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 5 – A Choice of Eunuchs

Disorders of human sexual development, though rare, are natural. The causes can be many and result in an amazing spectrum of physicalities. Disregarding the underlying chromosomal or phenotypic mix and looking only at mixes of male and female external genitalia, there have been boys with two penises, girls with penises or boys with vaginas, boys with almost no penis, girls with abnormally large clitorises, and more… much more.

“I can bathe myself,” the Oracle protested, as she stared down into the large metal bath. Passion flowers floated on the surface, and the water looked inviting after a long day. She dipped a finger in it.

“Yes, Oracle,” Tazaar said. “But I can help you. I have been trained; we all have… by the high priests’ own attendants.” He reached to lift her dress from her shoulders, but she quickly grabbed both the fabric and his hands.

“Oracle,” Tazaar said patiently, “I am a eunuch. I am your servant.”

Slowly, she relaxed her grip, and Tazaar removed her clothing. She covered her breasts with an arm and between her legs with her hand, and she stepped into the water, quickly kneeling. Tazaar knelt behind her, outside the tub, and wetting a cloth, he cleansed her back.

As he worked, he couldn’t help making mental comparisons between the Oracle’s body and Cyndur’s. The comparison wasn’t favorable to the Oracle. She was far from ugly, and her genitalia didn’t repulse him. But Cyndur was a god to him. Even as Tazaar washed the Oracle’s back, it was Cyndur’s muscular back and flawless form that were on his mind.

The Oracle lifted a passion flower to her nose. “Tazaar,” she asked thoughtfully, “when they made you a eunuch, what did they do? What all did they cut off?”

It was the kind of question a mistress could ask a slave, and Tazaar answered as he rinsed the back of her neck. “They only cut open my scrotum and removed what was inside.”

The Oracle twirled the flower between her fingers. “Did they do the same thing with all six of you?”

“Yes.” Tazaar answered, as he gently rubbed the cloth on the side of her neck.

“Let me see,” she said.

Tazaar paused.

“Let me see what it looks like?” the Oracle repeated.

“Yes, Oracle,” Tazaar said. He stood up and came around to the front of the tub. There, he unfastened his belt and let his breechcloth drop. His cock dangled limply; eunuchs do not excite easily, and the Oracle did not excite him at all.

“Lift it up and come closer so I can see,” she said.

Tazaar lifted his cock out of the way, and stepped closer, spreading his legs so that the Oracle could see that his empty scrotum was drawn tightly up between his legs.

She studied him a moment, and then leaned back in the tub, more relaxed. “You have a nice body,” she said. “They should have never done that to you.”

Tazaar shrugged and knelt again beside the tub, this time taking one of the Oracle’s arms to work on. “My master didn’t want to sell me. He was going to keep me to serve in his house. He thought I would be strong, and he said I had good coloring.” Tazaar carefully cleaned down between the Oracle’s fingers. “My master said that when I was older, he would use me to father babies with his female slaves.”

The Oracle started to comment that Tazaar would have certainly liked that, but then thought better of it. “Why didn’t he keep you then?” the Oracle asked, leaning her head back and closing her eyes as Tazaar rinsed her arm.

“Because the temple offered him a lot of money,” Tazaar said simply.

“Were you born a slave?” she asked.

“Yes, Oracle.” He switched to her other arm.

The Oracle sighed. “That feels good,” she murmured. “Did they train all of you to do this?”

“Yes, Oracle.”

She thought a moment. “Who of the eunuchs wants to be Abij-hah?” she asked, watching Tazaar’s eyes to see his reaction.

He kept his head down. “We all do, Oracle.”

Tazaar finished with her arm. “If you will stand, Oracle, I will clean the rest of your body.”

The Oracle frowned. Letting an almost-fifteen-year-old boy clean her arms was one thing, but the rest of her body? Reluctantly, she stood up. Tazaar stood up as well, and the Oracle was acutely aware of his naked body as he moved behind her to clean her back. By the time he moved around to the front, the Oracle had an erection.

Tazaar paused. His eyes dropped to her erection, which was smaller than any of the eunuchs, but they had all been chosen for their bodies and looks, and Phrygians liked long cocks. The Oracle’s erection was still as big as many boys’. And yet, as incongruous as it was on a primarily girl’s body, Tazaar was comfortable with it. He knew how to clean around an erection. He just wasn’t sure how to clean the Oracle’s firm-looking breasts. He stared at them a moment too long.

“I’m finished,” the Oracle announced, stepping from the tub.

Tazaar scrambled to get the cloths he had for drying her. The Oracle grabbed one and turned away, drying her front. “Oracle,” Tazaar said, “I… I’m sorry if I hesitated. It’s just that I’ve never bathed a woman before.”

“I thought you were trained,” the Oracle said, annoyed and embarrassed.

“I have been, Oracle. Please, forgive me.” He draped a light cotton wrap around her shoulders.

She pulled it around her body and glanced at him.

“I’ll do better next time,” Tazaar promised.

The Oracle turned away. “I’m tired.” She moved to her bed and lay down on it. “You lie there,” she said, pointing to a pallet at the foot of her bed.

“Yes, Oracle,” Tazaar said. “I will be here if you need me.”

+ + + + +

It was Bantu’s idea to move all five of their pallets together, leaving Tazaar’s apart for the time being. As Ptolemy pointed out, whether the Oracle chose Tazaar as Abij-hah and he would sleep at the Oracle’s feet from then on, or the Oracle didn’t choose him and Cyndur stole in to share Tazaar’s bed every night, it might be good to leave it apart for the time being.

Jeet had been silent since the Oracle made her choice of Tazaar for the night, and he worked quietly now as the others talked excitedly of the events of the day and moved their pallets together. They continued talking as they removed their breechcloths for the night, trimmed all but one lamp, and sat in a circle on the bedding.

Jeet didn’t join them. Instead, he lay down on his stomach and faced away from them, the side of his face on the back of his hands. He stayed close though, with the side of his hip against Aruli’s tailbone because the feel of Aruli’s skin against his own comforted Jeet. He closed his eyes, but didn’t sleep. He listened to the others.

They talked about the procession and the boys who joined them with cartwheels and handsprings. “How about the short one?” Bantu asked with a grin. “His tunic kept coming up and you could see everything.”

The others laughed. “He was showing off for me,” Aruli claimed.

“Oh, sure,” Jin said, and, with a playful growl, he pulled Aruli, who was sitting beside him, across his lap and tickled him.

Their conversation moved on to the food from the sacrifices. They talked about finally seeing the inside of the temple. They talked about their singing and dancing and how it was received. And then they talked about the Oracle. “I think she is pretty,” Jin said.

“But between her legs,” Ptolemy said, wagging his head. “That is so strange!”

“What about you, Jeet?” Aruli asked, twisting back from where he lay across Jin’s lap. He laid his hand on Jeet’s bare back. “What did you think of the Oracle?”

Jeet pretended to be asleep.

Aruli sat up and wheeled around. He studied Jeet a moment, trying to decide if he was indeed asleep. Then he lay down by his friend, cocking a leg over Jeet’s small, smooth bottom. He hugged Jeet’s back and kissed the back of his head. “Jeet-hah, he said softly. “What did you think of the Oracle?”

Jeet’s only answer was an abrupt shake of his head. Ptolemy came around and sat cross-legged in front of Jeet. Bantu followed and lay down on his side across Ptolemy’s lap. Jin stretched out behind Aruli, propping on his elbow to lean over Aruli from behind. They exchanged glances.

“It’s not like she’s made a final decision yet, Jeet,” Bantu said, and when Jeet opened his eyes, Bantu flashed him an encouraging smile. He reached across and squeezed Jeet’s shoulder. “When she does, she’ll pick me,” Bantu said with a blue-eyed wink.

Jeet didn’t smile.

“No she won’t,” Ptolemy said. “And she won’t pick me.” He bent over his lap, wrapping one of his dark-skinned arms under Bantu’s pale-skinned neck and another across Bantu’s chest, and he hugged his friend up and back to his chest. Gold highlights in Bantu’s red hair glittered against Ptolemy’s dark skin in the flickering lamplight. “But you can sleep at my feet Bantu,” Ptolemy said, giving his friend a good shake.

“No thank you,” Bantu said with a sly grin at the other boys. “I will sleep behind you, Ptolemy, and keep my cock warm in your oven all night.”

Ptolemy lowered his mouth to Bantu’s neck and blew a farting sound. Bantu jumped with a squeal, but Ptolemy held him tightly and blew again while Bantu struggled.

“If you aren’t chosen,” Aruli said quietly beside Jeet’s ear, “you will sleep with Jin and me.”

Bantu froze. “No he won’t,” he said with a mock frown. He laid his hand possessively on Jeet’s shoulder. “You two have had him to yourselves way too much. He will sleep with Ptolly and me.”

There was a movement at the doorway. Jeet, Aruli, and Jin looked up. The other two turned around to see what had caught their attention. Cyndur, in a dark cloak, stood in the doorway.

They scrambled to their feet. Cyndur came forward to Jeet. Placing his hands on Jeet’s shoulders, he bent to Jeet’s eyelevel. “Where is Tazaar?” he asked in a whisper.

“Tonight, Tazaar is sleeping at the feet of the Oracle,” Bantu answered for Jeet.

Cyndur glanced at Bantu and frowned, his hands still on Jeet’s shoulders. “Has she decided already?” Cyndur asked in alarm.

The boys shook their heads. “Only tonight,” Jin said. “She chose Tazaar for tonight.”

Cyndur’s frown deepened and he turned away, then back, glancing at each of them. “I have spoken to my father about buying Tazaar from the Oracle,” he said. “Damn! I thought I would have more time to approach the Oracle about it.”

The eunuchs exchanged glances.

Cyndur came back to Jeet, frowning. “This spoils everything! She was supposed to choose you. I wanted her to choose you.”

Jeet’s eyes widened.

Cyndur shook his head. “Look, Tazaar wants to be Abij-hah and he didn’t want me to try to buy him yet in case the Oracle chose him. That was fine with me because I knew she would choose you, Jeet. Then Tazaar would be willing to let me buy him.”

“I am sorry,” Jeet said, sincerely.

Cyndur’s frown deepened and he turned to pace.

“She has thirty days to choose,” Ptolemy pointed out. “She may not choose for a long time yet.”

Cyndur stopped. “Thirty days?”

The boys nodded.

“And Tazaar only sleeps at her feet tonight?”

“She only chose him for tonight,” Bantu confirmed.

“Good,” Cyndur said with a decisive nod. “It is not a good sign that she chose Tazaar tonight, but maybe she will choose a different one of you each night.”

“Perhaps so,” Bantu quietly agreed, exchanging glances with Ptolemy.

Cyndur paused in his pacing. His eyes dropped to the naked bodies of the eunuchs. “I will miss Tazaar tonight,” he said, swallowing. “Tazaar was on my mind all day. All day, all I could think about was holding his naked body in my arms.” He smiled sadly. “I came ready for him.” Cyndur threw his cloak back over his shoulders to reveal that he was naked under it. His cock was thick and, as he eyed the bodies of the young eunuchs, his cock thickened even more. His eyes met Jeet’s and he came forward to him. Once more, he took Jeet by the shoulders and pulled the boy forward to whisper in his ear. “You are Tazaar’s friend. You could take care of me for Tazaar.”

Standing almost belly to belly with the tall, sixteen-year-old athlete, Jeet felt Cyndur’s cock pressing sideways on his belly. His pulse raced, and he suddenly found it hard to breathe. Cyndur dropped his hands to Jeet’s waist and moved forward so that their bare bellies touched.

With a gasp, Jeet pulled back, wresting himself from Cyndur’s hands. The others looked on with the concern any slave has when a powerful young master might be offended.

“Tazaar is my friend,” Jeet said. “You belong to him. I could not do such a thing.”

Cyndur’s nostrils flared and his face darkened. He took a step forward as though he would take Jeet anyway. “You are a slave,” he said.

“But I am not your slave, Cyndur.” Jeet answered quietly, his eyes steady. “Do you not love Tazaar?”

Cyndur’s breath caught, and he looked away. “Yes,” he said in a thick voice. “I love Tazaar.” He stood there a moment, and then quietly pulled his cloak back around him. He started to turn toward the door, but then turned back to Jeet. “Tell Tazaar… tell Tazaar that I’m sorry. Tell him…” He frowned. “Tell him that having balls sometimes makes a man mad.”

Jeet nodded, though he wondered briefly if the raw physical desire that Cyndur felt was any stronger than the desire Jeet felt to be with the Oracle – where he knew he belonged. He sympathized with Cyndur. “We will tell Tazaar that you came for him and left very sad that he was not here.”

Cyndur nodded gratefully, then suddenly pulled Jeet into his arms. Jeet could feel Cyndur’s hardness press between them, and he felt Cyndur’s strength in the arms the older boy threw around him. “Someday perhaps,” Cyndur whispered with hot breath, “Tazaar and I will have you to our bed… together.”

Jeet nodded. His felt his cock lengthening, and it took an effort of will to not return the embrace.. But then Cyndur released him and hurried out the door.

The others glanced at Jeet. Bantu’s eyes fell to Jeet’s slightly engorged member and then fell to his own cock, which had thickened as well. The others saw the direction of his glances and they looked around at each other’s middles. They were all in a state of semi-arousal.

Aruli took a deep breath and let out a sigh.

“I would have done it,” Jin said softly.

“Who wouldn’t,” Bantu agreed.

“But Jeet was right,” Ptolemy said. “And we all knew it as soon as he said it.”

Jin shook his head. “I still can’t believe you turned him down.”

“I can’t believe that you talked to him that way,” Aruli said.

“I can,” Ptolemy said, stepping up to hug Jeet from behind. “Our brave Jeet,” he softly said. He put his forehead on the back of Jeet’s head and took a deep breath of Jeet’s scent. He pressed his hardening cock against Jeet’s bare butt and pulled Jeet back to him with the flats of his hands on Jeet’s belly and chest. “Let Bantu and me comfort you tonight, Jeet-hah,” he whispered.

“Aruli and I can do that,” Jin quickly said.

Bantu stepped between Jin and Jeet. “Jeet is also our brother,” he said to Jin. “You two have done intimate things with Jeet many times.” He turned to Jeet and slid his hand up the side of Jeet’s face; his fingers onto Jeet’s sleek, black hair. He moved close to Jeet so that their partial erections pressed each other aside. “You have tasted of Jeet many times, Jin,” he said softly, his eyes roaming Jeet’s features. “Let us taste him tonight and comfort him with our bodies.” He smiled at Jeet and put his forehead on Jeet’s forehead. “We love Jeet, too,” he whispered, and then kissed Jeet softly on the lips.

Reaching down, Bantu closed his hand around Jeet’s cock and pulled it upward between their bodies; and then did the same with his own while Ptolemy pressed Jeet’s body from behind. “We have learned from Aruli and Jin,” Ptolemy whispered. “We have learned from them what you have taught them. And we have watched Cyndur and Tazaar. We can please you tonight, Jeet.”

Bantu closed his eyes and kissed Jeet on the lips once more. He pressed his body to Jeet’s from the front so that Jeet was pressed between the two of them; taller Ptolemy and shorter Bantu. “Even if the Oracle doesn’t pick you to be Abij-hah,” Bantu whispered, “You will be our Jeet-hah... Jeet-hah.” He buried his mouth in the side of Jeet’s neck, and Jeet laid his head back onto Ptolemy’s shoulder. From the corner of his eye, just before he closed his eyes, he saw Aruli and Jin lie down together.

Ptolemy and Bantu rubbed their smooth-skinned bodies and hard cocks against his own. Their hands explored him and squeezed at his slender muscles.

“Lie down, Jeet,” Ptolemy told him, and he helped Jeet down onto the bedding and onto his back. The two of them – long, dark Ptolemy with his aquiline features and Bantu with his honest face, wide shoulders, and creamy skin now lightly golden in the lamplight – lay down on either side of him, and pressed their bodies to his sides. They kissed the sides of his face and then the sides of his neck. They kissed down over his chest, and each placed a mouth on one of his nipples. They sucked gently, and tongued Jeet’s tiny, dark areolas until his nipples were hard and he clutched at their long, bound hair.

They slid farther down his body, kissing over his belly and sides. They licked in his navel and then gently drew their tongues down the hollows inside his hipbones. They met between his legs and licked and kissed inside his thighs. They licked his constricted, but sensitive scrotum and then up the sides of his shaft.

Jeet grasped at the tops of their heads and moaned as first Ptolemy and then Bantu sucked his erection into their mouths. Jeet’s head rolled and he saw Aruli on his back. Jin was lying on him, belly to belly with his hips between Aruli’s legs. His hips were pumping and Aruli’s legs were locked around Jin’s waist. They were kissing and moving together in ways that Jeet had not taught them.

“Jeet,” Bantu whispered beside his ear. Ptolemy was between Jeet’s legs now, taking Jeet’s cock deep into his throat. Jeet turned toward Bantu. “Jeet,” Bantu whispered, “do to me what Jin is doing to Aruli.” He stretched out beside Jeet and rolled to his back, extending his arms across his body for Jeet to join him.

Ptolemy lifted his head, and Jeet rolled up onto all-fours. He moved over between Bantu’s legs and Bantu pulled his knees up and out for him.

Jeet stared down for a moment at Bantu’s well-built body. He watched Bantu’s belly and chest muscles rise and fall as his friend breathed. In the flickering lamp light, Bantu’s shorter, but thicker cock lay straight up Bantu’s flat belly. His eyes met Bantu’s and Bantu smiled. Jeet smiled back, and then knelt up at Bantu’s bottom. Ptolemy handed Jeet a small vessel of oil and Jeet took it.

He spread some into Bantu’s crack and some over his cock. Then he pointed his cock downward and Bantu pulled his knees higher, lifting his butt. Jeet placed his crown at Bantu’s opening and leaned forward. His cock bent slightly before his cockhead disappeared inside Bantu with a sudden pop that Jeet felt rather than heard. Bantu’s tightness closed around Jeet’s shaft, and Jeet paused at the sensation. Then he leaned forward onto his hands and eased his hips downward. He felt Bantu’s opening, tight, but slick with oil, pass up his shaft while at the same time his cock buried itself in the warmth inside Bantu.

Then he was all the way in, his loins pressing firmly against Bantu’s bottom bones which stretched Jeet long into Bantu. Jeet felt the other boy’s tightness clinch around the base of his shaft and held himself there as he felt a small spasm at Bantu’s opening. Then, still deeply buried, he lay down onto Bantu who wrapped his arms over the back of Jeet’s shoulders. Jeet let his weight settle onto his friend, belly to belly. He wrapped his arms over the top of Bantu’s head and nuzzled into his neck.

“Jeet-hah,” Bantu whispered with affection.

“Bantu-hah,” Jeet whispered back. And it occurred to Jeet that as disappointed as he would be if the Oracle did not choose him, he would still have Bantu to love, and Ptolemy, and Jin, and Aruli, and Tazaar.

He grabbed Bantu by the backs of Bantu’s shoulders and began to pump his hips with that mixture of sexual pleasure and intimate affection that boys often have when making love with a friend.

Bantu sighed and Jeet nodded. “It feels good, Bantu-hah,” Jeet whispered.

“Umm,” Bantu agreed, rubbing his soft cheek against Jeet’s while grinding his cock up against Jeet’s firm belly. And then Jeet felt Ptolemy’s long fingers run lightly over his moving, clenching butt, and Jeet clenched his butt tightly for him. From beside them came the quiet slap, slap, slap and occasional grunt of Jin’s and Aruli’s lovemaking. The scent of oil, warmed by their bodies, filled the room.

Ptolemy rubbed oil between Jeet’s butt cheeks and then knelt behind Jeet with a knee on either side of Jeet’s legs. He leaned forward, steadying himself with a hand on the back of Jeet’s shoulder.

Jeet paused when he felt Ptolemy’s cockhead probing at his entrance. Ptolemy found Jeet’s opening and he eased in, settling down, wiggling his hips until his cock was well-seated. Then he lowered his body onto Jeet’s back.

“Ugh!” Bantu groaned.

“Are we too heavy?” Jeet asked, lifting his head.

Bantu smiled and shook his head. “The weight of your bodies feels good.”

“This feels good to me, too,” Jeet agreed.

Ptolemy grabbed Jeet’s shoulders and ground in with his hips. “Feels good to me, too.”

“Well it would for you,” Bantu said with a playful frown.

“We can trade later,” Ptolemy said. “I think I’d like what you’re doing.”

“You’d both like what I’m doing,” Jeet said, giving his hips a couple of quick pumps; forward into Bantu and back onto Ptolemy.

“Ah! Ah! Aaaah!” Aruli suddenly called out from beside them.

The three of them turned to see Aruli arching back under his albino friend, his legs thrashing out to the sides. Even as his orgasm was finishing, Aruli pushed Jin up by the shoulders and looked down between their bellies. “I squirted!” Aruli yelled in triumph. “I finally squirted!” He rubbed his hand on his belly and lifted it. There was clear, thin liquid that glistened in the lamplight on his fingertips.

“Congratulations! Aruli,” Jin said.

“Well done, Aruli-hah,” Jeet said with a happy smile for his friend.

“We should celebrate,” Ptolemy said.

“We are celebrating,” Bantu said with a twinkle in his eye.

“This is a good omen for you, Aruli,” Ptolemy said. “To have your first squirt on the very day that the Oracle arrives… that has to be a good omen for you.”

“You have to fuck us all now, Aruli,” Jin said, grinning, even as he continued to pump his hips. “You have to shoot some of your ‘good omen’ into each of us.” Then Jin lay back down onto Aruli with his head facing the other three boys. He winked at the others. “But first I must share some good omen with you.”

Jeet looked down at Bantu’s smiling face. He wanted to be with the Oracle. It was where he knew he should be. But he liked it here, between the warm bodies of his friends, his brothers… joined with them… brothers he had already come to love. “Bantu,” he whispered. “Open your mouth, just a little. I’m going to show you a new way to kiss.”

+ + + + +

Jeet woke with an erection that night, which had become increasingly rare since becoming a eunuch. It was early morning, still before sunrise. He had fallen asleep between Bantu and Ptolemy, and he awoke, spooned behind tall Ptolemy.

Ptolemy’s bottom was in Jeet’s lap, pressing Jeet’s erection back up against his belly. It felt good, and Jeet ground sleepily against Ptolemy. The more he ground, the more he awakened. His arm was over Ptolemy’s side, and he hugged the taller boy – gently, so as not to awaken him – because that felt good as well, and he nuzzled in, high up between Ptolemy’s shoulders.

Ptolemy’s butt moved, pressing back against Jeet. Then the taller boy rolled to his back, and in the darkness, Jeet felt the warmth of Ptolemy’s breath, and then the softness of Ptolemy’s face as Ptolemy sought his. “Aruli told us what you said,” Ptolemy whispered. “About it being important for us to have sex every day. It must be working for you.”

There was humor in Ptolemy’s voice, and Jeet smiled as he kissed the side of Ptolemy’s cheek. “The oil is still to the side here somewhere…” Ptolemy said as he searched in the darkness. “Ah, found it.”

Ptolemy rolled away, was quiet a moment, but from his movements, Jeet guessed that he was applying oil to his bottom. Then Jeet felt Ptolemy reach for and find his cock. While Ptolemy applied a thin bit of oil to it, Jeet rubbed Ptolemy’s belly.

But then the taller boy rolled onto his stomach. Jeet lingered beside him for a moment, drawing his fingers up and down the smooth skin of Ptolemy’s long, slender form. The taller boy sighed, relaxing. With a kiss to Ptolemy’s shoulder, Jeet knelt up and sat on the backs of the taller boy’s legs while he located Ptolemy’s butt in the dark.

He rose on his knees. Angling downward, he found the warm crevice between the smooth globes of Ptolemy’s bottom. He pushed in and found Ptolemy’s entrance with the crown of his cock. He pressed forward and felt himself slip through Ptolemy’s tightness and into his warmth.

Very slowly, Jeet lay down onto Ptolemy, letting his legs fall outside Ptolemy’s. He settled onto him with the mound of the taller boy’s firm bottom comfortably under his loins. Jeet slid his hands, palms up, under the front of Ptolemy’s shoulders to hold on, and laid the side of his face down onto the smooth skin at the back of Ptolemy’s neck as he began to grind his hips.

It felt good – not only on his cock; not only erotically and sensually – but it also felt companionable. He kissed the skin inside Ptolemy’s neck while squeezing Ptolemy’s shoulders in his hands. Ptolemy reached back and gave Jeet’s bottom a pat. He left his hand there for a moment to feel the cool, soft skin and flexing muscles of Jeet’s bottom.

Jeet took his time, simply enjoying. Ptolemy’s hand fell away and the taller boy’s breathing became regular. Jeet smiled to himself at Ptolemy’s sleeping while having a cock up his butt, and he kept his movements rhythmic and gentle until the very end when he couldn’t resist pumping faster and pressing deep.

He gasped and whimpered at entirely new sensations as clear semen pulsed out through his shaft for the first time. He shuddered and his butt clinched over and over to squeeze out his first meager offering.

Jeet hugged onto Ptolemy and smiled to himself as the words ‘good omen’ came to mind. He had pumped his first ‘good omen’ into Ptolemy on the very same night that Aruli had his first cum. Certainly, that was a good omen for them both.

As Jeet lay there, his softening cock still inside Ptolemy, he thought about Aruli and the affection he had for him. He thought of the affection they all felt for each other and how easily they expressed it the very night the Oracle came to them – no male struggling to be dominant; no Greek insistence on fucking but not being fucked. It seemed so natural instead, to share an open and easy lovemaking.

And then he thought about the Oracle, remembering her face… and her body. He drifted into sleep wondering if the Oracle would want good omen, and he dreamed that the entire world heard that it was good omen for a eunuch of the Oracle’s to pump his clear semen into someone, and there were long lines at the shrine, of youths and young girls, coming for the good omen of the eunuchs. He didn’t wake when his flaccid cock slipped from inside Ptolemy; and in the morning, he did not remember the dream.

+ + + + +

In the grand hall of the shrine that next morning, they introduced the Oracle to the shrine guards, and to new servants who would help serve at the shrine.

Jeet thought that the Oracle looked striking. He watched her closely and was pleased with her carriage and demeanor. She would be an excellent Oracle; at least in a political and administrative sense. She conducted herself like a young princess.

But he did wonder about her prescience. If she was truly an oracle – if she could truly see events to come – then did she see something his dreams had not told him? Did she not see that they were meant to be together?

From time to time, she glanced his way, always as if only glancing in his general direction, but she was checking on him; he knew it. He smiled once – he hoped, encouragingly – and she glanced away.

Among the servants to be introduced was a young boy of ten who Jeet had seen around the temple before. The ceremony was not formal, and the young eunuchs, in linen breechcloths, and with their hair pulled back and bound in long tails, were leaning against one of the sidewalls to watch. The boy saw Jeet and came to stand beside him until called. “Hi Rem,” Jeet said.

“Hi Jeet,” the boy answered. “I’m sorry the Oracle didn’t choose you to be Abij-hah.”

“The Oracle hasn’t chosen yet,” Jeet replied.

“Oh,” the boy answered. Then he smiled. “Good!” He tugged on Jeet’s shoulder and Jeet leaned down so that Rem could whisper into his ear. “Everybody wants her to choose you.”

Jeet smiled gratefully, and straightened back up. “I’m glad you will be helping in the shrine,” he said.

“Me too,” Rem answered. He was eyelevel with Jeet’s chest, and his eyes dropped to the smooth skin over Jeet’s pectoral muscles. They were high and tight. His eyes continued downward to the soft skin over Jeet’s taut belly. Then Rem glanced at them all – at all their slender, graceful forms and beautiful faces – and he thought that he wouldn’t mind being like them someday.

Ono appeared at the entrance to the great hall and waved for Jeet to come to him. He had something wrapped in linen under his arm. When Jeet reached him, Ono pulled Jeet out onto the front portico of the shrine and unwrapped the linen. “I have brought you a present from Jarus,” he said. Ono revealed a new harp.

Jeet’s breath caught. “Oh,” he murmured, and he reached out to touch it admiringly with his long fingers. The harp was made from polished brass set in a dark mahogany frame with ivory inlays.

“That old plotter, Jarus, thinks you might do better with the Oracle if you had a harp,” Ono told him.

“It’s beautiful,” Jeet said, drawing a finger down one string.

“It has a good sound. I chose it myself. Take good care of it.”

Jeet nodded. “I will. I’ll put it in our quarters where I keep my clothing and the jewelry assigned to me.”

Ono smiled and embraced him. “Are you doing alright, Jeet-hah?” he softly asked.

Jeet nodded, hugging Ono in return with one hand while holding the harp in his other hand. “I am, Ono,” he said, honestly.

+ + + + +

When the Oracle retired to her quarters to rest after the midday sacrifice, the young eunuchs left Tazaar on his pallet at her feet, and walked down to the shrine bathhouse to bathe.

“Tazaar told me that she pisses standing up,” Bantu said as they walked. “Like a boy. Like her penis is really a penis. And you know what else he told me? Tazaar told me that it didn’t go well for him last night.”

Jeet nodded. “He told me, too. He said that when he was bathing her…”

“He didn’t know what to do with her breasts!” Bantu finished for him, laughing.

“Seriously?” Jin asked as they entered the bathhouse. He glanced from one to the other of his friends. “What do you do with them?”

“You wash them just like you would the chest of a man,” Jeet told them. “The nipples are sensitive. The breasts are a little sensitive as well. But mainly, you just wash them.”

“You can wash my breasts, Jeet,” Bantu said with a grin, holding his hands up as if cupping breasts. “You can show us how.”

+ + + + +

“Jeet.” Rufus, captain of the shrine guards, spoke softly so as not to disturb the Oracle and the temple priestesses she was meeting that afternoon. “There is someone here to see you.”

Rufus took Jeet’s hand and led him out onto the front steps of the shrine. Jeet froze for a moment when he saw Praxis. The man was standing with a bag made from new leather slung over his shoulder. Rufus left him, and Jeet approached Praxis, unsmiling.

“Hello, Jeet,” Praxis said in subdued greeting.

“Hello,” Jeet answered back.

Praxis tugged at the bag strap nervously. “I am sorry about what they did to you.”

Jeet said nothing.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t want to see me,” Praxis said.

Again, Jeet said nothing.

“Jeet,” Praxis said, frowning. “I had no choice. You must know that.”

Jeet had known that, but it had never softened the sharp feeling of betrayal.

“It is nice for you here though, right Jeet?” Praxis asked hopefully. “It is pretty down here on the river. You have this whole place to be out and moving around,” he said, glancing around the temple.”

“And I have friends,” Jeet said.

Praxis’ eyes came back to the boy, and he smiled. “I’m glad. I suppose I was never much of a friend for you.”

Jeet shrugged. “I miss Weela,” he said. “I miss when we were together.” He glanced around the sunlit temple grounds. “But I like it here.”

“You will like it more if you are chosen Abij-hah,” Praxis said, leaning closer. “I heard that she chose another to sleep at her feet last night.”

“How do you know of this?” Jeet asked in surprise. “How do you know how she chose last night?”

Praxis smiled. “The whole city knows. They know you all by name. The boy last night was Tazaar, right?”

Jeet nodded.

Praxis leaned closer as if speaking confidentially. “Everyone is wagering on who the Oracle will choose. Until last night, you were favored.”

Jeet said nothing.

“Jeet-hah,” Praxis whispered. “I have brought you something to help you find favor with the Oracle.” He opened the leather bag for Jeet to see. “I have brought you a jar of almond oil and two kinds of bathing salts to mix with it for her bath, and here is a small alabaster bowl in which to mix them. And there is a fine, metal strigil for gently scraping off excess oil. There are two fresh, soft sponges, and a smooth porous stone to use on her skin, and there is this,” he said, lifting the largest jar from the bag. “It is oil scented with gardenia blossoms, for her hair and body after her bath.”

Jeet stared in amazement, and his heart softened. “This must have cost a lot of money?”

“The temple gave me a lot of money for you,” Praxis said with a sad smile. “It is only right that I used some for this.” His look became serious. “You should be Abij-hah, Jeet. I want you to be.” Then his eyes dropped. “I loved you, Jeet, and I never loved anyone. I love you still.” He glanced up at the boy. “I miss you.”

Jeet looked away, and they stood awkwardly for a moment. Then Praxis forced a grin. “As for the money, I will win that back when you are chosen Abij-hah. I am betting on you. After last night, the odds are much more favorable for me.”

Jeet smiled, and Praxis’ grin became genuine. He removed the bag from his shoulder and handed it to Jeet. “The bag is also yours,” he said.

Jeet took it, and carefully slung it over his shoulder. And then on impulse, he hugged his old master.

Praxis hugged him back, squeezing him hard. But when Praxis stifled a sob, he gently pushed Jeet away. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hands and gave the boy a rueful smile. “You have made an old man cry, Jeet-hah,” he said, and then bit his lip as his eyes whelmed with tears. He turned to leave, walked a few feet, but then turned back. “Jeet,” he said, coming back to the boy and drying his eyes once with the back of his hands. He leaned close. “Have you had any dreams?” he asked in a whisper.

“I always have dreams,” Jeet answered, surprised by the question.

“No. Have you had any dreams about you and the Oracle? Any dreams that you are the one?”

Jeet thought about how to answer. “I had a dream that I thought meant that,” he said. “But I must have been wrong. It was only a dream.”

Praxis smiled. “If you dreamed it, it will happen. I will wager a lot of money on you.”

Jeet watched the man walk away, and wished that he shared Praxis’ confidence. He turned and climbed back up the shrine steps.

“Was that your father?” Rufus asked.

Jeet stopped and looked back at Praxis’ vanishing figure. “No,” he said, shaking his head. “My former master.” And then because Rufus was a soldier, Jeet told him, “My family were warriors. My father and brothers, and even my mother, died, fighting to protect my sister and me.”

“How old were you?” Rufus asked.

Jeet shrugged. “It was a long time ago. We were just children.”

“You remember what happened?”

Jeet nodded.

“What became of your sister?”

“The governor bought her,” Jeet replied.

Rufus cocked his head. “Was your sister younger or older?”

“We are twins,” Jeet said.

“I think I know of this girl,” Rufus said. “Two of my sons serve in the governor’s guard, and they have spoken of a girl and the governor’s son.”

Jeet moved closer to Rufus. “What have they said?”

Rufus smiled. “That she is beautiful, even though she is young, and that she is liked by all in the governor’s household… much the way you are liked here.”

Jeet smiled embarrassedly. “I need to go back inside.” He put his hand on Rufus’ arm. “Tell me if you hear more of my sister.”

Rufus nodded. “I will ask my sons to do what they can to look after her.”

Jeet squeezed Rufus’s strong forearm. “You would do that?”

Rufus smiled. “Yes.”

Jeet grinned, happily. “Thank you, Rufus.”

Rufus watched the slender, almost naked boy head back inside, his narrow breechcloth swinging in back from between his bare buttocks like a long tail. He could easily believe it, he thought. He could believe the boy was the son of warriors, of chiefs. Jeet was a strong one.

And then Rufus frowned.

The priests will not want a strong Abij-hah. No one had ever said anything, but Rufus knew that there were others like himself who suspected that the high priests had a hand in the previous Oracle’s untimely death. He wouldn’t put it past Jarus, but it was more believable that Stycus would choose to eliminate not only the Oracle, but the Abij-hah and all her attendants with her death.

It would be a challenge to protect these boys, Rufus mused. Assassins could come in so many ways. He resolved then, there on the front portico of the shrine, that once money began coming back into the shrine coffers, he would hire more guards.

He could make the shrine much more secure with more guards. He could even post guards in places like the private entrance to the shrine from the bathhouse.

+ + + + +

That evening, the high priests stood once more before the Oracle at her table. She sat with her head uncovered; her golden hair down to the middle of her back. For all the strength in her eyes, brow, and the set of her jaw, she could have been an adolescent boy.

A waxing moon had risen over the citadel, and behind the Oracle, out beyond her balcony, the river and the hills opposite were bathed in bright moonlight.

“Now your attendants will bathe you Oracle, and once more you will choose one to lie at the foot of your bed,” Jarus said.

“I will pick one to bathe me,” the Oracle said, defiantly. Her eyes went immediately to Jeet.

He smiled, confidently. Surely this time, she would choose him.

She saw the smile and frowned. Her gaze went to Aruli. “Him,” she said. “The one called Aruli.”

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