Ascension in the East: Chapters 1-2

Ascension in the East

Copyright © 2017, Dave Potter and Cafter Homme


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


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

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