Ascension in the East: Chapters 5-6

Chapters 3-4

Chapter 5 – Something’s Changed…

When the royal couple arose the next morning, they were greeted once again by the two consorts, Somanass and Sukhumala. The two modified women had breakfast brought up to the royal chambers, a luxurious meal over which the newlyweds chatted about their past lives and the days ahead. Jasmine liked this boy, but alas that was all he was to her. Steven was having the time of his life, moderately surprised they were getting along so well already. They both remarked, that if life were this simple for them, running an empire would be a good life.

It was then that Sukhumala arrived with an ornate tea set. She explained in her stilted english, that this tea, mixed with herbs and mild spirits, would be the first step toward Jasmine and Steven becoming the two gods they were to become. When prompted to explain further, Sukhumala elaborated, that the Empress was to embody a deity that represented caring, maternity, earthen passion, and unrestrained lust. Jasmine had always guessed she would have a large part in recovering the royal line for the country, but didn’t know about that last part. Sukhumala was already continuing, outlining Steven’s deity as one of strength, justice, virility, and pent-up passion and desire. He seemed to understand this in relation to his outfit from the previous night, one the two of them had laughed at in bed. She explained to them that this tea would bring them closer to the axis mundi of the earthen realm, and both Jasmine and Steven looked at each other, joking to themselves how overwrought this formality was.

When they finally had the tea in their hands, Sukhumala bade them to consume it in one swig, and both proceeded to do so, before the room started to spin. The jovial tone turned to one of terror, and Jasmine’s voice slurred, “Whaaat wash inn that?” and before she collapsed into her plate, her world went black.


When Jasmine awoke, she was resting in a lounge chair in the sun, with someone massaging her feet. She thought to herself that this must be heaven, that this warm feeling in her head meant she must have had too many drinks at this lovely resort…

But she opened her eyes. This wasn’t a resort, it was her new home; and as nice as that may be, Jasmine clearly remembered the boozy tea she had consumed without being informed of its strange effects. She was going to have to have a word with Sukhumala if this was how she was escorted to a spa on a regular basis. Jasmine giggled to herself that she wouldn’t put up a fight, but as she chuckled, she felt a strange weight on her chest, and looked down.

Her white silk robe clearly jutted forward, and her masseuse flinched when the young empress sat up in surprise. She quickly left as Jasmine examined first her now-sizeable breasts, then the strange feelings all over.

First of all, when she had sat up, her head felt quite heavy, and when Jasmine reached her hands to her hair, she found an elaborate braid, longer than she had ever had before, which wrapped around her head repeatedly. She wondered to herself how long she had been unconscious, but scolded herself. These must be extensions, she would have had to be asleep for months otherwise. She looked at her hands, which were now finely manicured, and noticed her skin, which had a smoothness she found pleasing but quite unnatural. Glancing aside her new tits under her armpits, the light stubble she had always waxed before ballet rehearsals was completely gone, and similar on her legs.

hair

A hairstyle similar to the one that Jasmine now sported, albeit from quite a bit north.

As she moved her legs, a faint tickling was felt between, and Jasmine grew worried. Somanass appeared with the frightened masseuse, obviously not speaking English as Jasmine demanded to go back to her personal chamber. As she was escorted back through the palace she still found quite maze-like, she reached up to her lips. When she had spoken, her command had not been as confident and clear as she expected, for her lips were quite puffy. Coming to her bathroom mirror, she realized why. In addition to her oversized bust, which no dancer could manage in a professional setting, her lips were quite prominent on her face, which unknown to her had been given a gaudy coat of make-up. She practiced some words to the large mirror and found herself able to still speak clearly, as long as she was careful not to trip over her own mouth. She glanced over at Somanass near the door, ashamed, before remembering the consort’s own modifications and comfort with her naked form her first night here. With a gulp, Jasmine disrobed from her silken robe to reveal her new body.

She looked down to find quite a change. Her formerly slight, athletic curves had been accentuated by the alterations to her breast and behind. Her nipples were pierced with bars that kept small golden floral rings pressed against her areolae, a look Jasmine had always secretly liked, but was now quite unsure of. Her hips now formed the lower part of a becoming hourglass, and Jasmine was not pleased. At this moment she felt that tickle again, and looked southward. Below her strangely smooth mons sprouted a clitoris that she had never seen this engorged. For god’s sake, she could see it herself and she wasn’t even aroused! The base held a similar floral ring, which looked quite firmly attached but not pierced as much as she could tell. When Jasmine looked up from exploring her vagina, her maidservant was standing much, much closer.

nipple

One of Jasmine’s nipple piercings

Before she could scold Somanass for all of these unconsented modifications, the nubile woman’s breasts were pressed up against the naked empress’ back, and her hands were exploring her hips and venturing closer to Jasmine’s exposed clit. She wanted to resist, to back away, but her maiden’s touch felt too good. Within a moment, Jasmine was moaning, eyes closed in response to the light rubbing of her engorged nub.

“Mazesty is getting so close now.” Somanass whispered.

While the maid may have been alluding to some religious transfiguration, Jasmine was only concerned with the unprecedented sensations emanating from her wet pussy. An hour later the empress was strewn across her lavish bed, exhausted, and Somanass was closing the door behind her. Only now, that she was breathing hard and head clearing up, did she remember what her complaints had been. How was she supposed to dance when her sense of balance was all off? Who decreed these surgeries? Who was she to complain to when she was supposed to be the leader of this country?


The day before, Steven had awoken to a similar predicament, but simpler. Where Jasmine had multiple parts of her body changed, the physicians focussed on only one part of the new emperor, his phallus. Before he had gulped down that “tea”, he knew for certain he was all himself, but after waking up, the first thing he now noticed was his firmly erect penis. Steven shuffled a bit under the covers of his large four-poster bed, trying to avoid his morning wood, which felt very tight and uncomfortable being as unaroused a he was. Slowly, in his post-sleep haze, he realized it wasn’t going away, and opened his eyes to look down. What he found there shocked and confused him, and he had to rip back the covers to check. Steven’s member now stood proud at 7 inches, which was definitely new. In addition, his balls looked to have gained some heft, though they still hugged his body. Steven was torn, for although he had always known there was nothing to be proud of in that department, it had been undoubtedly his, had it not?

Timidly, he stroked himself, almost moaning out loud at the ensuing sensation. If he hadn’t been turned on before, he was now. But why had this happened to him? His parents had never told him about such customs of the royal family, and sure he knew about the boob jobs, but enlarging the Emperor’s penis without his consent on the risks! This was too much.

But he stopped. He cared not for some tirade. Steven was a logical person, and the only release logical people crave is a temporary return to something more unhinged, animal. Steven thought about his new wife, their unimpressive first night, how he would make it up to her, and he slowly started to stroke himself. Luckily Sukhumala walked in at that exact moment, planning to rouse her master, but realized that was unnecessary when she saw the young man sitting up in bed, legs splayed out and engorged cock practically calling for attention. Though she could never tell Somanass, she enjoyed the pleasures of a man much more than the admitted eroticism of women. Therefore she needed no encouragement to walk over to the bar by the window sill, pour out some of the thick milky nectar the new emperor was prescribed, and slide seductively to him on the bed.

Steven, of course, had never had a woman such as Sukhumala, with her augmented lips, tits, and ass, look at him in such a way, and when she handed him the cup, he drank it in one take before locking lips with the maidservant. Her expert mouth slipped further and further down, and only then did the nectar get to work. Steven felt, even more than already appropriate, an intense sensitivity in his genitals, an intense need to fuck or be fucked by this gorgeous woman. All inhibitions, self-consciousness, and fear fell away as he needed to get his fix. Of course she was more than happy to oblige, as her lips wrapped around him and sucked.


That night, when Steven was joined in the dining room by his new wife, he realized he was not the only person to have been modified. Jasmine looked as beautiful as ever, but significantly augmented curves now pushed out from her ao dai, set against a face made-up for his attention, framed by an elaborate braid set high on her head. All of this momentarily distracted him from the same intelligent eyes he was slowly getting to know.

“Oh my! You look…”

“Oh just say it. I look absolutely ridiculous.” Jasmine cried. She was stopped short by his wide eyes.

“I was going to say you look beautiful.” Steven truly couldn’t keep his eyes off her, and she blushed.

Steven was happy he had sat down first, for his member now once-again strained against his pants. It still felt alien to him. Now, after ingesting that sweet drink the previous afternoon, it seemed like any slight shift against the fabric of his pants would encourage it to push forth at full attention.

He blushed hard, secretly pressing his engorged penis down against his thigh and trying not to succumb to the urges brought on by this sensation and the gorgeous woman across from him. Meanwhile, Jasmine thought that he must still be nervous. As she shuffled in her seat, she felt a strange emptiness between her legs, accompanied by the tickle she was now growing accustomed to as her sensitive flesh rubbed against the elaborate underwear. Lucky him for not having to go through these strange changes at the behest of who knows who, she thought.

Unknown to both of them, the rich broth now presented to the royal couple featured a special extract not unlike the Emperor’s tincture, specific only to these local rainforests, which would make for a night together very different from their first.

Chapter 6 – Education

As lunchtime approached, Steven’s mind was all of a whirl. Much of it was connected with the previous evening; he was still struggling to believe what had taken place. At dinner he had seen his wife – wife, yes, wife; he was still struggling to mentally comprehend that he was now a married man – for the first time after her “modifications” as the servants termed them. Jasmine had been beautiful to begin with, but when she walked to the table he had been almost bowled over by her new appearance. Her gorgeous face had been enhanced by some clever makeup that made her almost resemble a doll, whilst on her head she sported the most incredible hairstyle that he had ever seen: an enormous coil of plaited hair, decorated with flowers, jewels and ribbons. But it was below her face that most caught his attentions: her previously humble breasts having been transformed into two magnificent orbs that strained beneath the tight silk of her ao dai. They were huge and so inviting! Ok, maybe not so enormous as those of the maids whose breasts were easily each as big as their owner’s head, but impressive nonetheless and perfectly round, like two balls grafted onto her chest. And below that chest, her waist, never thick to begin with, seemed to be narrower whilst her hips splayed out into a full bottom that also similarly strained against the fabric of her costume. She was a vision of female beauty – nay, sexuality – and he could not stop staring at her all throughout the meal whilst his newly-enlarged member could not stop straining against its fabric prison.

And as the meal progressed with the food and drink they imbued, those feelings only grew; both him towards her, but he also noticed Jasmine repeatedly glancing through the table at his aching tool, as if it was made of glass, biting her plumped up lip. Straight after the meal, both elected to retire to their joint chamber, and the moment that they were through the door they threw themselves on each other with a raw, unrestrained, animal lust. Whereas before he had felt somewhat inadequate, now he felt… he didn’t have time to even think what, just he felt and he felt and he felt. When they both finally desisted several hours later, they fell asleep in each other’s arms immediately.

Upon waking, they were at it again, though this time there was a slight difference. In the night, Jasmine has taken out her braid and now her long, long hair splayed out all around her. Steven loved it when she climbed on top of him and the hair covered them both, like their own private shroud, hiding the two lusty lovers away from the watching world, making it secret and all the more special. Perhaps because of this or perhaps not even though they had sated themselves beforehand, over breakfast both were looking at one another again with the same eyes as the night before, desperate for more. When he had been called away to meet a certain “Honoured Chandarith” and was told that Jasmine needed to be elsewhere, he felt devastated.

Honoured Chandarith turned out to be his tutor in the necessary skills and arts of becoming the emperor. His job was to explain to Steven what to do and say and why. And that started with his name. “From now on you shall no longer be Steven but Nguanamthom,” stated the advisor. Since Steven could not even pronounce the word, he asked why and was curtly told that Western names are degenerate and unfitting for Sukhothai people, nevermind royalty, and that Nguanamthom was the name of an ancient monarch of the land. Steven then asked about the changes made to his penis, and it was explained that this was all to do with him becoming an incarnation of Ragaraja. “How can you become a symbol of fertility with a small penis?” Honoured Chandarith had asked him, a question for which Steven could not think of an answer. “But why do I feel so sexually excited now?” he then asked. “Because the deity is already entering your body,” replied his new teacher. As a rationalist, Steven had objections to this answer but he did not voice them. “When I saw Jasmine, I felt that I could hardly control myself,” he continued. “This is to be expected and it is healthy; she is your wife after all, the one with whom the fertility god mates. And also she is beautiful I believe, doubtless more so following her own progressions toward divinity. You – as in the boy that arrived here a few days ago – feel attracted to her – as in the girl who also arrived here a few days ago – and so you have desire, but also Ragaraja who now starts to dwell within you recognises and feels desire for His eternal consort Sowathara and is compelled to mate with her. It is understandable.” In the interest of fully accepting his new role, Steven was instructed to now always wear a royal sheath, if not the finely decorated one he wore on his wedding day.

Following this, the day became more boring and, with only an old man to look at, Steven felt his longings and urges lessen, although whenever he thought fleetingly of either Jasmine or the maids, his tool would stiffen a little in its sheath. Instead of sex, he had to concentrate on making speeches, a major part of the emperor’s role. Honoured Chandarith coached him on how to speak eloquently without his foreign accent, and he spent hour after hour reading texts extolling religious virtues or congratulating people in one way or another. It was dull but necessary and eagerly he looked forward to a little time with his wife (or maids) again.


That wife was now engaged in her own form of education which was far less staid. She had been taken away by her maidservants for some “training” very much connected to her role as an incarnation of Sowathara. They returned her to her bedroom where she was stripped naked again and this time some impressive sex toys were brought out. “A wife’s primary goal in life is make pleasure for husband,” explained Somanass. “Now we teach you how to pleasure!”

This rather excited Jasmine who, ever since she had returned from her modifications, seemed to have acquired a far greater desire for sex and was always thinking about it. However, what the maids had in mind was not what she expected, for instead of pleasuring her love cavern, instead they ordered her to kneel on all fours on the bed and then started to go to work on her bottom hole. Immediately she rebelled but Somanass was quite firm that it was necessary, explaining that noblemen in Sukhothai expected to use both holes and that her rear one thus required training as it was currently too small and tight to accommodate her husband’s new, mighty member. This training involved the insertion of a pink plug into the orifice. It was not large and Sukhumala lubricated both the plug and the hole well with a fragrant oil before teasing it in. Having something inserted in that place was a strange experience for Jasmine, though far more pleasant – once the initial, painful insertion had taken place – than she had expected. After it was in though, the maid started pumping a tiny pump attached to the plug and, to her astonishment, it began to expand inside her. After several pumps, it was declared suitable and the pump was removed leaving the plug in place and now so large inside her, that it was impossible to remove. “But what am I to do?” protested the young empress. “Mazesty, it stays there, always. That is how your hole is getting larger.” Jasmine got up and tried walking about with the plug inside her. She felt full and bloated but at the same time the sensation was quite pleasant, almost a turn-on, and she found her hand straying towards her pierced pleasure nub. “No Mazesty, not you! I will help!” protested Somanass, leading her mistress back to the bed and then lowering her face over Jasmine’s private area.

So the butt plug stayed and was joined by a large pink dildo, even larger, Jasmine thought, than her husband’s new member. This was inserted after Somanass had finished her ministrations and her mistress, still panting from the exertions, was in no position to object. Attached to the dildo was a leather strap that went between her bottom cheeks and then was joined to a similar belt. Once it was inside, she felt so full that it reminded her of when she coupled with her husband following his penis enlargement, for she’d had the same sense of fullness then and enjoyed it immensely. So, the dildo too was to become a permanent feature, an ever-present reminder of her main function in life from now on. As she made her way slowly to the dining room for her evening meal with her husband, conscious of the two plugs filling her inside with every sway of her enhanced hips, Jasmine felt more like a sex object than a real-life girl.


That night, after their initial bout of lovemaking, the royal couple exchanged stories of each other’s days. Steven was fascinated by her wife’s plugs whilst Jasmine thought what he had had to endure sounded far less fun. However, the following day she discovered that making speeches was to be an important part of her role too and most of the day was spent repeating phrases and full speeches in Sukhothai, a language that Jasmine barely spoke at all (in sharp contrast to Steven who had been brought up with it being spoken in the house). However, the task was made even more difficult by another addition to her wardrobe: a tight corset! Sukhumala explained that noble Sukhothai women all had their breasts, bottoms and lips augmented as had both the maids and their mistress, but in addition to this a tiny waist was deemed to be desirable as a symbol of sexual attractiveness and also of the fact that Sukhothai noble ladies are not required to work. Jasmine’s corset was a short one that finished underneath her ballooning breasts. It was made of white silk but boned to such an extent that it stayed rigid even when not being worn. When it was laced onto her she found it pleasantly supportive, then tight, then really tight and constraining and then so tight that it made her feel dizzy and she ordered the maid to stop. This order was ignored until a few more tugs later, when Jasmine felt herself floating away, the laces were finally tied. Sukhumala announced with disdain that it was still two inches from closing, making her waist a “broad” 24 inches. So it was, that as she repeated ad nauseum thankyous and bridge opening speeches in a language that she barely spoke, she had not only the tingling on her clit and nipples caused by the rings, and the feeling of the plugs in her two holes, but also a restrictive and crushing corset to cope with. That said, that evening as she went for dinner, the look on Steven’s face when he saw her new look almost made it worth it, and that night he could not keep his hands off her tiny and rock hard waist as he rammed his member into her front hole.

Whilst Jasmine had been learning speeches, Steven had spent the day being taught by the Honorable Chandarith about the empire that he was to rule. He learnt all about the different provinces, the current issues with the Muslim separatists in Sumatra who had caused the deaths of all the royal family a few weeks before, and then also about the different social classes in Sukhothai.

It transpired that there are four classes or castes in Sukhothai society and that how they live is very strictly regimented. At the bottom is the Sudra caste, which basically consists of the working classes; whilst above them are the Wesia, the merchants and businesspeople. Above the Wesia are two more, parallel castes, the Brahmana who are the priests and religious, and the Satria who are the nobility from which the royal family are drawn. The Honorable Chandarith – who was a Brahmana – explained that one of the easiest ways to tell them apart was how the females of each caste appeared. Sudra females did not enhance or modify their bodies at all, this being against Sukhothai law, whilst Wesia women were allowed – although many could not afford to – increase the size of their breasts to a maximum of 1000ml and augment their lips. With the Brahmana and the Satria however, things were quite different. Brahmana women, due to their immense piety, stayed covered at all times, only showing themselves to their husbands. In contrast the Satria women modified themselves extensively. It was considered a disgrace for a Satria woman to have breasts smaller than her head and all of them also enhanced their buttocks and facial features too as well as other areas. Steven now understood why Jasmine had been kept so hidden since even now she still did not reach normal Satria standards, and he suspected she may be having more mods to come. But what of the men, he wondered? The Honorable Chandarith then went on to explain that, since it would be inappropriate for a Satria male to have a smaller penis than a Wesia or Sudra, all had the same enlargement operation that he had undergone and this was why their costumes with the elaborate penis sheaths were designed thus: they emphasised the virility of the wearer.

This made some degree of sense to Steven, although it didn’t help him with his problem which was, namely, the penis sheath. You see, the decorated sheath was slightly larger than his member, even when erect (which was quite often these days), so when he was sexually excited, the penis would stiffen and brush against the silken lining, but, since the sheath itself was rigid, there was nothing that he could do to relieve the tension and so during his long and boring speech-making sessions, if his mind happened to wander towards a mental image of Jasmine or one of the maids, the tension became unbearable and it would be some time before his member would calm down again. Slowly he was beginning to realise that not everything about being an emperor would be so easy.

Chapters 7-8

Ascension in the East: Chapters 3-4

Chapters 1-2

Chapter 3 – Steven the Scholar

steven

Steven Sohtireak

Eight hours after Jasmine had been travelling into Manchester for her audition into the English National Ballet, over five thousand miles away in LA, sitting on a different train, was another young student. Steven Sohtireak was a full two years younger than the pretty ballerina but equally stressed since he was facing one of his major school exams. One of the brightest in the entire school, his dream was to attend an Ivy League College, Princeton perhaps, or Yale, but to do that he had to pass these finals. He’d been studying for weeks, cramming knowledge into his head in the hope that it would stay there and achieve him the grades that he so desired. Even so, unlike the English girl, he did notice the headline concerning the Sukhothai Emperor and picked up the discarded newspaper in disbelief.

“The entire royal family murdered in one enormous blast,” he repeated to himself inaudibly as he read the shocking words. He wondered if his parents had heard. Like Jasmine he was of Sukhothai heritage but unlike her, whose family lineage had been mixed with non-Sukhothai  blood, he was aware of it completely since his family still adhered to Sukhothai customs and values. This was massive! Although he had never taken an interest in them, he knew that the Emperor and Empress were treated almost like gods over there. In fact, one could even say that they were seen as gods, for in the temple their photos were on display with incense burning before them. Not that Steven had ever been remotely religious – he was too rational for such things – but nonetheless, he knew how culture mattered. “I wonder what repercussions this shall have?” he said to himself, soon to realize.

When the seventeen-year old got to his school he found himself being ushered into the principal’s office rather than the exam hall. A quarter of an hour later, he was on the move again, this time in an official Sukhothai limousine with blacked-out windows.

Steven arrived in the capital like his bride to be although, unlike her, he was not hidden in a shroud although, when he did greet the cheering masses, he did wear some very loose robes. Then he was ushered into a helicopter and whisked away out of the city and over the fields and mountains to the same temple-like palace where he was shown to his room and greeted by the same huge-breasted maidservants who had, only two hours before, just put his fiancee to bed. They bowed low before him also, their mammoth mammaries pressing against the rug, and introduced as his future wife’s maidservants although having a task to serve him whenever she was unable to fulfil her duties. No further explanation was given and they left, much to his disappointment, since he had been most charmed by both their pretty faces and their unmissable chests and buttocks, which the ao dais that they wore showed off to maximum advantage.

The fact is that Steven was extremely inexperienced with women. Indeed, to be totally honest, one could almost say that he had no experience with the fairer sex at all. Around four years ago he had started noticing them, feeling attracted to them for some reason and found his still-undeveloped penis growing hard when he caught a glimpse of the shapely legs of Jenny Bailey or the heaving chest of Heidi Peterson in his class at school. At home in his bed at night he had even found his penis growing hard when he thought of such things and around the age of fourteen he had first discovered the joys of masturbation. But whilst he was now noticing the ladies, alas, they were not noticing him. In an Orange County school full of tanned and muscled athletes who looked like extras on Baywatch, who spent their days chilling out on the beach or riding up and down the boulevards in their sports cars, which girl would notice the geeky asian kid with glasses who excels at Maths and Physics but struggles to come anything but last in a run around the school field. The fact is, Steven was weedy, nerdy and way too clever for most girls, and so he was ignored by them. That is until today when two stunning girls, who looked like stars from a Hong Kong porno, had bowed at his feet and offered to serve him. It was enough to set any teenage boy’s heart on fire and fill his mind with fantasies and, after he had bathed and been dressed by a far less alluring servant, in his bed his dick was standing proud it’s full three and a half inches and raging with desire and he could hardly wait until he was left alone to massage it to completion. Once he had though, in the post-orgasmic bliss, he lay and wondered about the situation that he now found himself. From an American schoolboy to the monarch of one of the greatest political powers on earth, living in an enormous palace with huge-breasted maidens dedicating themselves to his service and… and tomorrow he would be getting married.

That situation both excited and scared Steven. He had never even met this girl and knew nothing about her save that she was also of Sukhothai descent and that they shared the same great-grandfather. Apart from that all he had been told was that she was English, that her blood was “slightly polluted” (whatever the hell that meant), that she was two years older than him, and that she was a ballet dancer. He weighed up the facts. That she was English was good: at least they would be able to talk. But would she be pretty or ugly? The fact that she was a ballet dancer meant that she must be athletic, but would they get on? And what would it be like in bed? Steven balked a bit at the responsibility to restore an entire royal family at 17. He had never even properly kissed a girl, let alone lost his virginity, yet she… maybe as a ballet dancer she had had lots of lovers and was very experienced. Would she look down on him with disdain due to his youth and inexperience? Would he be able to satisfy her? What if her last boyfriend had been some black male lead in the ballet with an enormous penis whereas he… well, he knew from the school changing rooms that his tool was not impressive. Would it be heaven or would it be disaster? He lay in the dark worrying for some time but then the image of the two big-titted maids came back into his mind and his penis grew hard again. Within minutes he was milking it for a second time but after that, exhausted by the day’s events, he fell into a deep, untroubled sleep.

Chapter 4 – Wedding Bells

Early in the morning, the bride-to-be was woken from her slumbers by the soft hands of Somanass stroking her cheek. She awoke lazily and let the maidservant bathe her and then prepare her for what is supposed to be the biggest day in a girl’s life. As she dressed, Somanass explained that Sukhumala was busy preparing her future husband.

The preparations were not extensive, which disappointed Jasmine a little since she thought that the wedding of an emperor and empress-to-be would be a huge event. However, according to Somanass, the ceremony would be an intimate and low-key affair since she was not yet the manifestation of Sowathara and the groom not yet Ragaraja. Telling her maid that she did not comprehend what she was talking about, Somanass said to her that it would all be explained fully in due course but, basically, traditional Sukhothai beliefs stated that the Emperor was a manifestation of the fertility god Ragaraja whilst the Empress was an incarnation of the earth goddess Sowathara and that only when her transformation into the goddess had been fully completed could she be shown in public, which was why she had worn the shroud when visiting Angkor the day before. Jasmine asked how the goddess could be completed but her maid bade her to leave the topic for later since it would take a lot of explaining, and Jasmine realised that it must involve a lot of intricate – and extremely boring – religious ceremonies and rituals.

Her wedding dress was an ao dai of red and white silk, finely embroidered and worn over some of the finest underwear that she had ever seen. Jasmine loved how the ao dai looked on her, accentuating her meagre curves and giving her an elegant and regal appearance. The only problem was the collar which was extremely tight and high although Somanass assured her that that was how all Sukhothai girls wore them. On her feet were high-heeled shoes and over her exposed hands, gloves of leather that were so tight that they had to be put on wet and then dried, shrinking the leather so that she could hardly feel or move her hands. Then, over these came another place of tight-fitting gloves, this time embroidered and made of white silk. Finally they turned their attentions to her head and whilst Somanass applied a very thick layer of make-up, a hairdresser was brought in to wash, dry and then braid her hair becomingly before decorating it with flowers. Then, given a bouquet to hold between her gloved hands, she was led down to the ceremony.


When Steven saw his fiancee at the altar of the temple where the bald-headed monk recited the ceremony, he could not believe his eyes. She was so beautiful! Sukhothai girls he found attractive anyway, but the slight Western element to her looks made her more so. He even preferred her to the big-titted maids who had so excited him the night before, although he did notice his eyes straying to her humble bosom and perhaps wishing it was slightly larger. He thanked fate inwardly for placing in his path such a lovely bride and hoped that she didn’t find him too young and bookish.

When Jasmine saw her fiance at the altar of the temple, she was surprised by how young he was. He was only a boy, quite weedy and dorky looking. She had always picked boys who were older than her – and mostly Westerners too – and this one would never have registered on her radar. But at the same time, as the bald priest droned on and on, she noticed that his face was kind and, perhaps with a few years, he could develop into quite a handsome chap – in a Sukhothai kind of way.

His face was not the only thing that she noticed either. Indeed, far more she found her eyes drawn towards the lewd and protruding rod sticking up between his legs, standing proud for a good ten inches or so.

When Steven had seen the wedding costume, he had struggled to believe his eyes. Most of it had been normal enough, embroidered silken robes like something out of a corny kung fu movie, but one thing stood out, literally: the underwear.

This was what appeared to be a normal pair of underpants, expensively made and embroidered, except that, at the front, a large solid rod stuck out almost like an erect penis, except that it was covered in yellow silk and embossed with jewels, including a very suggestive milky white pearl on the tip. One other thing differentiated it from a real penis as well: the size, easily ten inches long. His tiny and flaccid member was stuffed inside this prominent rod and Steven found, to his delight and then later, frustration, that the inside was also lined with silk which both titillated him yet could not bring him to any satisfactory conclusion. Once the full outfit was on, the rod poked through the folds, standing like a rampant penis for all to see. “It symbolises your future status as an incarnation of the fertility god Ragaraja,” said the maidservant in explanation. That as may be but as he walked about and it bounced up and down lewdly, Steven could not help but feel self-conscious and embarrassed.


There were only a few people present at the wedding ceremony. As well as the priest and the two maidservants, there were a couple of high-ranking generals, the Prime Minister and leaders of the four main religious communities in the Empire. All congratulated the happy couple warmly and were present at the small dinner afterwards where some toasts were made. Then, instead of a party, the maidservants led the newlyweds to their chamber into which they were locked in to consumate the marriage. Steven was, naturally, very nervous, but Jasmine took the lead and when they were both naked led her husband to the bed. The sex that followed was short-lived but marvellous for Steven, although for Jasmine she was left largely unsatisfied. Unlike her husband, this was not her first time; she had had two serious boyfriends before in her life and several liaisons, all with men who knew what they were doing and with somewhat larger packages to offer. However, as they lay in the bed afterwards, the two youngsters got to know one another a little, swapped their stories and impressions of Sukhothai life thus far whilst discussing their concerns for the future. “We shall have immense power over the lives of millions,” said Jasmine, “how shall we know to make the right decisions?”

“I was worried about the same thing myself,” said Steven. “I wish to be a good emperor – and a good husband to you – but I fear my inexperience will let me down. All I know is books and studying.”

“And all I know is ballet,” added she.

Then, her husband said something most unexpected. “Jasmine, I know this might sound silly, and forgive me if it does, but could you do me a great honour?”

“What is that?”

“Dance for me. I’d like to see you practise what you love most.”

Such kind and touching words made her eyes well-up a little with tears and she kissed him on the lips before getting up and there, in that huge bedroom, dancing the part of Giselle after she has risen from her tomb to comfort her lover Hilarion. Steven was transfixed by her grace and beauty, his eyes shining and when she had finished he rushed over to her, grabbed her in his arms and together they fell on the bed entwined, as happy as any married couple on earth. They may have hardly known each other, but Jasmine was thankful she had been gifted such a considerate young man as a partner in her new life.

Chapters 5-6

 

Ascension in the East: Chapters 1-2

Ascension in the East

Copyright © 2017, Dave Potter and Cafter Homme

Foreword

This story is set in the Sukhothai Empire, a fictional South-East Asian country, based roughly on Thailand in 2030. Sukhothai was once a real, albeit small kingdom in our world and, in this imaginary alternative, it resisted the influence of the Burmese and Ayutthaya Kingdom in the 1400s, and allied with and much later took over the dying Khmer Empire, allowing for a slowly growing presence over the next 600 years, much like China annexed other small kingdoms early on (and more recently Tibet). The 1900s brought constitutional rule, leaving the royalty as figureheads, and the nobility has heightened their reliance on decorum ever since. Currently, this country is locked in a long-term economic rivalry with the People’s Republic of China, and to a lesser degree, the Second Japanese Empire.

In Sukhothai, ladies show their status by modifications. Poor ladies are not allowed to modify their bodies, the middle class only moderately, the aristocrats far more so, whilst for the royal family the modifications are nothing short of extreme and ridiculous.

This story centres around two unsuspecting foreign teens who by an extraordinary twist of fate, become the next Emperor and Empress of Sukhothai.

This is the second story that Cafter and I have written together.

Dave Potter

Chapter 1 – Jasmine the Dancer

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Jasmine Nguyen

On the 21st November, 2029, Jasmine Nguyen rode the Manchester-bound train, and didn’t notice the headline in the Metro newspaper that was lying discarded on the seat next to her. With the benefit of hindsight, she perhaps should have picked up the tattered rag and read the tale behind the shocking ‘Sukhothai Emperor Assassinated in Deadly Blast’. Not that it would have changed anything if she had, but since that seemingly unimportant piece of news was to change her life irrevocably, then, well, poetically at least, she should have cared just a little.

But she didn’t because that day her mind was totally focussed on what was coming up. Her audition for the English National Ballet in the prestigious Bridgewater Hall. Get in to that esteemed company, and her career as a prima ballerina would surely skyrocket! Fail and the direction would be quite the opposite. How was she to know that, as the old saying goes, it would be a case of winning the battle but losing the war. Yes, she got in, with flying colours in fact, but only a month down the line and she would be out again, and her life taking a very different career trajectory. All due to that “Deadly Blast” that never even registered in her brain.

A month later she was travelling on another train. This one though, was headed to London. Accompanying her was a policeman. She didn’t know why she was going there except that it was a top secret matter of national security. Like what could a ballerina of only nineteen years of age ever have to do with national security? Whatever the case, they’d knocked on her door the night before and ordered her straight to the capital the next day. “What about rehearsals?” she’d protested. “We’ve spoken with the company already,” was all that she received by way of a reply.

Once in London, they were met at the gates of Euston station by a black limousine bearing the flag of the Sukhothai Empire and then whisked through the city streets to the opulent Sukhothai Embassy in South Kensington. Once there, she was ushered into a room and told something that she never ever expected to hear. The two men who met her were quite opposites. The Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs sat beside her, a moderately boorish man, and the slim, decorated ambassador sat across a grand desk, and quickly summarized, “My dear, you are the closest living relative of the Emperor of Sukhothai. The terrorist plot you may have heard about didn’t just murder the Emperor, but nearly all the high-ranking royal family. So we have been searching for a month to find the closest viable line of the royal family. We’ve actually been looking for you, Jasmine.”

This was a whirlwind. Jasmine’s thoughts were all jumbled. This was impossible! The ambassador proceeded, “Of course I’m sure your grandparents kept your true lineage from your whole family when they moved to England, for royal families that fear persecution have a history of changing their names to Nguyen. This is not an ideal situation but we will have to make do.”

Jasmine couldn’t take this. “How do you even know I’m the right person!? I’m just a dancer from Manchester, I don’t know the first thing about royalty or leading a country I’ve never been to! What about my career here? What if I just refuse?”

The two men glanced at each other, then the cabinet minister wiped his brow and spoke slowly, harshly, “Jasmine, I don’t think you understand the gravity of this attack. The Sukhothai Empire is the largest pacific power besides China, and the markets are already destabilized from a month of searching for you. In the interest of international diplomacy, your citizenship has already been revoked by the Crown. I’m sorry but you couldn’t stay here if you wanted to.” and, as if to insult the poor girl, “I’m sure you can be a dancer when you’re not bringing stability and leadership to nearly 300 million people.”

Jasmine tried to negotiate further but it was no use. By three days later her tiny flat was empty and she was on a private flight to her new Empire.

Chapter 2 – Arrival in Sukhothai

Jasmine knew enough about the Empire of Sukhothai to understand that the empress was to be revered, almost fanatically by the country’s masses through some specific brand of Buddhism. Jasmine had been too busy with dance in school to remember more, and as she racked her brain, she couldn’t remember her grandparents mentioning anything about their past life. She had nothing to prepare her for her future.

When they landed in Angkor, the capital, a massive crowd was waiting behind barricades on the tarmac. On seeing this, her attendants swore to themselves in a language Jasmine did not speak, then dashed around. Jasmine was still clothed in exercise tights and a pink long-sleeved top. Not fit for royalty. One of the men came up to her, “my Queen, you are not ready for the crowds, and I’m afraid they are not ready for you.” He looked her up and down with a look of… was that disdain?

After much struggling, she stepped out of the private jet covered in what amounted to some Muslim cloak. She couldn’t see a damn thing for her eyes were covered with some dark lacy fabric. When the crowds saw their new empress, for only the royal family wears such a deep crimson silk, they cheered in unison.

Jasmine didn’t wave to her new subjects, actually she couldn’t. The attendants, informed that she was ignorant to their customs, had bound her arms behind her and fitted a gag in her mouth. A wave of the hand or a single utterance, they told her, could be disastrous; it would break centuries of tradition.

No, instead she was led silently past the crowds to the waiting black limousine. Security was tight, and before and after her ran black SUVs to escort the empress far away from the capital to her mountain residence.

The drive was long, hour after hour firstly through the suburbs of Angkor, then past flat rice paddies and then, as the ground began to rise, through ever thickening jungle. Eventually, around five hours after they had set off, the car pulled up outside the Summer Palace.

It looked more like a temple though than a palace. With ornate golden roofs decorated with flowers and intricately carved columns, she half-expected a party of bald monks to be praying inside. Instead though, after walking through a vast hall, she was shown to what was described as her quarters and, rather than a monastery, these resembled more a five-star resort with king – or should that be empress? – sized bed, en-suite bathroom with jacuzzi and sauna, sofas and a huge balcony overlooking a gorgeous mountain valley. Waiting in her room were two women whose appearance rather shocked her. They were both around her age, exquisite Sukhothai beauties with raven hair and almond eyes. They were dressed in the traditional ao dai, the elegant national costume, a tight-fitting silk tunic worn over pants. These ao dai had high stiff collars and fitted tightly around the wearer’s upper torsos, emphasizing their bust and curves before becoming looser and floaty further down. However, it was their busts and curves that Jasmine could not take her eyes off, for whilst Sukhothai women are not generally well-endowed, these two women both sported a pair of enormous and perfectly circular breasts that were obviously not natural, whilst their bottoms too looked suspiciously large and peachy to be wholly God-given. Although their dresses covered their entire bodies, they hid nothing and were really quite provocative.

“Your Majesty, may I present Somanass and Sukhumala, your personal maidservants. They have been specifically selected for the role and will attend to your every need,” one of her attendants announced.

The two girls got on their knees and bowed towards their new mistress, their heads touching the floor and their enormous breasts getting squashed against the carpet.

At this the other attendants and servants left the room, closing the door behind them and Somanass said in lilting accented English, “Please, Mazesty, let us undress you and give you bathing.”

Slowly both girls stripped Jasmine of her clothes and encumbrances and then led her to the bathroom where a steaming bath awaited. They guided her in and then removed their own dresses till they were also naked, climbing in afterward – there was plenty of room as the bath could easily hold ten people – Sukhumala sponging and soaping her tired body whilst Somanass washed her hair and massaged her scalp. Jasmine closed her eyes and revelled in the luxury, thinking that life as an empress might not be that bad after all. The two maids left her alone for some minutes and then returned, still naked, carrying thick fluffy towels.

As they towelled her dry, Jasmine could not take her eyes off their unnatural breasts which maintained their shape and did not sag even without a bra. They were massive! Each breast easily as big as the head of the girl that bore it and she wondered what strain it must put on their backs. Unable to stem her curiosity, she said to Somanass, “I cannot believe your breasts! Surely they are not natural?”

“Of course not, Your Mazesty. We have both only had them done in past month when we knew you would be coming.”

“You had them done for me?!”

“Do they please you, Mazesty?”

“Well, yes, I mean…”

But before she could answer properly, the girl had taken her hands and was guiding them over the globes of flesh which were taut and firm. And, whilst she did that, her partner had knelt under her and started stroking Jasmine’s most private parts.

“Sukhumala! What are you doing?”

“Mazesty, like we said, we are here for every need. That includes sexual! You must be frustrated and tired after long journey. Let us relax you…”

And before she knew it she was being led to the huge bed by the two maidservants, lain out on it and whilst one rubbed her massive melons against the English girl’s modest A-cups, the other had placed her face over her mistress’s vagina and was busy working away at it with her tongue.

And despite the fact that she had never before had any lesbian inclinations in her life, she was in bliss and was pulling one of the monster tits towards her face and sucking on the nipple like a baby before shuddering to a climax like none other that she had ever experienced before in her sexual life only moments later.

“And now you sleep, Mazesty,” said Sukhumala, tucking her in. “You need to be fresh and ready for the ceremony tomorrow.”

“What ceremony is that Sukhi?” Jasmine asked dreamily.

“Why Mazesty, your wedding of course.”

Chapters 3-4