Date: Tue, 30 Dec 2003 17:51:05 -0700
From: Dream Spinner <authorsix@hotmail.com>
Subject: "The Chosen One From Nongkhai: Part Four: Bergamot" (m/b)

                      Part Four: Bergamot

The following morning Lord Phanomyong met with his senior ministers to
discuss the dry business of governing, something which the former warrior
found difficult to concentrate on at the best of times. After the previous
night with the Chosen One, he found it was impossible to think of anything
else other than the beauty of the young boy, and the intense and unusual
pleasure he had brought him. Many times his First Minister had to bring his
attention back to matters on hand, and Lord Phanomyong finally left matters
in the hands of his First Minister and left the meeting.

That afternoon, although suffering from indigestion, he received several
nobles from the far western reaches of the Land of the Tiger Eye. Scented
candles and packets of dried flower petals and spices placed around his
throne masked his flatulence, and the presence of the Chosen One helped to
distract the nobles so they did not notice his growing discomfort.  As he
noted the admiration in their eyes as they gazed upon the boy, he wondered
what they would say if they knew the slight boy had tied their Lord to the
bed posts the night before and had made him cry out with such desire as a
virgin maiden might the first time her husband introduced her to the joys
of that one-eyed serpent that nested under the robes of all men.

He left the Chosen One to eat in his room that night while he took counsel
with his physician regarding his illness. The ancient prescribed an enema
and rest, but the Lord chose instead the company of his Chosen One. Despite
his discomfort, he had been thinking of nothing else all day other than
spending the evening with the boy. Last night had been most satisfying, and
if the boy's simple massage could result in such pleasure, then the taking
of the boy's virginity would be exquisite, possibly the most exquisite
experience of his life. So great was his lust for the boy, and his desire
for the ultimate erotic experience, that taking the boy's virginity that
night was what he fully intended on doing despite his illness.

Once again the boy arrived clothed only in his white thong and four new
multicoloured scarves and carrying his wicker basket. Motioning for the boy
to approach the bed upon which he was sitting, the warrior-lord looked
longingly at the near naked boy and reached out and ran his fingers through
the boy's fine, thick hair. Fresh and clean and as dark as a moonless
night, it was appropriate on him just as having the Chosen One before him
shaved bald was appropriate for him. A stomach cramp suddenly seized him
and as he winced he broke wind with a loud, odorous crack.

"My Lord is still not well?" the boy asked with concern.

"No," Lord Phanomyong responded, collapsing on his back and running a hand
over his expansive stomach.

Lifting himself up onto the massive bed, the boy knelt beside his master
and untied the wide sash of his robe. Gently opening the silk garment, he
exposed his master's broad chest and bulging stomach. He ran a small, hot
hand over the expansive stomach, and the fresh, clean smell of the boy and
the feel of his hot hand on his flesh replaced the warrior-lord's
discomfort with desire, as the great Lord had hoped it might.

"With my Lord's permission, I can help," the boy said softy.

"There is only one pleasure that can make me forget this discomfort," Lord
Phanomyong replied, reaching out and running his hand over the boy's soft
cheek. His stomach rumbled and he passed wind a second time. Despite the
foulness, the boy, already well advised in the ways of a catamite by the
old woman assigned to look after his needs, gave no indication of having
noticed.

"There is that," the boy said simply, looking directly into his master's
eyes with neither eagerness nor fear but only the resolve of one who has
accepted the inevitable. "But there is another."

"Then you have my permission to proceed," his master said with an indulgent
smile, "but do not think that relieving me of my discomfort absolves you of
the duty you have been chosen to perform."

"My Lord," the Chosen One replied, bowing his head in respect, "I would
never deny my Lord the pleasure for which I have been chosen. But," he
continued with the same wide, innocent eyes and coquettish smile as the
night before, "if a boy could relieve the discomfort of his master, and
provide his master pleasure like he has never felt before besides, pleasure
that would make slipping his sword into the boy's sheaf the lesser
pleasure, can that be a wicked thing?"

Lord Phanomyong laughed at the question that again could have but one
possible answer. "If the pleasure is like nothing I have ever before
experienced, Chosen One, then I swear I shall leave the joy of sinking my
shaft up your young, virgin portal for another night.  But if you fail, you
will bend over and accept your destiny."

"That I would do eagerly, my Lord, for such is not only my sworn duty, but
my ardent desire," the boy replied, as he had the night before, and like
the night before, the sincerity and humility in his voice was reflected in
his eyes, and Lord Phanomyong knew the boy had spoken the truth. He turned
the vials of the chronometer over and lay back down on his back.

The boy removed the first of his silk scarves and reached out for his
master's thick wrist, and again the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle humoured the
boy and allowed himself to be tied to the bedposts for a second
time. Opening his wicker basket, the boy removed a brown earthenware jar
and unstoppering it, he poured a small amount of the pale orange oil in his
left palm and rubbed his palms together. Lord Phanomyong recognized
immediately the sharp aroma of bergamot, that pear-shaped orange that grew
in the southernmost reaches of his land.

Kneeling up on the bed beside his supine master, the boy ran his oiled
hands over his master's firm, swollen stomach. The skin on his bloated
stomach was as tight as the skin on a drum. He rubbed it gently at first,
and then with gradually increasing pressure as he felt the man's tight
stomach begin to relax. In time he was massaging and gently kneading the
man's stomach as a housewife might knead a lump of dough, for the two were
of the same resilience. He gathered up the rolls of fat so that the
expansive stomach appeared pleated, and then spread them back out.  He
palpitated the firm flesh above the man's groin, and buried his fingers in
the pale white folds of fat as he worked up toward the man's chest. Lord
Phanomyong inhaled the sharp orange- scented air and as time passed, the
tightness and the cramps in his stomach disappeared.

"My Lord is very tense tonight," the boy observed as he oiled his hands a
second time.

"Yes, I imagine I am," his master responded as the boy continued to massage
his fat stomach. "I have not felt well all day, and I have some
unpleasantness to deal with tomorrow."

"Unpleasantness?" the boy asked.

"Yes. Thieves and highwaymen have been plaguing the trade route to Prabang,
and the merchants have been demanding protection."

As he thought about the reports that had been coming in, and the meeting he
had scheduled with the merchants the following morning, a meeting he was
not looking forward to because he could not provide the protection they
wanted, he closed his eyes and sighed. It was not easy being a ruler. His
mind wandered from what he would tell the merchants to the warmth and
pleasure now passing through his stomach as the young boy massaged and
rolled his rolls of fat, and then back to how he would handle the
meeting. More and more his mind lingered on the pleasure the Chosen One was
providing.

The boy had deftly broken the crystals of tension in his stomach by working
across it with his thumb just as he had worked his feet the night
before. Now gently running his fingertips over his master's stomach, he
located the Sen running through it, and by stimulating first one and then
another, he caused energy to penetrate deep through the fatty tissue to his
Lord's intestines where it dissipated the building gases, allowing them to
flow back up the energy lines to the external points on his Lord's skin
known to the practitioners of several of the oriental arts of massage and
of medicine.  Lord Phanomyong could feel the tension rising up out of his
body and evaporating into the air as does the water in a lily pond on a hot
summer day and he sighed deeply.

Pouring a bit more of the citrus oil over the fingers of his left hand and
rubbing the front pads of his fingers together, the boy reached out for his
master once again, but this time, not for the man's stomach. Gently taking
the warrior-lord's limp member in his right hand, and cupping his testicles
in the other, he slowly and carefully fondled the man's privates.  Holding
the flaccid member by the base, he tugged on the growing tube of flesh as
he gently rolled his master's eggs in their loose sack with the fingers of
his other hand, coating both with the citrus oil.

His warm, lubricated fingers slowly pulled back the skin of his master's
member, exposing the man's bulb-like glans. Forming a "U" shape with his
thumb and fingers, he gently held the man's glans by the rim and slowly
rotated his wrist. The warrior-lord squirmed with the pleasure that
immediately rippled around the rim of his glans, and his cock began
swelling more quickly. As the boy slowly rotated his wrist in the other
direction and continued to roll the man's swelling eggs in their sack, he
stared down at his hands with the seriousness and concentration of a
student whose skills were being examined by a master.

As Lord Phanomyong felt his cock growing erect in the boy's warm, oiled
hands, he also became aware of the need to pass water, which would mean he
would have to be untied, but he did not want to interrupt the pleasure the
boy's fingers were bringing and the need was mild so he decided to ignore
it. He noticed that once again three of the eight vials had already
emptied, and that also once again the slender boy's brief thong was tented
out, his tiny reed having stretched out the thin fabric and pulled it away
from his body. The boy was deriving pleasure out of pleasing him, and the
warrior-lord took as much joy out of that as he did out of the touch of the
boy's fingers.

The boy began to stroke his now erect member earnestly, and the pleasure
pulsating through his rigid flesh replaced the urge to urinate, which with
his full erection, would have been difficult anyway. The boy's fingers
deftly stroked his solid shaft from base to glans, just barely touching
it. Lord Phanomyong inhaled deeply, his lungs filling with the sharp citric
fragrance of bergamot, his indigestion and his anxiety having been replaced
by erotic pleasure. The boy worked miracles, but considering his fondness
for boys, that was no surprise. The knob of his cock burned warmly. If it
were not strictly forbidden to present a catamite in the line of choosing,
he would have suspected the young boy had been trained from birth to be of
service to men.  However, with the threat of putting the head of the
village and the family to death and burning the village to the ground, it
was unlikely that anyone would dare try to break that rule.

Lord Phanomyong inhaled deeply as his loins trembled with his approaching
climax and he constricted and relaxed the sphincter of his urethra. Somehow
sensing the approach of his Lord's orgasm, the boy grasped his engorged
cock just below the knob and squeezed tightly, an old trick the elders
taught the initiates at the Coming of Age ceremony to subdue a man's desire
and prolong his pleasure. The sands of time trickled from the top of the
fourth vial to the bottom silently as the young boy sat there motionlessly,
waiting for the man's lust to subside.

When it had, he resumed stroking the stiff, irritated organ, now pumping
his fist up and down the thick shaft and being careful not to touch the
sensitized rim of the man's glans nor push his foreskin up over it. The
thick, solid tube throbbed hotly in his small hand, and the need to quell
his desire arose much more quickly. The first clear droplet of pre-cum
oozed out of the one-eyed snake, but like the night before, the boy chose
to ignore the flow of that sweet nectar. As he continued to slowly stroke
the shaft of the man's swollen member, more of the clear nectar oozed out
of his slit, and the warrior-lord thrust his hips upward in his desire to
cum. The boy immediately ceased the rhythmic pumping of his fist and once
again squeezed the pulsating member below the glans as tight as he could
until once again the desire to cum subsided.

Lord Phanomyong's breathing was laboured now as the boy resumed teasing his
stiff cock, and knowing the boy's intent, he lay back and concentrated on
the thrills of pleasure that were running through his plum and along the
Sen of his cock and on the ache deep in his loins. It was a strange
pairing, that sweet pleasure and pain, the one aching for the boy to
continue and the other aching for the boy to stop. As he approached his
climax for a third time, he wanted the building tension deep in his groin
to continue building forever, and at the same time he wanted to ejaculate
and end the pressure. Pleasure and pain combined for that brief time, both
sweet, both excruciating. Then, at that last moment, the boy again choked
his snake, and the two sensations slowly faded. Looking over at the
chronometer, he saw that the fifth vial had emptied.

Three times he had approached that peak of orgasm in the past hour. Could
he withstand another two? That had to be the Chosen One's intent. Again the
boy oiled his fingers, and Lord Phanomyong sucked in the sharp citric scent
of bergamot as the boy once more grasped his still hard cock and began to
stroke it. The warrior-lord closed his eyes and concentrated again on the
rhythm, on the gradually increasing pleasure and then the commencement of
that sweet pain of anticipation until the pleasure and pain became one, the
crescendo building to the point of climax only to be cut off at the last
instant.

The Lord, knowing what to expect, vowed not to call out like a young bride
on her wedding night as he had the evening before, but when he reached the
fifth peak and his body trembled and ached for the expected release only to
have the boy relieve the pressure still again without allowing him to
climax, he groaned loudly with disappointment and surprise.  This time he
was given no time to recuperate, and the desires had not yet subsided when
the boy began to vigorously pump his lust engorged cock once more. As he
felt himself approaching an orgasm for the sixth time, he confessed to the
boy that he had succeeded, that this night was better than the night
before, which it was, his confession not being just because if he did not
come this time his eggs would explode. Between gasps of ecstasy and pain he
praised the boy for his skill, and in a voice that was not quite begging,
told him to let him cum, but as the night before, the boy had become deaf
and dumb, and instead of bringing his master off, he released his aching
snake.

Lord Phanomyong cried out in frustration as his thick, member jerked in the
air wildly and ached as if it had been stretched on the rack, which he now
threatened to do to the boy if he did not immediately grasp his member and
bring him off.  He pulled on his silk bonds and thrust his hips into the
air and crashed his backside back down on the bed. He closed his pig-like
eyes and gritted his teeth as he focussed his mind on his withering snake
and willed it to spit out his seed, but all he could do was vent his anger.

For the seventh time the boy grasped his master's organ, now aching as if
being pierced by fine needles and now a brilliant red with its veins
extended and the glans so engorged it looked like a ripe plum about to
burst. The boy stroked relentlessly and his Lord groaned and called out,
first with pleasure and then with pain, and the scarves about his wrists
and ankles were pulled so tight they began to cut off the circulation to
his hands and feet. Closer and closer he approached that point again, and
Lord Phanomyong did not know if he should order the boy to bring him off or
to pray to the mighty god Xiu.

He held his breath as they approached his climax for that seventh time, and
he squeezed his eyes shut as the pressure in his loins doubled with each
stroke and he expected to feel the ultimate pleasure of the release of his
seed any moment. His mind focussed on his groin and as he felt his seed
about to shoot up his shaft he thrust his hips in the air just as the boy
pressed his first finger against the pressure point under his pomegranates
where the thick cord runs between his legs.  With a mighty cry of pure
ecstasy and with anguished dismay, the warrior-Lord froze with his hips
thrust upward as high as he could raise them and his body trembled finally
with his orgasm.  His swollen cock throbbed like a pulsating heart ripped
from an opponent's chest and he constricted the sphincter muscles of his
anus and his penis as he tried desperately to release his seed.

His breathing was laboured as if he had just fought and conquered a mighty
enemy and he strained against his bonds. As he collapsed back on the bed he
grunted and panted and his massive stomach rose and fell as he rapidly
opened and closed his penile sphincter in a desperate attempt to ejaculate,
but the pressure of the tip of the boy's finger at the base of his
pomegranates stemmed the flow of his juice. His numb cock had never felt
more swollen than it did at that moment. He trembled with the pleasure of
his dynamic orgasm which had flowed along his Sen from his abused cock
throughout his body. Never had he felt such pleasure, and never had he felt
so drained.

Laying down beside his master, the boy snuggled close to him and stretching
one arm across his massive body, he rested his head on the man's
chest. Reaching down and slipping his fingers under his thong, he slowly
and gently fondled his swollen reed. Once again six of the eight vials of
sand had drained, and once again the warrior-lord lay there on his back
recovering while the sand in the seventh vial flowed through the narrow
neck to fill the bottom section. Once again the rice wine and coconut milk
and salted nuts and sweet chocolate lay untouched on the mahogany
table. The boy's head slowly rose and fell as the man's breathing gradually
returned to normal.  At long last the boy raised himself on one elbow and
looked at his master with those dark brown, innocent eyes.

"Have I pleased my master?" he asked softly.

"Yes," sighed the bound man.

"More than the last time?"

"Yes," he said with a smile.

Having brought with him a sharped bamboo shoot, the boy proceeded to loosen
the knots of the silk scarves, and untie his master before retiring to his
own bed.

Next: Part Five: Ginger