voice.
The Oracle extended her free hand to him, and when he stepped forward to take it, she drew him to her and kissed his lips lightly. “Sweet Aruli-hah will be first.”
The rams horns sounded and the shrine doors opened. The Oracle quickly put on her mask.
Bantu led a gentle looking man of middle age and medium stature up the shrine steps. He bowed and lifted the pearl up in his hands for the Oracle. Bantu took it from him, and brought it to her. As she gazed on it and touched it with a finger, Jeet addressed the man.
“What do you ask of the Oracle?”
The man bowed. “I ask the Oracle’s counsel. My eldest son wants me to give him money for a business venture with his friends, but he is young. My brother also asks for money from me, and I have helped him many times. I wish the Oracle to advise me as to which would be best to give my money to.”
Jeet wasn’t sure how to reply. He was still distracted by the Oracle’s plans to sleep with her eunuchs. Jarus, standing close by, distracted him as well. He noticed the priest when they came out onto the portico. Jeet glanced at the high priest now to see if he signaled a suggestion; but Jarus only stared back at him.
Still angry, Jeet thought. Realizing he would get no help from the priest, he turned back to the man.
“Do you trust your son?” he asked. “Do you trust your brother?”
The man nodded. “My brother has always brought me a good return on my investment. But my son is a good son, and he wants to prove himself.”
Jeet took a deep breath. What else should he ask? Obviously, character and trustworthiness were at the bottom of the dilemma. He glanced at the Oracle and at the other eunuchs, then back at the man. “The Oracle will consider your request,” he said.
“Abij-hah,” the man said with a deep bow. “It is well known that the Oracle has second sight. She can tell me which venture will succeed.”
Jeet frowned. “The Oracle will consider your request,” he repeated.
The man bowed back down the steps.
Jeet glanced at Jarus. The priest was frowning.
As the others escorted the Oracle back inside, Jeet approached the priest. “Holy one,” he said with a bow.
“You should have asked him what the son and the brother each intended to do with the money,” Jarus said. “That might have made your answer easier.”
Jeet looked quickly out to the courtyard. The man who had come before the Oracle was already gone among the crowd.
“It will be safest to tell the man to invest with neither,” Jarus suggested.
Jeet frowned, annoyed that the high priest had not helped earlier and was of little help now. “Thank you, holy one,” he said, and then turned to follow the others inside.
+ + + + +
“Abij-hah,” Rufus called from beyond the Oracle’s door.
Jeet set his harp down, glancing at the Oracle. She was still sleeping after their midday meal. Rem appeared from behind the stairway screening wall and followed Jeet out from the chamber.
“You need to come outside,” Rufus said. He turned and Jeet followed, Rem on his heels.
“Do you remember telling a man to bring his little boy today?” Rufus asked as they descended the stairs. “You said you would bless his son.”
“Yes,” Jeet replied. “Is he here?”
“He’s here,” Rufus replied.
Jeet and Rem followed Rufus out through the shrine doors and onto the portico. To one side, where Jeet had blessed the boy, Manu, several days before, two dozen adults stood with as many children.
“Who are all those people?” Jeet asked, surprised.
Rufus shrugged, and failed to suppress a grin. “They’re here to see you.”
Jeet walked on past, Rem following. He recognized the father he had made the promise to and approached him.
The man bowed. “Abij-hah,” he said. “I brought my son for you to bless, as you said you would.”
“Who are these other people?” Jeet asked.
The man bowed again and pointed to a woman close by who had two small children clinging to her. “Beloved One, this is my sister.” He pointed to a man holding a baby. “My brother.” He pointed to another man. “Another brother.” He pointed to a young couple. “My neighbors.”
The man identified the others with him and then bowed once more. “Beloved One, they also wish you to bless their children.”
Jeet glanced at Rufus who was grinning from ear to ear. He glanced at Rem who looked as bewildered as himself. Then he turned to the man once more. “If they wish it, I will bless them as well.”
The adults in the group exchanged relieved smiles and ushered their children forward. The man he had made the promise to pushed his son up to Jeet. The boy was small and so Jeet knelt in front of him. Rem stepped up behind, resting a hand on Jeet’s shoulder.
“What is your son’s name?” Jeet asked.
“This is Daavee,” the man said. “He is my first born. He will be a sandal maker like me.”
Jeet stared at the man a moment. The father’s pride in his son sparked a distant memory for Jeet; one of his own father’s face. He turned back to the boy and pulled him into an embrace before the memory could bring hurt. Jeet placed a hand on the boy’s head and closed his eyes. “May the good god who protects me, protect you.” He stroked the little boy’s back. “May you not be fatherless until you are old, may you always know the love of your father, and may your father always know the love of his son.”
Jeet relaxed his embrace of the boy and looked up. The people around him looked at each other. “Nothing about health and prosperity?” Jeet heard one person ask. The blessing was not what they had expected.
Jeet let the boy go, and stood, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” he said, “if it wasn’t a good blessing.”
Daavee’s father dropped to his knees in front of the Abij-hah and took Jeet’s hand, pressing the back of it to his forehead. “Beloved one,” he said, his voice thick with sudden emotion. “It was a finer blessing than I could have thought to ask.”
“Please, Abij-hah,” said the man holding a baby. He stepped forward, and his wife came with him. “Will you bless my son as well?”
Jeet nodded, and the man held out his baby boy for Jeet to take. “I have never held a baby,” Jeet said, looking up with concern.
“Sit,” the man said, “and I will lay him in your lap.”
Jeet sat, and the man laid the infant boy in Jeet’s lap, showing the young Abij-hah how to cradle the baby’s head.
“He is my first born, Abij-hah.”
Rem leaned in from behind and tickled the baby’s belly. The baby gurgled. Jeet looked from the man to his wife, and then down at the baby. He laid his hand on the baby’s head. “May the good god who protects me grant that you will be the eldest and most esteemed of many brothers,” he said.
The man grinned and bowed. “Thank you, Abij-hah!” he said enthusiastically. Carefully, the mother lifted the baby from Jeet’s lap. Almost immediately, a young girl crawled into Jeet’s lap instead. She grinned up at him with large eyes.
Someone, seeing the crowd, had summoned Jarus, and he came up beside Rufus to watch. Rufus stood near enough to protect the Abij-hah, but not intrude. His amusement was quickly being replaced by surprise and then admiration as he watched one child after another crawl into the lap of the nearly naked Abij-hah. The boy was gentle with each, and the words he spoke were different for each child. They were gracious words, surprisingly wise words from the mouth of a boy who was thirteen.
Child after child came forward and Rem, at first hanging on Jeet’s back, began to help the little ones in and out of Jeet’s lap. Finally, all two dozen children had been blessed, and with many expressions of gratitude, the families left.
Jarus stepped up to the Abij-hah. Rufus followed.
“Did they bring offerings?” Jarus asked. “Did they bring any gifts for the blessings you gave them, Abij-hah?”
Jeet, standing to his feet, brushed off his bare butt, and Jarus couldn’t help but notice the firmness of it.
Jeet shook his head. “All they wanted was for me to bless their children,” Jeet said.
“They should have brought gifts,” Jarus said. “You should not give away your blessing for nothing.”
Jeet looked at him and slowly shook his head. “The good god who protects me, has blessed me, and I have never given him a gift.”
Jarus frowned. “They will not please the gods, these people who come for blessings without gifts,” he warned. “And who is this ‘good god’ who protects you? Is it Cybele? Because she will be offended by those who come without humility, or an offering to show their sincerity, and then demand that she bless them.”
“No,” Jeet said glancing off toward the temple. “It is not Cybele.” He turned back to Jarus. “It cost nothing for me to bless them, holy one. Perhaps they will return with offerings if all goes well in their children.”
Jarus shook his head. “What is done is done, Abij-hah. I hope you are right.” Then the priest turned and walked away.
Rufus came beside the boy and put an arm over Jeet’s shoulders as he had done with his own sons at that age. He gave Jeet an encouraging smile. “You did well today, Abij-hah,” he said.
Jeet smiled back gratefully.
+ + + + +
Jeet led her up the stairs to the top of the temple wall. There was no moon and the night was black out beyond the light of the torches. The guard greeted them as they passed him and ventured out toward the river atop the wall.
Past the torches, out toward the parapet, the night wasn’t as black as it had seemed. The sky was ablaze with stars. A light breeze came off the river.
At the parapet, far above the river below, Jeet pulled the Oracle to him and kissed her lightly. She ran her hands over his bare shoulders and back as he slipped his hands under her gown. He found her breasts and caressed them while she caressed the globes of his bottom and pulled their middles together.
Their kiss ended and Jeet rested his forehead on hers. The Oracle worked at his belt, dropping it, and his breechcloth fell to the ground. She closed her hand around his cock. It felt heavy in her hand, though not yet rigid. She slid the soft skin up and down.
Jeet lifted off her garments, dropping them to the ground beside his breechcloth. He took her phallus into his hand as she had taken his; hers was stiff. Holding each other with an hand behind the small of the back, they stroked one another, and kissed.
A stronger puff of wind blew Jeet’s hair across their faces. They pulled their heads back, shaking their hair back out of the way. Jeet moved them sideways and up beside one of the benches. He lifted one of the Oracle’s legs, setting her foot up on the bench. Then bending his knees, he aimed his cock up and found the flush, firm lips of her labia. He rubbed his damp crown there while she steadied herself with her hands on his shoulders. Finding her opening, he entered and felt the sleeve of her warm, damp vagina slide over his crown. Straightening his knees, he rose until he was solidly up into her.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and he grabbed her fleshy buttocks, holding them tightly as he eased the rest of the way in. They pressed the sides of their faces together, and moved their hips to meet each other.
“Jeet-hah,” she whispered.
“Anda-hah,” he whispered back.
“If that is what the Oracle will be doing with all of you the next seven nights, then should I stay away?” Cyndur asked, stroking Tazaar’s hair.
Tazaar lifted his head from Cyndur’s shoulder to look into Cyndur’s eyes. “At least until after my night with the Oracle,” Tazaar said. “We can still make love in the afternoons when you come to teach us swimming.”
Cyndur rolled up onto his side; Tazaar rolled to his back, resting the back of his head in the crook of Cyndur’s arm. Cyndur slid his hand down his young lover’s belly. “Just remember, Tazaar-hah,” Cyndur whispered. “You’re bound to me, too.”
+ + + + +
The night grew still. Jeet took a deep breath, gazing up at the stars. Besides Anda’s cum between their stomachs, there was now a thin layer of sweat. Jeet took another deep breath, enjoying the warm sliding of Anda’s damp belly on his as he breathed. She had fallen asleep on him, and he stroked her back while he lay awake thinking.
He liked the man who had come to supplicate before the Oracle that day. It seemed wrong – very wrong – to simply make up an answer to give him. What if the answer was wrong? What if it caused the man harm?”
Jeet gazed at the starry sky and gently stroked the Oracle’s back. “Oh, good god who protects me,” he whispered, “in a dream, or in some other way, please let me know what the Oracle should tell this man so that he prospers and comes to no harm.”
+ + + + +
“The Oracle has an answer for you,” Jeet said to the man kneeling on the shrine portico. The crowd that morning was small, but interested. They pressed closer.
Jeet thought back to his dream in the early hours of the morning… of the young man he knew to be this man’s son… with his friends, buying slaves to sell at the capital; to make money, yes, but also so the young men could have sex with many slaves, a lot of sex. In his dream, he saw the young man grow cruel and evil. And in the same dream, he saw a man he knew to be the boy’s uncle – his father’s brother. A man without a son of his own; a man who would have loved the young man. There was more in the dream, and Jeet saw many things he knew could happen.
He looked down on the man now, and lifted his voice for the small crowd to hear. “The Oracle says this,” Jeet announced, “give your money and your son to your brother. Your brother will love him, and the boy will prove himself in honest trade.”
The man bowed. “The Oracle has spoken wisely,” the man said. “It is what was in my own heart, but my son desires to…
“The Oracle knows what your son desires,” Jeet told the man. “She has seen his heart. Tell him that the prosperity his friends seek will destroy them. Tell your son to find a wife and he will be content.”
“My brother’s venture will prosper?” he asked.
Jeet nodded. “It will prosper.”
The man bowed low. “Oracle,” he said. “This is very good news. Thank you.” He bowed, retreating down the steps. When he stood, a wide smile was on his face. Other men in the crowd patted his back and congratulated him.
Jarus approached Jeet; his brow furrowed. “A dream Abij-hah?” he asked quietly.
“Have you discovered how to have the dreams when you want?”
Jeet shook his head. “I wished to do the man no harm, so I prayed to the good god who protects me.”
Jarus felt a sudden chill go up his spine. He had said it before, but only as a matter of form. Now it came home to him as a reality for the first time – truly, there really could be a god protecting this boy.
+ + + + +
“The Abij-hah is sleeping,” Jeet heard the Oracle say to someone.
He stirred himself. Because he had slept so little in the night, Jeet had slept longer than the Oracle after their midday meal. He sat up. Rufus was inside the door.
Seeing him awake, Rufus took a step closer. “Abij-hah,” he said. “Could you come outside?”
Jeet reached for his breechcloth and stood. “Are the people back from yesterday?” he asked.
Rufus shook his head. “No, Abij-hah. New people.”
Jeet frowned. Still fastening his breechcloth around his narrow hips he took a step to follow Rufus, but the Oracle stopped him with a hand to his arm. She smiled and kissed him. “I love you,” she whispered. Jeet smiled, and then hurried to catch up with Rufus.
There were as many people on the steps that afternoon as there had been the day before; adults and children. They bowed as Jeet came up to them.
Jeet glanced at Rufus.
The captain of the guard nodded toward the people. “They heard that you blessed children about this time yesterday. They hoped you would do so again today.”
Jeet turned back to the people, looking them over. A small boy, four or five years old, with large eyes, was toward the front. The boy appeared to be a little afraid. Jeet descended the steps toward him and sat down on the bottom step. He extended his hand toward the boy.
The boy looked up at his parents, and they brought him forward. It was then that Jeet noticed that the boy had something in his hand; it was a crudely carved, but recognizable bird with outstretched wings. The father nudged the boy, and the boy extended the bird to Jeet.
“It’s an eagle. He made that himself,” the father said. “I helped him only a little.”
Jeet took the eagle and turned it over in his fingers admiringly. Then he handed it back to the boy. “It is very good.”
“It’s a gift,” the father said. “For you.”
Jeet glanced up at the man.
“I make carvings that they sell here at the temple,” the man said. “Mostly phalluses and goddesses, but I can carve many things in many different types of wood.” He smiled down at his son. “This is Meeka, and I think he shall be an even better woodcarver than me.”
The boy held out the eagle again and Jeet took it. Rem had appeared, kneeling behind Jeet with an arm on his shoulder. Jeet handed the eagle to Rem and took the boy into his lap.
“That is a beautiful eagle, Meeka” Jeet said. “Thank you.”
The boy gazed up into Jeet’s pale eyes. He had never seen such eyes.
“Do you like carving things?” Jeet asked
The boy nodded. “When the wood is soft and I don’t cut myself.”
Jeet grinned. “I shall bless you now, Meeka. Alright?”
The boy nodded.
Jeet held the boy against his chest with one arm and laid his other hand on the boy’s head. “May the good god who protects me bless the things you carve that they may be exceedingly beautiful and give many people joy.” He lifted his hand from the boy’s head. “Your eagle has given me joy, Meeka,” he said. “Thank you.”
Rufus, watching from a few feet behind, sensed someone coming up beside him. It was Jarus. The guard smiled. “You wanted them to bring gifts, holy one.” He nodded toward the eagle in Rem’s hand. “There’s the first one.”
Jarus regarded the captain of the shrine guard without humor, then turned back to watch Jeet. “I heard the blessing,” he said. “The boy is good at this.”
Rufus nodded. “Almost like he’s born to it.”
+ + + + +
“Holy one,” Jeet said with a bow as he came to Jarus after the parents and their children left. “May I speak to you?”
“I would like to have use of some of the temple musicians for the next seven nights.”
Jarus cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
Jeet bowed his head slightly. “For the next seven nights, the Oracle is planning a nightly banquet; one for each of her other eunuchs, and two banquets to round out the week.”
Jarus frowned. “For what purpose?”
Jeet took a deep breath. Was there any way to explain? He decided he would try. “They are wedding feasts,” Jeet said.
Wisely, Jarus didn’t laugh. And when Jeet went on to explain, he listened.
+ + + + +
As Jeet and Rem bathed the Oracle, the other young eunuchs cleaned and set up the shrine hall and its booths. Then as Jeet and Rem prepared the Oracle for the night – dressing her and arraying her in jewelry and fine adornment – the others bathed Aruli, oiled and scented him, and then dressed him in a fine silk robe. They hung jewels from his ears and layers of necklaces from his throat down to his chest. They put combs of ivory in his hair and armbands and anklets of gold and silver on his limbs.
They arranged the low tables in the shrine hall into a U once more, this time, Aruli and the Oracle would sit at the head table. While Aruli waited, the others set the table with food from the evening sacrifice; meat, fruit, and bread in ample quantities. Musicians played in the background.
Just as the Oracle was about to descend to the shrine hall, with Jeet and Rem in attendance, Ono arrived at her chambers with the temple’s chief goldsmith in tow. “Jarus sent us with something for you, Oracle,” Ono said with a deep bow. The goldsmith extended a fine leather purse.
The Oracle took the purse, opened it. Inside, she found a necklace of silver links attached to a medallion of gold. “There will be one each night for the next six nights, Oracle,” Ono told her. “They are gifts for you to give each of your eunuchs. One per night. Jarus said you would understand.”
“The medallion is blank for now, Oracle,” the goldsmith said. “I had to hurry to put this together. But I will have a new one ready for you each evening, and when you want, I will inscribe designs on each medallion, according to each eunuch’s wish.”
“Jarus wishes to make peace with you, Oracle,” Ono said.
Jeet and the Oracle exchanged glances. “Tell Jarus,” the Oracle said, “that we are grateful.”
+ + + + +
Aruli stood at the head of the table as the Oracle came to him. She kissed him and Aruli grinned nervously. She sat, and Aruli sat beside her. Jeet and the other young eunuchs took places around the other tables as the only wedding guests.
Rem and the shrine’s two Nubian servants waited on the tables as the eunuchs ate, laughed, talked, and sang songs. Aruli beamed, stealing glances at the Oracle. They finished eating, and once the servants cleared away the food, the young eunuchs danced and performed their acrobatics for Aruli and the Oracle alone.
And then it was time. Aruli rose to his feet and took the Oracle’s hand, helping her to her feet. He led her by the hand to his booth. The others followed, tossing flower petals and singing an earthy, Phrygian wedding song about lovers and breasts and sweet lips and endless erections.
Smiling, Aruli led the Oracle into his booth. The silk curtain fell back across the doorway. The others stood for a moment, the five of them in a semicircle. They glanced at Jeet, who was looking sad. Tazaar laid a hand on the Abij-hah’s shoulder and gave it an encouraging squeeze.
Bantu took Ptolemy by the hand and led him to Ptolemy’s booth.
Jeet, Tazaar, and Jin, all without their regular partners, glanced at each other.
“Tazaar-hah,” Jin said, taking Tazaar’s hand with his right; “Jeet-hah,” he said, taking Jeet’s hand with his left. “Come to my booth tonight.”
Jeet, still tired from the night before, had a catch in his throat after watching Anda disappear into Aruili’s booth. He shook his head and kissed first Jin and then Tazaar on the cheek. “I am tired,” he said. “I will sleep in my own booth tonight.”
“We could massage you, Jeet-hah,” Tazaar said, squeezing Jeet’s bare shoulder. “I have longed to sleep with you again.”
“As have I,” Jin said.
Jeet smiled sadly and blinked his eyes to keep from tearing up. He shook his head.
“Nevertheless,” Tazaar said firmly. “We will attend you.” Taking Jeet by the hand, he and Jin led Jeet to Jeet’s white booth.
“Sweet Aruli,” the Oracle said affectionately as their lips parted. Still fully clothed, they stood beside Aruli’s bed in a loose embrace.
“I wanted to give you a gift tonight,” Aruli said frowning slightly. “But I am a slave and have nothing to give you that you don’t already have.”
“Aruli-hah,” she said softly, “you have given me yourself.”
He smiled sadly. “You already own me, Oracle.”
“Not your heart,” she said, touching his lips with her fingertip. “You have given me your heart.”
Aruli smiled. “Yes, I have.” He pulled from her embrace. “But I did think of one thing to give you; something I’ve had since I was a small boy.” He went to a corner of the booth that held his few belongings. Unwrapping an old cloth, he took out three, small alabaster figures and brought them to the Oracle in an open hand.
“These were given to me by my oldest brother,” he said. “Zeus, Apollo, and Artemis.” He smiled. “I get them out sometimes, and I imagine that this is Jeet,” he said, lifting Zeus from his palm. “And this is you, of course,” he said, picking up Artemis. “And this is me,” he said, lifting Artemis’ twin brother, Apollo from his hand. “And I pretend that we all live in a palace atop a great mountain and have many servants and fine clothes.” He smiled at her, and taking her hand, he placed the alabaster figures into it. “I want you to have them, Oracle.”
“Aruli,” she said, shaking her head. “How can I take these from you?”
“Please, Oracle,” he said. “It would mean a lot to me to be able to give you something, and this is such a small thing.”
The Oracle shook her head slightly, and lifted only the figure of Apollo from his hand. “I will take Aruli only, my Aruli-hah. I will keep him, and you will keep Jeet and the Oracle, and when we are together, they will be together.”
Aruli smiled again and nodded.
“I have a gift for you, but it isn’t nearly as good as your gift.” She held out the fine leather bag to him. “It is a wedding gift to you.”
Aruli took the necklace from the bag, dangling it from his extended fingers. “It is beautiful,” he said.
“The temple goldsmiths will inscribe the medallion with whatever design you want,” she said.
Aruli set the necklace down and quickly began removing the ones he was wearing. The Oracle helped, and when the other necklaces were all off, she fastened the new necklace around his neck. She stepped back and smiled approvingly, then paused, biting her lip. “I do have a more personal gift I can give you, Aruli; one that would mean something like yours does,” she said. Reaching up, she pulled a silver comb from her hair. “This was my mother’s,” she said, sliding it into Aruli’s hair. Her face was close to his now. “My gift to you, Aruli-hah,” she whispered, and then kissed his lips.
Aruli slipped his arms around her waist. Anda wrapped hers around his neck. They opened their mouths to each other and the kiss warmed. Aruli pulled their bodies tightly together.
“This feels strange,” he said with a gasp when they paused for breath.
Anda nodded. “Because we love each other already… as brother and sister.” She pressed her loins to his and they felt each other’s erection. “But if feels good, too,” she whispered.
Aruli nodded and pulled her even more tightly to himself. They kissed again and the Oracle ran her hands over Aruli’s bare back. She found the knot at the back of his silk belt and untied it, sliding her hands under it and over the soft skin of Aruli’s bottom as his breechcloth fell away.
“It’s funny, Oracle,” Aruli whispered. “I know how to undress you at night, but how do I undress you for love.”
She stepped back from him and quickly dropped her garments to the floor. They came back together, their bodies naked except for jewelry and adornment. Their erections pressed between their bellies. They kissed and their hands roamed each other’s warm, soft skin; shoulders, backs, sides, and bottoms.
The Oracle removed Aruli’s necklace. He removed the remaining combs from her hair, and then she removed his so that their hair fell free; his black, hers golden. Stepping from each other, they shed their bracelets, anklets, arm bands, and ear jewelry. And then Anda came to him once more and they embraced completely naked.
He backed her to the bed and laid her back onto it, laying his own body down onto hers. They kissed and ground their erections against each other. Then the Oracle reached down between their bodies.
Aruli lifted his hips and she grasped his cock; pushing his hips back, then guiding him forward while she lifted her pelvis to meet him. She watched his eyes as she placed his cockhead at her opening. She gave a little tug and his eyes tensed as he eased his hips forward and felt a vagina slide around his cock for the first time.
He filled her… not as deeply as Jeet, but thicker, stretching her pleasantly.
He settled between her legs and they wrapped their arms around each other’s shoulders. They opened their mouths to each other once more, and Aruli began to grind with his hips as they probed with their tongues.
She pressed her upturned erection up against his taut belly. Aruli pulled out slowly, feeling the slide of skin on skin. He eased back in, then out, and in again, feeling the warm, damp caress of her vagina around his shaft and crown.
“Anda,” he whispered. “Tell me how to do this right.”
“You’re doing it,” she whispered back, sliding her hands to his bottom to pull him in more deeply. “You’re doing it just fine.”
Inside Jeet’s booth, Tazaar and Jin had undressed the Abij-hah and laid him on his stomach. They had massaged his body from the soles of his feet to the top of his head, and the Abij-hah was now asleep. Quietly, Jin and Tazaar left the booth and walked hand-in-hand to Jin’s booth.
From the rafters, Rem watched the two young eunuchs undress each other and then fall onto Jin’s bed in an embrace. From Ptolemy’s booth, Bantu’s faint groans drew Rem’s attention. Ptolemy was on his hands and knees and Bantu, kneeling behind him, held the taller boy by his hips and was pumping in long, slow strokes. Suddenly, he bent forward over Ptolemy and grabbed him by the backs of his shoulders with both hands, pumping fast and hard. He drove in hard and held it, pulled back and drove in hard again, cried out softly, pulled back and drove in hard again for several seconds, and finally, he collapsed onto Ptolemy’s back.
The farthest booth from Rem’s vantage point was Aruli’s. Rem couldn’t see well into it, but he could imagine what they were doing. He stroked his long twig of a cock and his eyes dropped down to the naked body of the Abij-hah, asleep alone in his white booth.
As Rem watched, Jeet rolled onto his back in his sleep, his long, flaccid cock lying off toward his hip.
Quietly, Rem descended the ladder from the rafters, and then stole down the hallway and down the stairs to the shrine hall below.
Coming into the shrine hall, he paused to listen. There were sounds of lovemaking from Aruli’s booth, as well as Jin’s. He was tempted to peek, but instead, stole quietly to the white booth. Lifting the fabric of the doorway to one side, he stepped in.
The torchlight from above played over the thirteen-year-old Abij-hah’s body. His breathing was steady; Jeet was already in deep sleep.
Quietly, the ten-year-old stepped closer to the sleeping boy. Rem’s hand dropped once more to his own long, thin cock. It felt incredibly hard.
He quietly removed his loincloth. Then finding oil, he poured some onto his fingertips. Widening his stance, he reached between his thin legs and pressed his fingertips up into his butt crack and onto his sphincter. He pressed in with a finger, making sure he oiled himself thoroughly.
Rem wiped his hand on a cloth, then knelt carefully beside Jeet’s hips. Knowing that his chances of seducing Jeet were better if he got the older boy hard first, Rem lightly drew his fingertip along the side of Jeet’s limp cock. He did it again, and wondered why the skin on other boys’ cocks always seemed so much softer. He had noticed it with Bantu first.
Patiently, he stroked Jeet’s cock with his finger… down the sides, down the top… increasing pressure. He was glad when Jeet’s cock started to lengthen. It grew thick. The crown emerged, and Jeet’s foreskin drew back. His cock looked heavy to Rem… erotically, sensually heavy. As Rem stroked, it rolled up onto Jeet’s belly, pointing upward to his navel, and still it lengthened.
Rem rubbed the underside with his fingertip, watching Jeet’s face; listening to the older boy’s breathing. Jeet’s cock grew fully hard.
The Abij-hah’s legs were slightly apart. Carefully, Rem placed one knee between them so that he was lightly straddling Jeet’s right thigh. Bending forward, he carefully lifted Jeet’s cock and then swallowed hard because Jeet’s cock looked so much longer, now that Rem was only inches from it. He moved it carefully – it was rigid. He admired it and the way it came up thick and well-rooted from between Jeet’s smooth-skinned legs. He closed his hands around the warm shaft and closed his mouth over Jeet’s crown.
The older boy stirred, but didn’t wake. He moaned softly.
Rem sucked gently, taking more of Jeet into his throat. He lifted his head; then lowered it. He didn’t want Jeet to wake too early, and then send him away, or too late and come in his mouth. Rem lightly swirled Jeet’s crown with his tongue. The older boy moaned and his gut tightened. He sat up partly; looking down his body and focusing his eyes.
Rem moved up quickly, kneeling astride Jeet’s middle, pressing his erection down on Jeet’s as he leaned forward. “Please, Abij-hah,” he begged in a whisper. He took Jeet’s face in his hands and looked him earnestly in the eyes. “I have oiled my bottom and made myself ready for you.” Rem whispered. He reached back with one hand and found Jeet’s cock. He lifted his hips and pointed Jeet’s cock with his hand, trying to quickly find his butt crack before Jeet could send him away. “Please Jeet-hah,” he whispered, desperately trying to get Jeet’s crown to the right spot. “I will make it good for you.”
Jeet returned his gaze, and then gave Rem a sleepy smile. “Horny little bastard.”
Rem grinned. Then he found the spot and pushed his opening back against Jeet’s cockhead. It popped in farther than he meant, and Rem paused for a moment.
“Rem-hah,” Jeet whispered. “You don’t need to do this for my favor. I love you. We can suck cocks if you want.”
Rem eased his butt back another inch and paused. “I want to do it,” he said. “With you, Jeet-hah.” He backed again. “I have done this with the Oracle. I can do it.”
“The Oracle is not so large,” Jeet pointed out.
The younger boy nodded. “Yours is big.”
“We can wait for another time,” Jeet suggested.
Rem’s brow furrowed, and with a determined effort, he pushed his butt all the way back until he sat up in Jeet’s lap and the older boy’s cock was completely up inside him. Jeet gasped, clutching Rem’s narrow hips. Rem was much tighter than he was used to.
Rem paused there, hands on his thighs, breathing shallowly.
“Are you alright, Rem-hah?” Jeet asked in a strained whisper.
The younger boy nodded. He rose slightly on his knees, and then settled back down. Jeet’s gut tightened and his head lifted as he clutched the sides of Rem’s skinny thighs.
Rem tried it again; a slow rise and descent. His body was adjusting to the intrusion. Rem rose and fell again.
The ten-year-old’s long, thin cock jutted up from between his legs, pointing right at Jeet’s face. Jeet took it now, between his thumb and a couple of fingers. Rem closed his eyes and rocked his hips forward, feeling his cock move between Jeet’s fingers. He leaned forward, placing his hands on Jeet’s shoulders. He rocked his hips again, and then again, faster.
Jeet’s hips moved with Rem’s rocking. He stroked the boy’s slender cock with his thumb and fingers while cupping a globe of Rem’s small butt with his other hand and squeezing the flexing muscles. “Is it good for you, Rem-hah?” Jeet asked.
Rem opened his eyes and nodded. “Is it good for you?”
Jeet nodded. “Oh, yes.”
They hit a rhythm, an easy, mutually pleasing rhythm. Rem found it felt good to rub his perineum on the hardness of Jeet’s pubic mound. He began grinding down.
Grabbing a pillow to hold behind Rem’s butt, Jeet sat up and rolled them onto Rem’s back. Jeet’s long, black hair fell down around their faces as he adjusted his hips. He watched the younger boy’s eyes for reactions as he swayed his back and tightened his belly, pressing down to rub on Rem’s upturned cock. Jeet eased slowly in and out. Rem’s tightness moved up and down his shaft. “Do you like this?” Jeet asked in a whisper.
Rem nodded and slipped his hands up under the back of Jeet’s hair and behind the older boy’s neck. He smiled; a surprisingly happy, contented smile.
Jeet smiled back, and lowered his weight down onto the boy. Rem wrapped his slender arms around Jeet’s neck and pressed the side of his face against the young eunuch’s soft cheek. He took a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the fullness of Jeet’s scent for the first time; a scent of sandalwood, almond oil, and river water, and something more… something uniquely Jeet… something below the level of a scent, something exciting like the air before a storm.
Rem clung to the older boy, wrapping his legs up around him. Jeet laying on him felt better than Rem had imagined it would… much better… inside and out. He flexed his body to meet Jeet’s thrusts and their bellies pressed together.
They held each other and pumped their hips for a long, intimate time before Rem’s body suddenly tensed and the boy arched back. Jeet slid an arm under the small of Rem’s back and held him up, belly to belly with him as he thrust faster. Rem gasped and Jeet kept going and going.
Rem lay on Jeet’s side afterward, the same way he had seen the Oracle laying on him; head on Jeet’s shoulder, arm over Jeet’s chest, leg over Jeet’s middle. And Jeet stroked Rem’s back as Rem had seen Jeet stroke the Oracle’s back. It felt good being naked together.
The boy took a deep breath and nuzzled into the side of Jeet’s neck the way he had seen the Oracle do. And he was happy.