Chapter 3 – Steven the Scholar
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.