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 17 – Attis for Fertility
A god of growth and fertility in Asia Minor, also venerated in Greece. His service remained more Asian than Greek, however, and was connected to that of Cybele. Because of his manifestations of intense sadness and ecstatic joy, his service resembles that of Adonis. – Encyclopedia Mythica
They were past the spring equinox. Morning came earlier. Anda woke first. She was glad that Jeet was still sleeping. He needed it.
He was on his back, and Anda rolled up to study his face in the early morning light. Jeet was young; he was healing quickly. The last remains of swelling and discoloration had faded away from his face and shoulders. A small scar extended into the hairline above his temple. Anda gently pulled the light cotton bedcover from his body.
She could see both angry red scars from Stycus’ knife. One extended three inches up along his right hip. When he stood, it lay between his hipbone and the dimple of his right buttock. When he was lying down, like now, it flushed darkly against the lighter skin of his slightly flattened bottom.
The second scar, longer than the one on Jeet’s hip, angled up the inside of his left groin. Anda sat up to look at it more closely. Jeet’s lack of pubic hair made it easy to see the entire length. The scar began, and was widest, just left of his cock. It angled up over his flat abdominal plate, to a thin line. When Jeet wore his breechcloth, the scar rose from inside it, drawing the eye to Jeet’s taut belly and to the top of his breechcloth. Anda and the eunuchs had agreed among themselves that they were always tempted to touch it; to run a finger over it, and down along it, into his breechcloth where it disappeared.
Anda gently laid her hand on the scar, glancing up at Jeet’s face.
He remained asleep.
She held her hand there. The scar had unexpectedly added a new dimension to the allure of Jeet’s body. It seemed almost fitting somehow, that Jeet should be scarred in some way. He was the son of warriors, strong and resilient.
But how resilient? Anda bent and gently kissed beneath Jeet’s sternum; kissed the vulnerable strength within. Along with Rem, Jeet was quieter since the incident. At times, she worried.
+ + + + +
The first hot week of summer arrived. The heavy rains in the spring had turned the hills green, and Kaleh grew humid. But at night, a breeze blew down along the river.
Rem and other shrine servants set the Oracle’s evening table with food and drink. As they were finishing, Tazaar, Bantu, Ptolemy, Jin, and Aruli came into the Oracle’s chamber wearing their colored silk breechcloths and serious expressions.
“Rem, you stay,” Tazaar instructed. “The rest of you can go.”
The Oracle glanced at Jeet inquiringly. Jeet shrugged to indicate that he didn’t know what they were up to.
They all waited until the other servants had left. Then the five eunuchs came before the Oracle and Jeet, and fell to their knees, pressing their foreheads to the floor.
“Cyndur stayed away tonight,” Tazaar said, speaking with his head down. “The Abij-hah may not remember because of when we talked about it, but we asked him about saving the last night of each week for us to remember our promises together – the promises the seven of us made together, Oracle. We said, ‘Let this be the night every week that each of us invites a different one of us who we love to our bed.’ It is the last night of the week, Oracle. Rem is now one of us and we are eight. Let the Oracle invite one of us to her bed, and let the Abij-hah invite another of us to his.” With his head still pressed to the floor, Tazaar smiled, “And let Rem be the horny little bastard we remember, and let him invite at least one of us to his bed.”
The five of them lifted their heads and sat back on their haunches glancing from the Oracle to Jeet to Rem. The Oracle took Jeet’s hand and turned to the Abij-hah. “We don’t need to, Jeet,” she said. “After all that’s happened, we don’t need to do this if you don’t want.”
Rem came behind Jeet and wrapped his arms tightly around Jeet’s waist from behind. He hugged him, pressing his face into Jeet’s back. “Choose me,” he said for only Jeet to hear. “Please choose me.”
Jeet’s eyes met the Oracle’s. “If we do this tonight, then I will choose Rem. He and I haven’t been alone since that day.”
Anda glanced at the others, and then back at Jeet. She nodded. “Alright.”
Slipping an arm behind her waist, Jeet pulled her close and kissed her. “I love you, Oracle,” he whispered. Then he pulled Rem around to his front. “Tonight,” he told them all, “I shall choose Rem to sleep with me.”
Tazaar tried to catch the Oracle’s eye and it amused her that he clearly wanted her to choose him – he had been so reluctant with her the first time. “I choose Tazaar,” she said.
“Then I choose Bantu,” Aruli quickly called out.
Ptolemy glanced at Jin and smiled.
Tazaar came to the Oracle and pulled her belly tightly to his. “Alexander,” he whispered in her eye, “I have looked forward to this.”
The Oracle felt her phallus stiffen.
They moved to the table in pairs – Jin looking like a white marble statue of a boy god next to Ptolemy’s dark elegance; Aruli’s dark eyes happy as redheaded Bantu playfully mussed Aruli’s dark curls; Tazaar looking unabashedly, boyishly excited. Rem, however, was subdued. He sat down beside Jeet, their sides just touching. Governor, the puppy, curled up behind Rem.
The Oracle sat between Tazaar’s legs, leaning back against his chest. He wrapped an arm around her from behind, pulling her back to him, and his hand fell onto her breast. He caressed it gently and she laid her head back onto his shoulder. “Alexander,” he whispered, “I… I like it… your breasts.”
Aruli and Bantu sat face-to-face beside the table, their legs extended over each other, feeding one another by hand, and laughing. Ptolemy lay across Jin’s lap, and the albino boy fed him from the table.
Jeet glanced at Rem, who frowned and looked away.
“Don’t be troubled,” Jeet whispered. “We can simply sleep tonight, Rem.”
Rem glanced at the others around the table and shook his head. “It’s that I don’t belong,” he said. “I haven’t made promises like all of you have.”
The others heard, and heads around the table turned toward Rem and Jeet.
Jeet laid an arm over Rem’s shoulders. “You are one of us, Rem-hah,” he said quietly. “You know that. We all do.” Jeet leaned closer. “It is different with you, and we want to keep it that way. We don’t call you one of the Oracle’s attendants because if something happens to us, we want you to be safe.”
“We love you, Rem,” Bantu said. “You know we love you.”
“We can promise to keep him with us, can’t we, Oracle?” Aruli asked. “We can promise that.”
“Rem,” the Oracle said. “You belong to me and this shrine. If the priests ever tried to dispute that, I’d give them everything in the shrine treasury to make sure that you stay with us. To keep you safe, though, we won’t call you one of my ‘attendants’. We’ll call you Jeet’s attendant. We’ll call you the attendant to the Abij-hah. You do that anyway.”
Jeet smiled at Anda gratefully and rubbed the top of Rem’s head with his cheek. “When the Oracle grants audiences, Rem, you shall stand behind me and dress as I dress; in my white color. You shall attend me whenever we are in public, just as I attend the Oracle.”
“You will be the envy of many boys,” Ptolemy observed. “Many would like to attend the Abij-hah.”
Rem had said nothing, and his expression remained downcast. They waited for him to say something, and after a moment, he looked up at Jeet. “I shall make my bed at your feet? I shall belong to you?”
“You’ll belong to us all,” the Oracle corrected.
“And you already sleep in our chamber,” Jeet said with an admonishing grin. “And you don’t often settle for sleeping at our feet.”
“You should sleep with us all, Rem” Jin said. “We all love you.”
Rem looked up at Jeet and nodded. “I would like to be your attendant.”
“Good!” Anda said. “It’s official then. You are one of us.”
“Kiss him, Jeet-hah,” Tazaar encouraged.
Rem’s eyes met Jeet’s, and the older boy bent his head. They kissed, and Rem wrapped his arms around Jeet’s neck.
An hour later, as Tazaar and Anda-Alexander made love on the Oracle’s bed, Jeet undressed Rem beside the new cotton pallet that Amnon had given them. It had become Rem’s.
Jeet laid the smaller boy down on his back and kissed his lips affectionately before reversing his body over Rem’s. With a knee planted on either side of Rem’s head, Jeet bent down over Rem’s slender, flaccid cock and took it between a thumb and finger. He wiggled it and it flopped around. “Like a fat little worm,” Jeet murmured with a chuckle.
Rem grabbed high up Jeet’s dangling cock and wiggled it so that the crown brushed back and forth across his face. “Like a fat little snake,” he murmured in reply.
“Little?” Jeet asked with a playful growl. Closing his lips around Rem’s crown, he sucked the younger boy’s cock up into his mouth like a bird sucking up a worm. His lips skinned it back as he sucked it in.
Rem murmured appreciatively, and flicked his tongue against the crown of Jeet’s lengthening cock. He kissed it; his lips lightly caressing the swelling glans. He lifted his head, taking the end of Jeet’s cock into his warm mouth. With his fingers, he tickled Jeet’s empty scrotum because he knew he liked to have his own empty scrotum fondled – especially once it had healed. He discovered that with his own fingers, and when he told Menelaus about it, his new friend had pleasured him there.
With his other hand, Rem caressed the smooth flesh of Jeet’s firm rump, admiring its shape.
They sucked, fondled, and licked on each other – noisily because noisily was fun – until both were hard. Jeet lifted his head and tossed back his hair. “Not a worm anymore,” he said, grinning to himself while holding Rem’s cock. “It’s like a twig now.”
“Not a snake,” Rem responded, grasping Jeet’s cock. “Like a stake; a long stake.”
Jeet laughed and reversed position over Rem once more so that he was on all-fours, knees between Rem’s legs, grinning down at the younger boy. He lay down on him, pelvis first, erection to erection, then belly-to-belly and chest to chest, supporting his weight on his elbows.
Happily, Rem wrapped his arms up under Jeet’s hair and around Jeet’s neck. Jeet slipped his palms under the backs of Rem’s narrow shoulders, and lowered his head to press his cheek against the younger boy’s. They gently rubbed their cocks together.
Jeet rubbed his cheek on the younger boy’s, feeling warm and contented. But then he felt guilt – guilt that had come and gone since he found Rem in Stycus’ chamber. His hips paused. “Rem-hah,” he whispered. “I never told you. I never told you that I am sorry… that I’m really, really sorry, about everything that happened to you.” He started to lift his head to look into Rem’s eyes, but the younger boy held his neck too tightly. “I love you Rem-hah,” he continued to whisper. “I love you so much, and I promised to protect you, and was so stupid; I should have known right away…”
Rem shook his head violently against Jeet’s, and he tightened his embrace of Jeet’s neck even more. “You came for me,” Rem whispered. “They knew you would come for me, and I knew you would come for me.” He clung to Jeet’s neck, and his voice choked off for a moment. The younger boy closed his eyes and swallowed hard. “But I waited so long for you, Jeet,” Rem whispered. “It seemed like so long…”
Jeet thought about Rem alone with that foul monster Stycus, while the man did his evil things to the defenseless boy; and Rem waiting for Jeet to save him, and knowing that no one else would or could. Jeet’s breath caught in his throat, and his eyes shut tightly as he cringed inside. Taking a breath he clutched Rem tightly in his arms. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, stricken.
Rem kissed under his ear.
Jeet took a shuddering breath. “I will never let you that far out of my thoughts, ever again,” Jeet promised.
Rem turned his face and kissed a tear that had escaped from the corner of Jeet’s eye. They held each other tightly, rocked each other, and their nude bodies felt good together. Rem moved his hips, giving a little grind of his cock up against Jeet’s. Jeet lifted his head, and Rem ran his fingers fondly over Jeet’s high cheekbones. They were damp.
Closing his eyes once more, Jeet lowered his mouth to the younger boy’s. Rem closed his eyes as well, and they brushed lips. Their mouths opened and their tongues brushed. Jeet covered the younger boy’s mouth gently. His heart for Rem was absolutely full, and his body was about to express it. Jeet probed gently in with his tongue and it was gently met by Rem’s. Their tongues slid against each other and slowly danced together, like lovers on a stage.
The kiss warmed – not with preadolescent lust, but with the pure, deep love of two young boys for each other. They shared their mouths and breath and soft murmurs, holding each other bare belly to bare belly, sliding smooth legs, rubbing cocks… intimately… friends.
Jeet lifted his head and drooled into his hand. Raising his hips, he rubbed saliva over his crown. Rem holding Jeet loosely around his neck, pulled his knees up all the way. He tightened his gut, lifting his bottom up for Jeet.
Jeet angled his cock down and found the smaller boy’s opening, lifted up between Rem’s hard little bottom bones. Jeet pressed his crown in through Rem’s tightness… felt the tightness pass slowly over his glans… felt the tightness slide slowly down to the base of his shaft. He settled his weight onto the ten-year-old, flattening Rem’s upturned, slender cock between their bellies.
Once more he nuzzled behind Rem’s ear, and Rem hugged Jeet’s neck. Jeet began an easy thrusting of his hips, pressing each time until his full length was in and his loins flattened on Rem’s bottom bones. The joining was good and deep and intimate as only two young boys can be; feeling each other’s warm, soft skin with their bellies and chests and hands and legs; smelling each other; grunting softly in one another’s ear when something felt good. Rem rubbed his cheek against Jeet’s and murmured pleasantly. He kissed in front of Jeet’s ear with the side of his mouth and circled his hips to meet Jeet.
“I love you, Rem,” Jeet whispered. “You are my little brother; my only little brother.”
Rem nodded his face beside Jeet’s. “I belong to you now,” he whispered. “I’m your attendant.”
They held each other, Rem circling his hips in time with the forward and back movement of Jeet’s. Intimate feelings of deep affection blended with feelings of pleasure. And the pleasure grew.
Jeet eased into longer strokes, wanting to feel the sliding of Rem’s tightness and warmth up and down the entire length of his cock. He ground with his belly against Rem’s upturned cock, for Rem’s pleasure. He covered Rem’s mouth with his, and they probed again with their tongues.
Jeet picked up speed. He lifted his head, just slightly, so that his mouth hung open just over Rem’s open mouth. They listened to each other’s panting breath, breath that washed warmly over mouths and faces, laden with each other’s smell.
Jeet’s gut clinched and his hips rocked reflexively now; hard… little… poundings. Rem planted his feet on the bed and ground up with his cock in an equally reflexive, counter rhythm. They made the pleasant grunts and encouraging murmurs best friends make when rising to orgasm together.
Their orgasms hit, Rem an instant ahead of Jeet. They clutched at each other; Jeet driving deep and Rem rubbing his cock hard up against Jeet’s firm belly. Jeet pressed all the way in and held it. He could feel the strong spasms of Rem’s sphincter around the base of his cock. They whimpered together; sounds almost like those of pain. Rem’s spasms lasted and lasted and lasted, before they finally weakened and Jeet slowly relaxed onto his younger friend.
Their embrace loosened. Jeet rubbed Rem’s face with his own, affectionately. Rem ran his fingers into Jeet’s hair and felt comfort at the weight of the older boy’s body between his legs and on his belly and chest.
+ + + + +
People noticed it immediately – a seventh eunuch at the Oracle’s audiences. The boy, Rem, stood just behind Jeet in a breechcloth and adornment that matched the Abij-hah’s. Word spread that the Abij-hah now had his own attendant.
For almost a week, Rem stayed near enough to Jeet to be able to easily reach a hand to his back, or arm, or leg, or butt. When he could, he pulled Jeet into a kiss, and once, when they were alone in a store room, he pulled aside Jeet’s breechcloth and fondled him. He knelt and sucked Jeet to hardness, then stood, and pulling his own breechcloth to the side, he bent over and backed onto Jeet’s cock.
“They’ve been through a lot together,” Ptolemy reminded the Oracle.
Tazaar, Bantu, and Ptolemy were cleaning the Oracle’s chamber while the other eunuchs were outside with Jeet, blessing children.
“Rem’s still getting over it,” Bantu said. “They both are.”
The Oracle shook her head. “Jeet’s been letting him crawl into bed with us every night… when we make love.” She frowned at them. “Jeet is my Abij-hah,” she said quietly.
That evening, as the others undressed the Oracle and prepared her for bed, Bantu and Ptolemy, grinning playfully, pulled Rem to one side. “Tonight, we steal you for our bed, Rem-hah.” Without waiting for an answer, Bantu threw Rem over his shoulder, and with Ptolemy, the two carried Rem, howling, downstairs.
Jeet frowned and started to follow, but the Oracle grabbed his arm. “He’s alright,” she said. “Stay with me tonight.”
Just then, they heard Bantu laugh from below. Then he laughed again, as did Ptolemy. Jeet relaxed slightly.
The others left and the Oracle pulled Jeet to herself. She kissed under his ear as she reached behind him to unfasten his breechcloth. “I love you, husband,” she whispered. “Do not forget our mating.”
Jeet frowned slightly as his breechcloth fell to his feet, but he stepped from it and wrapped his arms around the Oracle. “I haven’t forgotten our mating, Anda. I was just worried for Rem.”
“Rem is fine, Jeet,” she said, kissing his lips lightly. “Come,” She took him by the hand, drawing him to her bed. She lay back on it, tugging at his hand to pull him down onto her.
Jeet smiled then, and kissed her, and laid a hand on her breast. “Forgive me Oracle, if I have neglected you.”
She ran her fingers into the sides of his long hair and pulled his face down to hers. They kissed and he caressed her breast. They grew hard and pointed their erections up between their bellies. They brushed lips and noses. The Oracle pulled her legs up and apart. A moment’s adjustment, and Jeet guided his crown between her warm, soft labia and into her wet opening. He eased in and she sheathed him. Their bodies entwined. Their mouths meshed. And the thirteen-year-olds were alone in their intimacy, once again.
Jeet dreamed. Ptolemy was making love to Anda, and Jeet was happy for them. But their lovemaking went on and on. Jeet wanted Anda back, but Ptolemy wouldn’t let him have her. “Tell him to let you go,” Jeet told Anda. She looked at Jeet and then away. “But, Anda,” Jeet protested. “I’m your husband.” Anda ignored him, rolling away with Ptolemy. Their lovemaking grew louder.
Jeet woke with a knot in his stomach. He was on his back and Anda was draped on his side, but he couldn’t look at her. Not yet. He stared at the ceiling and tried to think. Was the dream of something that would be? Or was it a warning? Or perhaps something in his conscience rebuking him by showing him what Anda must be feeling about him and Rem?
Careful not to wake her, he laid his hand on her back. She felt so good against him. He loved her, and he felt that love keenly. His destiny was with Anda, and his life. His focus came back to her that morning, like waking up from a dream.
+ + + + +
Wearing only a white breechcloth that matched the Abij-hah’s, Rem peeked into the Oracle’s chamber. It had been several days now since Jeet had slept with him or invited him to his bed with the Oracle, and Rem had been watching for an opportunity to catch the Oracle alone.
It was late morning and his opportunity had come. Having just relieved herself, she had stepped to the balcony to look out over the river. Rem went to her, and prostrated himself on the floor. “Please, Oracle,” Rem murmured, “I’ll do anything you want.”
The Oracle turned, and was surprised to see Rem, face down. “Have you done something wrong?” she asked. “Are you in trouble?”
“No, please, Oracle,” he begged. “I miss Jeet.”
Anda frowned and looked away. “You see him all the time.”
As prostrate as he already was, Rem sagged, discouraged.
“I would like to sleep with him again sometime,” Rem murmured.
She heard the sadness in his voice, and the heart of the Oracle softened. She loved Rem no less than the others did. “I never said you couldn’t,” the Oracle told him. “I’ve never said anything to you, or to Jeet, about that.”
“But you told the others to keep me from him at night.”
“They did that on their own,” she replied, defensively. “I did not ask them to do it.”
There was movement out in the hallway. Other servants would be in soon with the midday meal. “Come with me,” the Oracle told Rem.
Slowly, downcast, Rem stood. Anda took his hand and led him from her room, down the hallway, around the corner, and to the ladder which led up to the rafters. “Up there,” she said, pointing up, “we can talk privately.”
He followed her up, and when she took a seat and patted the floor beside her, he sat down next to her, hugging his knees.
“Why did Jeet’s heart change toward me if you didn’t tell him to?” Rem asked. “If you didn’t tell him to, why did he stop inviting me to your bed? He doesn’t even hug me as often as he was doing.”
The Oracle shrugged. “I reminded him of our bonding. After what happened to the two of you, it was almost like he forgot me because of you. But I never told him to stay away from you.”
Rem laid his forehead on his knees.
“Rem,” she said, leaning her shoulder against his, “you must remember, he’s my consort, my husband.”
“But he’s my friend,” Rem replied.
They sat silently a moment, and then the Oracle put an arm over Rem’s shoulders and pulled him close, leaning her head nearer his. He slipped an arm behind her back, and leaned his head her way, so that the sides of their heads rested against each other.
Below them in the shrine hall, servants carrying food in to the shrine greeted servants who were cleaning the floor.
“After we eat,” Anda said, “when we lay down for afternoon naps, lie with me.”
“With only me,” she added.
He turned his head to look at her.
“I love you, too,” The Oracle said, and then she smiled. “Besides, the way you do your hips when we make love,” she said, “the way you move so fast… I like that.”
Rem grinned. “I like moving fast when my cock’s inside you. I like the way you feel.”
She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “I’m Jeet’s mate and you’re his friend, Rem. We’ll look after him, you and me. And we will love each other as well.”
+ + + + +
“Rem will rest with me this afternoon,” the Oracle told Jeet as he and Bantu were disrobing her for her afternoon nap. She laid a hand on Jeet’s forearm. “Just him and me this time, alright?”
Mildly surprised, Jeet nodded.
“Abij-hah,” Ptolemy called from the table where he was clearing away with the others. “Nap with me.” He glanced at Bantu. “You won’t mind, will you, Bantu-hah?” Ptolemy asked his lover. “I want to talk to Jeet about some things.”
“He won’t mind,” Tazaar said, hugging Bantu from behind. “He will nap with me.”
Naked, the Oracle lay down on her bed. With a grin, Rem stripped off his breechcloth and climbed under a silk blanket with her. They moved into each other’s arms, and then Rem giggled.
At the table, Jeet was glad to hear his young friend being happy. He was puzzled, though, as to why the Oracle and Rem wanted to be alone.
Just then, Ptolemy stepped up behind him, and Jeet felt a brief tightening of his breechcloth as the taller eunuch unfastened it in back. Jeet glanced at the door. The others were carrying out the last of the midday meal, and other than the Oracle and Rem, he was alone with Ptolemy.
Jeet’s breechcloth fell away, and he felt Ptolemy’s hands sweep over his hips. Ptolemy’s long fingers slipped under Jeet’s bottom and into the gap inside the younger eunuch’s legs. Enjoying the sensations, Jeet widened his stance to give Ptolemy better access. Ptolemy kissed the back of Jeet’s shoulders and rubbed up under the base of Jeet’s perineum. They all knew how much Jeet liked that.
Jeet had been struggling with his feelings for Ptolemy ever since the dream he had of Ptolemy and the Oracle. Had Ptolemy sensed that? Was that why he wanted to be with Jeet?
Ptolemy’s fingers felt good. Jeet laid his head back on the taller eunuch’s shoulder. His perineum tightened, and his cock began to rise. It was only a dream after all, Jeet reminded himself. “We haven’t been together in a long time, Ptolemy-hah,” Jeet murmured.
He turned around, and hands on Ptolemy’s waist, he turned the taller boy’s back to himself. Stepping back to untie the back of Ptolemy’s breechcloth, his eyes fell to the baby-smooth, dark skin of his tight bottom. Jeet paused to run his hand over the small globes, just as Ptolemy had done to his bottom. The taller boy’s breechcloth fell away, and he widened his stance. Jeet’s fingertips sought out Ptolemy’s perineum, as Ptolemy had done him.
While he rubbed, Jeet wrapped his other arm around to Ptolemy’s chest and pulled him back upright to himself. He kissed the side of Ptolemy’s neck and blew his breath lightly down over Ptolemy’s collar bone.
Ptolemy sighed, and wiggled his bottom, rubbing his perineum on Jeet’s hand. Then he turned around. They grasped each other by the hips and pulled their bald pubic mounds together. Their semi-erect cocks dangled together, down between their legs. Resting their foreheads together, they gazed down their smooth-skinned chests and bellies, down to where their pubic mounds flattened against each other.
“Jeet-hah,” Ptolemy murmured as they slowly began to rock hips forward and back.
“Can I have Oot and Henanon to help with my work?” Ptolemy asked, referring to the shrine’s two Nubian servants. “There is more and more to keep track of in the stores. There is more and more to move around, and in and out of the shrine.”
“In and out?” Jeet asked with a smile.
Ptolemy frowned and rolled his forehead on Jeet’s. “I’m being serious,” he said, but then he smiled as well. “I caught Oot moving in and out of Henanon the other day.”
They heard the Oracle groan, and Jeet lifted his head to glance that way. On the Oracle’s bed, Rem had knelt up between her legs, and the silk bed cover had fallen away. He leaned forward and aimed his stick of a cock between the Oracle’s legs.
Jeet took Ptolemy’s hand and led him to Rem’s pallet. They lay down on their sides, interlacing their legs up to their crotches, and draped an arm over each other’s waist. Once more, they pressed their foreheads together and gently rocked their hips forward and back, this time on their sides.
Jeet smiled. “The more servants we have, the more servants we need to take care of the food and supplies. I suppose it could be worse if the priests weren’t so anxious to take most of the gifts and offerings that come in.”
“I don’t give them all they ask for,” Ptolemy said. “And I won’t. But I have shared. I shared with Rallot when he wanted some of the white silk we were given last week.”
Jeet reached between their bodies and pulled their cocks up, underside to underside. He closed his hand around them and stroked lightly. “You have become friends with Rallot,” Jeet observed. “Do you think he would teach us some of his art with cloth?”
Ptolemy bit his lip, thoughtfully. “He might. He might be willing to do that.”
“Pyrades, the chief scribe, has agreed to teach us to read and write,” Jeet said. “Tenelas has agreed to teach the Oracle how to work with gold and silver because she wants to. He could teach us as well. And I want to find someone to teach us numbers.”
Ptolemy grinned and laid his hand on the side of Jeet’s face. “Truly?”
Jeet smiled and nodded.
Ptolemy kissed Jeet, happily. “They will teach us reading and numbers?” he asked.
Jeet nodded again.
Ptolemy kissed him again; kissed him hard and happily. Jeet kissed back and they opened their mouths to each other. They rocked with their hips and Jeet held their long cocks together in his hand. Across the room, Rem’s loins slapped fast and audibly between the Oracle’s legs until she grabbed his fast-pumping, little bottom with both hands. She held his butt, grinding back against him and moaning loudly. The noises stimulated Ptolemy and Jeet to a more forceful movement of their own hips.
They paused for a breath, resting their foreheads together. Ptolemy spit into his hand, and cocking his top leg over the side of Jeet’s hip, he applied the spit to his own butt crack.
“I thought you always liked to be one to do the penetrating,” Jeet murmured in mild surprise. “You’re going to let me do it to you this time?”
Ptolemy pulled his top leg higher up Jeet’s side, and reached behind his bottom to grab Jeet’s shaft. “You’re going to give me two servants,” Ptolemy said with a smile. “And you are getting us training, just like rich, Greek boys get.”
Jeet smiled. “Things go well for us, don’t they Ptolemy-hah.” He rubbed the leg that Ptolemy had cocked over his hip, and held his own hips still as the taller boy lined up Jeet’s cock. Holding Jeet’s shaft securely, Ptolemy backed on to it, wiggling his butt to work it in.
Jeet leaned back to go in more deeply, and his eyes met Ptolemy’s from farther away. “You can have the two servants,” Jeet said. “But not because of this. You know you don’t ever have to do anything; we’re all brothers.”
Ptolemy smiled and moved his hips to meet Jeet’s slide in. “I love you Jeet-hah. I like doing this with you.” His eyes closed, and his voice softened. “Besides,” he whispered. “You are the Abij-hah.”
+ + + + +
The days grew busy and eventful. In the mornings, the Oracle and her eunuchs had a variety of lessons which Jeet arranged for them. Increasingly, naps after the midday meal became a time for switching partners and making casual love. In the afternoons, they practiced acrobatics and dance, then learned swimming from Cyndur at their bathing time. At night they ate casually, sang, talked, and played instruments. They slept each night with their regular bedmate, but on the last night of the week, they chose a different partner and made the night special for that person…
Amnon married and brought his wife to meet Jeet and the Oracle. The boy, Menelaus, bragged of his time at the shrine, and soon, other fathers brought other sons, and a week at the shrine became instantly fashionable for young boys.
Tazaar pressed Rem into helping him with the boy athletes during the day. At night, Ptolemy, Bantu, Jin, and Aruli playfully fought over the boy, and passed Rem back and forth among their beds. He slept with the Oracle and Jeet only when they invited, but he was grateful that they invited him often.
Rem also helped Jeet with children that parents continued to bring daily to be blessed. And every other day, wealthy supplicants brought increasingly valuable gifts to the Oracle.
The governor ordered the construction of a barge for the Oracle. Rufus gave swords and daggers to the eunuchs and started training them to defend themselves – mainly with daggers. “Your strength will be limited as you grow, because you are eunuchs,” he told them. “But with a dagger, you have claws and fangs. If you know how and where to strike quickly and unexpectedly, you can protect yourselves short of open combat.”
The summer solstice came and went. And the Oracle, along with her eunuchs, found this new life to be busy and enjoyable. They worked hard and their bonds grew deeper because of their common efforts. Their affection and fondness grew for one another. They were eunuchs, and they were family; not one among them was envious or unhappy. Each counted himself fortunate, and each knew he was loved.
+ + + + +
The governor bowed his head. “Welcome to my home, Oracle.” He extended his hand and the Oracle took it. The governor led her into his banquet room, with its broad terrace which overlooked the city and river below.
“This is my wife…” the governor started to say, intending to introduce the Oracle to those present, but Weela rushed past him and into the arms of her brother, Jeet. They embraced, eyes tightly closed, rocking each other.
The governor frowned slightly. He glanced at his son, Jason, who exchanged glances with the Oracle. All knew that Jeet and Weela had been lovers as well as brother and sister, but in the exchanged glances between the governor, Jason, and the Oracle was an agreement that the two should embrace; Jeet and Weela were after all, twins – the closest of siblings.
“I was afraid when I heard what happened to you,” Weela whispered, squeezing him tightly. “I prayed to the goddess and to other gods for you.”
Jeet stroked her hair and drew comfort from her familiar scent and feel.
Jason went to the embracing couple and stood patiently beside Weela. When Jeet glanced up at him, the governor’s son inclined his head. “Abij-hah.”
Separating himself from Weela, Jeet bowed to the governor’s son. She dabbed her eyes with the sleeve of her gown, and Jason pulled her backwards into his arms. She leaned back against him, and looking up, gave Jason a kiss.
The Governor smiled at Weela’s demonstrated affection for his son, and he turned back to the Oracle. “Our group tonight is small,” the governor said. “I wanted us all to be relaxed.” He introduced the Oracle to his wife, his sister and her husband, half a dozen close friends, his son, and finally to Weela.
Weela bowed. “Oracle,” she said. And when she straightened, Anda pulled her into an embrace. “Sister,” she whispered. Weela smiled, surprised. Then she nodded. “Sister,” she replied.
The governor’s wife guided everyone to their places at the table. Jeet and the Oracle’s other attendants joined the governor’s servants against the walls.
“No, no, Abij-hah,” the Governor said. “You are to join us at the table, there beside my wife.”
Jeet looked at the Governor, not certain he heard correctly.
The Governor nodded and motioned for Jeet to come to the table.
Jeet looked down at his nearly-naked body and at the red scar on his lower belly. Like his brother eunuchs, he wore only a breechcloth and adornments.
The governor saw, and waved over a chief servant. “Bring the Abij-hah one of Jason’s tunics and cloaks,” he instructed. “Good ones.”
Jeet glanced with concern at Jason because of the offer of Jason’s clothes, but the governor’s son smiled and inclined his head.
In moments, the servant returned and the other eunuchs surrounded Jeet to dress him, and remove his breechcloth. They stepped back when done, and the governor smiled, pleased. “You are a striking young man, Abij-hah. The clothing becomes you.” Once again he waved Jeet toward the table.
The Abij-hah took his seat between the governor’s wife and the governor’s sister, and across from Weela. Both ladies smiled at Jeet with interest; casting their eyes over his features and long hair. “I have wanted to meet you for months, Abij-hah,” the governor’s wife said. “I have wanted to see the famous attendants to the Oracle for myself.”
Jeet glanced at the Oracle who sat beside the governor. She was watching him, and smiled encouragingly. Eating with a governor was something she had done before.
Servants, including the Oracle’s eunuchs, brought food to the table. As they served, eyes around the table watched the Oracle’s young eunuchs. “Oracle,” the governor’s wife said glancing at Tazaar as he bent over the table, “will you please introduce us to your attendants? We have heard so much about them.”
One of the guests at the governor’s table watched with transparent interest. She was a short, buxomly woman in her late thirties by the name of Lenanae. The wife of a tall, boney aristocrat in his sixties, her eyes looked over each boy as he was introduced, and she thought to herself that she would willingly pay money to spend time with any one of them. She began to consider ways to secretly do so.
Conversation flowed around the table. Jeet answered questions put to him, awkwardly at first. He was more comfortable speaking with the men than the women. The Oracle watched him, ready to step in helpfully if needed, but pleased that she was not.
“Oracle,” the governor said. “I understand that every boy in town wants to spend a week at the shrine now the way the boy Menelaus did.” He smiled. “I understand that you return them better athletes.”
The governor’s brother laughed out loud. “Better athletes indeed! We all know what games they’re interested in – boy games. What would it have been like, Hector, if we had something like the shrine when we were boys?”
“You wouldn’t have liked it,” the governor said with a smile. “I hear that the shrine eunuchs make the boys work hard from sunrise to sunset.”
“But then they reward them with fun at night,” his brother countered with a guffaw.
Lenanae leaned forward. “I hear the boys come back half-dead but very happy.” She glanced pointedly down the table at Jeet. “How many boys have you had at the shrine at one time, Abij-hah?”
“We had seven last week, mistress” he answered, unsure how to address her. “That’s the most we’ve had so far.”
“Where do they sleep?” Lenanae asked with a knowing grin at the Oracle.
“In the shrine hall,” Jeet answered.
“I understand they all wish to sleep with Tazaar,” the governor’s wife said with a glance at the tall boy with gold in his hair. “It’s Tazaar for athletes and the Abij-hah for fertility.”
Jeet’s hand froze halfway to his mouth with a bite of meat. The Oracle’s head jerked up and several heads turned toward the governor’s wife. She laughed. “It’s true. At least, that’s what people think. Jeet is Attis reborn, son of Cybele, goddess of fertility and the earth. Amnon slept with him, and now his new bride is already with child.”
The governor’s brother cocked an eyebrow. “Fertility, huh? The king might be interested to know that. I hear that he is disappointed in his efforts to have another son.”
Eyes around the table turned to Jeet. He swallowed uncomfortably.
“That brings us to what I wished to discuss with you tonight, Oracle,” the governor said. “Let’s talk about the King’s trip here. I know the king, and I’m certain that he will not overrule me in the matter of Jeet’s encounter with Stycus, but he has heard about Jeet’s popularity. Undoubtedly, he wants to see Jeet for himself and satisfy himself that the Abij-hah is no upstart with political ambitions. We need to discuss how to receive him and how to put his mind at ease.”
After dinner, the guests gathered in groups of two or three around Jeet and the other eunuchs. “Governor,” the Oracle said, drawing him to one side. “May I ask you a question?”
“Certainly, Oracle,” he answered with a smile and a slight incline of his head.
“At the hearing – after the high priest Stycus attacked Jeet – you said that your decision was based on Jeet belonging to me and not the priests.”
The governor nodded carefully, unsure where the Oracle was heading with her question. “It was a convenient position to take, Oracle,” he said. “It doesn’t mean that you can change how the shrine or the temple operate.”
She nodded, her eyes down and her brow furrowed in concentration. “Yes, but if technically my eunuchs belong to me, like you said, then I should be able to free them if I want.” She looked up at the governor for confirmation.
The governor laughed, taking her question as frivolous. “Oracle, I thought you liked your attendants. If you free them, you would lose them.”
She glanced at Jeet, out on the terrace surrounded by three of the women. Weela, off to one side with Jason, appeared to be waiting for an opportunity to talk to her brother once more. “I love them, Governor,” Anda said, and looked him in the eye. “That’s why I would free them.”
The governor’s smile faded. He glanced out onto the balcony where the Oracle had been looking. “And Jeet?” the governor asked quietly. “It is said that you are lovers. Are you willing to lose him?”
She met his gaze. “He would not leave me.”
The governor glanced once more toward Jeet. If ever a boy had a spirit to be free, certainly this one would. “Are you sure he wouldn’t leave you Oracle?”
He returned his gaze to hers, and her eyes were steady. “He is my husband, Governor,” she answered.
The governor suppressed a smile; she was obviously serious. They were barely more than children. She was a hermaphrodite – granted, an attractive one – and he was a eunuch. To call Jeet her husband bordered on the absurd. Besides, whatever romantic fantasies they were currently indulging in, they would only be temporary. The governor shook his head. “Oracle, Jarus went along with my decision at the hearing because he didn’t want to see any more harm come to Jeet just as I didn’t. But make no mistake; he would not go along with releasing your attendants. And frankly, neither would the citizens of Kaleh, and neither would I.”
He put a hand on her shoulder, and for a moment, was surprised that it was firm, like a boy’s, not soft like a woman’s. “Oracle,” he said, gently. “Powerful men are coming here; men who might possibly want your eunuchs for themselves. Hold them in a tight grip – in a very tight grip.” He squeezed her shoulder with emphasis as he said it. “If you do, the high priests, me, and the entire city will support you.”
“Keep the garments,” Jason called out as the other eunuchs prepared to return Jeet to his breechcloth before leaving.
Jeet bowed his head. “The priests allow us to only wear breechcloths,” he told Jason, apologetically.
Jason came to him, and grasped him by the shoulders, as a friend might do. “Keep them,” he said with a smile, and leaned close. “The Oracle might enjoy undressing you some night.”
Jeet smiled gratefully, and nodded.
As the Oracle’s party approached the door to leave, they paused while Jeet gave Weela a long, parting embrace. When he released her, the Oracle took Jeet’s hand and gave him a look not unlike the look a wife might give her husband. The Governor saw, and he reminded himself that these two were not like other children.
+ + + + +
It was two audiences of the Oracle later that a wealthy young man came before her with his wife. “My wife is barren,” the man told the Oracle. “I wish for her to sleep with the Abij-hah, that he might open her womb.”
All eyes went onto the wife, a girl in her late teens, with long brown hair, dark eyes, full lips, and pleasing features. Jeet swallowed, glanced at the Oracle who was impassive behind her mask, and then at the man. “How long have you been married?” was all he could think to ask.
“Four years, beloved one,” the man said. “My family wants me to divorce this woman and take a new wife. But I love her and wish to stay with her. If she sleeps with you, Abij-hah, she will become fertile.”
Jeet looked around for Jarus, but did not see him. He glanced again at the Oracle, wishing he could see her expression. Jarus had always said to never give an answer the day a supplicant first came, and this time, Jeet was more than happy to comply. He had no idea how the Oracle would feel about him sleeping with a woman. “Come tomorrow for the Oracle’s answer,” Jeet told the man. To himself, he thought that if ever he needed a dream, he would need it now.
“This is different,” insisted the Oracle.
“I knew you would say that,” Jarus acknowledged. “That’s why I came when I heard about the request. But it is really no different than when Jeet slept with Amnon or any of the boys who have come for athletic training,” Jarus said.
“It’s a woman this time,” Anda said with a glare. “He is my husband.”
“Oracle,” Jarus said, patiently, “the love between you has not been affected by any of the others, has it. Do you not trust Jeet?”
She glanced at Jeet who had kept his silence. “He hasn’t said anything,” Anda complained. “He’s already fondling her breasts in his imagination.”
Jeet shook his head, smiling sadly, and came to her. Kneeling beside her, he took her hands in his. “She is an attractive woman, Anda, but do you so easily forget that I am a eunuch? I was not thinking of her breasts.” He frowned. “I was trying to think how to answer her husband. I’m no god that I can make a barren woman fertile.”
“Sleep with her,” Jarus said. “People will come up with their own reasons why she still can bear no children. They will say she has been sinful or angered the gods.”
Jeet shook his head. “I would not like to see her condemned that way.”
Jarus waved dismissively. “It is probably what they already say of her.”
+ + + + +
The young woman’s name was Doris, and she came quietly as Jeet led her by the hand to the shrine chamber prepared for them. She was dressed almost as a bride, with flowers in her hair and in a chiton of fine cotton.
Jeet had had his dream, and he knew what he must do. Or more specifically, he knew what the married couple’s problem was from the dream, and he had come up with a plan. But first, he needed to know the girl’s heart on the matter.
He faced her, still holding her hand. She was slightly taller than him, and he looked up into her eyes. “Do you wish to remain with your husband, Doris?” he asked.
She nodded, and cast her gaze to the floor.
“Is sleeping with me something you wish to do?” he asked next.
She blushed slightly and nodded.
That was all Jeet needed to know at this point. His next question would have to wait until he had made love to her, and had her in a receptive mood.
Gently, he removed the flowers from her hair and let it fall down her back. Then he kissed her lips softly before removing her garments. She stood, head down, as he removed her clothing a piece at a time until she stood before him completely nude.
She was a slender girl with narrow shoulders and rounded hips. Those things did not excite him. But she had a small patch of pubic hair, and that did. Her breasts, though small, were well-shaped, and they excited him as well. Her nipples were dark. Jeet cupped her breasts in his hands and bent to kiss them. He closed his mouth over one and sucked gently. She clutched his hair and her eyes closed.
For reasons that Jeet did not want to think about, moving his cock inside another man’s wife attenuated his pleasure. Though Doris’ vagina wasn’t as snug on his cock as the Oracle’s, her body was softer. She responded well to him, climaxing once before he did, and now she was warming to another orgasm. He was still hard inside her, and he kept moving it to keep her warm. It was a good time for the next step.
“Doris,” he whispered in her ear. “The Oracle knows why you have borne no children.”
“Umm,” she murmured as she moved under him.
“It is not you. Your womb is not barren. It is your husband. He is a dry twig. He will never sire a child.”
She paused under him, and Jeet lifted his head to look down into her eyes. “Waiting outside this chamber is Cyndur; a strong and handsome athlete. His coloring and features are not very different than your husband’s, though he is younger and his body far stronger. If I call, he will come to you, and he will plant his seed in your womb. If the timing is good, you will bear the child you desire.”
Jeet watched her face. He saw the idea take hold. He moved his hips, wanting to keep her ready. “You can bear a child by Cyndur and your husband will keep you. But you must go to your husband right away when you leave here tomorrow and make love with him. None of us will ever speak of what happened here in the shrine.”
“Do you wish me to call Cyndur?” he asked.
She nodded again.
Jeet called out and Cyndur came in to the room wearing only a loincloth. Doris’ eyes went to him, and as Jeet moved his cock inside her, the sight of Cyndur’s body excited her. His cock was half-erect, and as he watched Jeet’s butt flexing between Doris’ legs, his cock rose further. He pulled off his loincloth and his eyes met Doris’ as hers rose from his middle.
Jeet moved off her and Cyndur moved up, standing between her legs. He stroked his cock over her, and she slipped her hands between her legs. She grabbed inside her thighs and moved her hips for him. Jeet left as the athlete dropped to his knees between Doris’ legs.
Outside the doorway, Tazaar waited. He grabbed Jeet by his still-erect cock. “You have robbed my bed of my lover tonight, Jeet-hah,” he whispered. “Now you must take his place.”
+ + + + +
“No,” the Oracle said. “Not this time.”
“But Oracle,” Jarus protested, stepping closer to keep his voice down, “she is a very rich woman, and she has offered a lot of money for a secret rendezvous with the Abij-hah.”
“Let her find some other boy,” Anda said angrily from her seat in the shrine hall. “Let her go to the boy prostitutes at the temple.”
Jarus sighed, considering. It might be wise to let the Oracle have her way this time; especially since it involved Jeet. “She would never do that, but perhaps she would take Tazaar,” the high priest speculated out loud.
The Oracle shook her head, glancing at her eunuchs who stood close by. “Tazaar is not fond of women,” she said.
Ptolemy stepped forward. “Oracle,” he said, bowing. “Perhaps the lady would like two boys. Bantu and I would be willing to serve.”
Jarus nodded thoughtfully, as he looked the boys over. “Perhaps so.”
+ + + + +
The last weeks of summer passed all too quickly and the first signs of fall arrived all too soon for the people of Kaleh who were making final preparations for the arrival of the king. However, inside the temple, time passed slowly for Stycus. He had prepared his arguments for the king – basically, the kingdom itself would be in peril if slaves were allowed to lift their hands against masters.
He comforted himself with visions of Jeet being executed any number of different ways. At the very least, he hoped that the king’s brother would take the boy away far from Kaleh, use him, and discard him. A favorite dream was of Jeet being sold to a boys’ brothel and being used over and over… the pampered little Abij-hah, fucked and humiliated and tossed out onto a human trash heap.
In the shrine, the Oracle and her eunuchs worried, and Jeet prayed to the god who protected him to grant him favor in the king’s eyes.
+ + + + +
The governor glanced from his wife to his son as he paced. They were sitting on a bench in one of the citadel gardens. “Even if we hide her,” the governor said, “the King could hear about Weela and demand to see her.”
“But she’s just a child, Hector,” his wife protested. “Certainly the king wouldn’t take her from us.”
“I’ll take her into the country or to another city,” Jason said, determinedly.
The governor shook his head. “That could pose an entirely different set of dangers. No, I’ve been thinking.” He sat down on a bench opposite the one on which his wife and son sat, and leaned forward, forearms resting on his knees. “The problem is that Weela is a slave. But look, sooner or later, Weela is going to bear Jason a child.”
The governor’s wife smiled. “Hector, what are you thinking?”
“Well,” he said, spreading his hands, “we all love Weela, don’t we?”
His wife and son nodded.
“She wasn’t born a slave,” the governor said. “She was high-born. We know she comes from warriors. One need only look at her and Jeet to know they are from good stock. Weela is well-born, and now her brother is Abij-hah, and destined, I believe, to be a great man.”
“You’ll let me marry her?” Jason asked hopefully.
“After we make her free,” the governor said. “Not even the king would take another man’s wife, not if she wasn’t a slave. Besides, Jason, I will not have your first-born child born as a slave.”
“Jason is still young,” his wife pointed out, but it was clear she didn’t think that would be an obstacle.
“We have two or three weeks until the king arrives,” the governor said. “We’ll need to hurry to make all the preparations.”
“If they marry before the king arrives,” his wife pointed out, “we could lock Jason and Weela away for their nuptials, hopefully for the entire time he’s here.”
“That’s not likely,” the governor said. “He might stay for a month.”
“Jeet needs to be at the wedding,” Jason said. “Weela will want him there.” Then Jason smiled. “He has the clothes to wear.”
+ + + + +
Jarus walked across the courtyard to talk to Jeet and the Oracle. Advance riders from the king had arrived that morning to say that the King would be in Kaleh the following day. The priest walked with his head down in concentration.
Half a dozen parents were waiting in the afternoon sun for Jeet to bless their children. Bantu moved among them, lining up the families. Rem had taken his place behind the Abij-hah and was rubbing the back of Jeet’s shoulder affectionately as the first child was brought forward.
Jarus leaned back against a shrine column to watch, and he reflected on the summer. The stream of supplicants before the Oracle was steady now, and far more lucrative than had been the case with the previous Oracle. Between Jeet’s dreams and their shared common sense, the Oracle had given good answers to all who came. People had begun to refer to her as The Great Oracle of Kaleh.
At Jarus’ suggestion, boys and youths wanting to spend an athletic week at the shrine had been separated out from the regular stream of supplicants, and they now constituted an entirely new source of income for the shrine. Though the number of boys appeared to be dwindling with the fall, Jarus hoped their number would increase again with the winter and the approach of spring games. That would mean income at a time of year that was traditionally slow for the shrine.
A third source of shrine income had begun. Twice, rich matrons had paid for secret meetings with the boys, as had one wealthy man. There would be others.
And now there could be a fourth source of shrine income. Word had spread that the young, barren wife who was brought to sleep with Jeet was already with child.
The shrine had become quite a lucrative operation, and if Jarus could simply figure out a way to get money from the parents who continued to bring children for the Abij-hah to bless, he would have a fifth source of income.
The marriage of the governor’s son to Jeet’s sister meant that relations with the citadel were the best they had ever been. The Oracle was happy as long as Jeet wasn’t rented out too often. The eunuchs all seemed happy enough. Ironically, their sex lives were the envy of everyone. It was known that they made love among themselves afternoons and evenings.
Jarus was even pleased that Jeet had arranged for them to learn to read and write and work with numbers. They were also learning skills such as working with fabrics. These things would make them valuable to the temple, even after they grew too old to be desired by men or women.
With Stycus locked away, the entire temple complex was prosperous and harmonious.
But the king and his brother were coming. They were coming without their wives, and Jarus considered that to be a bad sign. The high priest worried.
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