Chapter 7 – The Seeding Ceremony
Some weeks after his entry into the palace, after the evening meal when he had stared at his wife longingly, excited by the bedtime activities to come, Steven had found, to his dismay, that instead of being allowed in their joint chamber, he was led by Sukhumala to the one that he occupied alone on those nights when Jasmine was unwell or menstruating, when the buxom maid pleasured him instead with her mouth. This confused the boy somewhat since Jasmine had only had her period the week before.
He was bathed by the maid and then, to his astonishment, his royal sheath replaced before a silken nightgown – with an opening for the mighty rod to extend out from – was smoothed over his head and he was lain in bed. Sukhumala climbed in on top of him and he wondered if this was some new sexual game of hers, a suspicion only enhanced when she took out two padded gloves, like balls of leather, which she fastened his hands into and then locked at the wrists with a small padlock leaving him absolutely helpless. She then attached a chain to one of the mitts so he could not leave his bed making him a prisoner to her lust. After this she rubbed her massive tits in his face, causing his member to stiffen even more in its prison before then engaging in a long and passionate bout of French kissing. “Free me! Free me now!” he screamed when he finally extracted her tongue from his mouth, but to his amazement, she only smiled at him, pecked him on the forehead and said, “Sorry Mazesty, but I cannot. Today you sleep separately from queen because tomorrow you have important seeding ceremony. Every full moon is seeding ceremony and so you must have your balls full of your seed too much so the ceremony can be auspicious.”
And with no more explanation than that, she left him alone on the bed.
In her chamber, Jasmine was having a far better time and receiving more in the way of information. She was just recovering from multiple orgasms caused by Somanass licking her modified love cavern expertly with her pierced tongue and the two girls were now lying in the bed together recovering their breath. Jasmine had asked why she was not with her husband that night and the maidservant had explained that they had to lie apart the night prior to the seeding ceremony, an ancient ritual that takes place every full moon.
Apparently, the seeding ceremony is the way that the religious and political elders of the empire foretold the future and the prospects for the country in the coming month. Political and economic decisions were made based on its result and upon a seeding the fate of billions of dollars or the lives of thousands could hinge. It was, as with so much of their current roles, a position of great responsibility and gravity. Somanass then went on to say that usually the seeding ceremonies are very public, taking place in the foremost temple in Angkor and being beamed across the empire live on national TV but, since both she and Steven were not yet fully incarnations of the god and his consort, then this ceremony would take place in private in the temple in the palace, although, as it was to be the first seeding following the national disaster, people were anxious as to what might be foretold. “But what do I have to do?” she had asked her maid and lover. “Nothing, Mazesty, nothing at all. The emperor is doing everything. All you must do is kneel there, your hands prayer, staying absolutely still and smiling.”
The next morning both royals were woken early and breakfasted alone. To Steven’s anger and dismay, neither his sheath nor the mitts were removed and instead Sukhumala spoonfed him like a baby. His penis was now positively aching with pain, desperate for relief inside its prison. Since arriving in the palace and since his modifications, he had become accustomed to receiving release every four hours or so, often more and now, with twenty-four hours without coming, he was struggling to focus on anything else, particularly with the alluring personage of Sukhumala brushing her huge tits and behind against him coquettishly, and kissing him on the forehead after every bit of his breakfast. His balls, accustomed – and he suspected, drugged – to produce far more sperm than usual, were now taut and bluish from the seed that they had collected inside them.
After breakfast he was dressed in fine robes befitting the gravity of the ceremony. The mitts stayed on but these were hidden by silken covers and then linked behind his back by a small golden chain. Finally a new and more elaborate sheath cover was fitted over the protruding rod and thus ready, he was led out to the temple.
He entered to find Jasmine already there, wearing an elaborate gown and hairstyle, kneeling on the floor, her hands in prayer before her enlarged breasts, smiling serenely. By her side was Somanass. Also present were the Prime Minister, two senior generals, the Head Priest for the empire and a very pretty young girl of around sixteen who sported large fake breasts which marked her out as a member of the noble class. She was introduced not by her name but merely her position: the Shrine Maiden of the Royal Temple in Angkor, a virgin who lives as a nun for a month in the shrine until the seeding, after which she returns to her family and is married off. Indeed, it was the very fact that she was locked in the temple and unable to attend noble functions that saved her from the massacre the month before.
A gong sounded and some unseen monks in the gallery started chanting the sutras. Steven was walked forward by the pretty shrine maiden until he was stood before his wife. Then, the shrine maiden took the royal sheath in her gloved hands and removed it to reveal his aching and rock hard member to the company. She then started to stroke it with her gloved hands, working them up and down the shaft bringing him to a peak within seconds upon which he erupted, the masses of stored seed spurting out and covering the face of his queen who stayed still, merely closing her eyes and continuing to smile and pray. The shrine maiden continued to milk him until the very last of the seed was spent and then licked the royal member clean with her tongue before replacing the sheath, bowing and withdrawing. Steven also withdrew a couple of steps but then the priest and a couple of sages came and began examining Jasmine’s semen-drenched face, taking photographs and making notes. Steven and Jasmine later learnt that what they were doing was reading the semen much as a gypsy might read tea leaves, a form of divination. Where it had spurted, the quantity, the viscosity and so on was all analysed using ancient texts to determine what the fate of the empire would be until the next full moon. For Steven though, all he felt was a blessed relief, whilst for Jasmine, as she explained to him in bed that night, she felt degraded and longed to wipe it off but had been warned that that could have horrendous consequences for the empire’s future. So, it had stayed there and she had stayed kneeling for over an hour until finally, when it was dry and crusted, she was led off to a shower by her maids.
Equally worrying for her was the fact that Steven had actually found the whole experience rather erotic, and now wanted to re-enact the seeding ceremony in their bed so as to perfect his technique, and so it was that it was more than once that day – and many more in the future – that she found her face covered in the spent seed of her eager young husband.
Chapter 8 – More Changes
And so it was that Jasmine and Steven continued with their lives as emperor and empress-to-be of Sukhothai. At times it made Jasmine sad, particularly when she tried to dance and her new and larger breasts and bottom got in the way and made her movements a little ungainly, but Steven still said she moved beautifully anyway which was some consolation.
The fact was, of course, that Steven was head-over-heels in love with this beautiful and caring wife that fortune had thrown in his path. The sex was incredible, but after that, when they lay together and talked, he found her intelligent and compassionate and it was at times like that that he almost started to believe all the superstitious bullshit that the Honorable Chandarith and the maids came out with about them being incarnations of two eternal consorts.
For her part though, Jasmine did not love her husband. She liked him, she found him sharp and wise and also very caring, but he was more like a kid brother that wanted looking after than a man whom she could spend the rest of her life with. She had always preferred older men who took the lead, yet in their relationship he was very much the junior partner and this did not satisfy her.
Nonetheless, two things did help her to cope with it all. The first was the sex which, now that Steven had a much larger penis and a modicum of experience, was much better than before. Furthermore, her own desire seemed to have grown and she found herself fantasising about his tool during the day.
But it was the second factor that helped her much more. Steven alone could not satisfy her, but Steven was not her only lover these days and, despite the fact that she had never had a sapphic thought in her head before coming to Sukhothai, she immensely enjoyed her time with the two top-heavy maidservants, in particular Somanass who seemed to be more interested in her own sex than Sukhamala. Lying with a woman, feeling an expert tongue on her pierced and hyper-sensitive clit and running her hands over the taut obs whilst their mouths explored one another intimately, each knowing instinctively how to pleasure her partner, it was a joy she had never dreamed of, yet now enjoyed beyond all measure. And it was pleasures like these and being filled with Steven’s eager tool that made the lack of dancing and personal freedoms, if not enjoyable, bearable for the empress-to-be.
But just as it seemed that both of their lives had fixed themselves into a steady routine, they found themselves one morning after breakfast being guided towards the tea ceremony pavilion and each being handed a cup of the green brew by the high priest. And even though both realised what this would mean, and felt more than a degree of trepidation when doing so, they took it and drank and, for the second time in as many months, their worlds went black and they faded into a drugged sleep.
Jasmine and Steven stood stock still looking at each other once he walked in, the first time in their marital chamber since their second round of modifications with whom Honourable Chandarith called the Brahmanan body artists. They were both more than a little stunned, for neither of them knew how long they had been under with these physicians they never met. Steven was truly shocked at what he saw, the woman he loved proceeding ever-closer to her Empire’s ideals.
Her face was the most radical change, as the sacred physicians had made Jasmine look all at once less Western and more unreal. Any doll-like aspect of her previous changes had been amplified. Her nose and eyes had been given a thorough reworking, leaving her with nearly a button nose, and eyes that retained their epicanthic fold, but seemed absolutely wide-open. Her irises and pupils seemed bright and dilated, leaving her with doe-eyed look that reminded Steven of the various anime he used to watch in his spare time. Steven could not read her face very well, for where there was once a shrewd gaze, now lay a blank yet oddly inviting expression. A nervous smile showed only on her lips, leaving Steven to guess that she had also received some numbing botox to enable her innocent-yet-sultry visage.
Further down, it looked like her neck had been slightly lengthened somehow, but knowing the Sukhothai’s inclusion of the Kayan tradition of neck rings, it was more likely an adjustment of her collar-bones downward. She seemed more refined yet delicate with her head held high, but the delicacy was to be had below, as her neck led down to her now enormous breasts, now rivalling those of Somanass and Sukhumala. These ballooned outward with little attempt at being natural, and her tight ao dai, reaching all the way up her neck and down to the floor, only made the difference between these and her waist more apparent, not only to him but his aching member. Her waist itself had been modified somehow, for her corset looked to have finally closed. This imposed a more extreme hourglass figure, starting at her over-round hips, and now her shallow breaths were forcing her breasts to rise and fall with a certain desperation, straining against the fabric.
Across the room, Jasmine wondered how much her carnal hunger was showing on her new face. When she had woken up earlier that day, she had been helped by an unnamed attendant to her feet, and had been forced to quickly overlook the restrictions imposed by her new bodily form when she gazed upon her face. A shockingly trite little note from the Honourable Chandarith (in Sukhothai of course, always a lesson from him) had summarized her new holy modifications, and the restrictions she would have to abide by due to her now large mammaries and ass. The note went further on to explain that her eyes were permanently open like this, fake eyelashes fluttering over her blank expression whenever she blinked. When she attempted to grimace or smile, it only showed on her mouth and cheeks, and perhaps a bit on her brow. Her large, richly-coloured irises were apparently the result of lasered-in contacts, and Jasmine was thankful her vision was still 20/20 as far as she could tell. On top of it all, her nose was now slimmer, upturned a bit to give her a cutesy look and, along with the miniscule waist and makeup her dancer friends would have called quite leading — and in private, absolutely whorish — the addition of eyes and a nose like this made her look like some living cartoon!
But as she stood there questioning her willingness in all of this, trying to massage her lengthened neck, which was a little difficult to move, there was something else. A need. Something deeper than whatever desire she had previously had for Somanass’ tongue or Steven’s cock before that damned tea ceremony. She could hardly think straight, desiring something, anything, to fill the emptiness inside of her, between her legs. It didn’t help that her clit had been extended again, quite lewdly in fact. She dared not put on underwear in fear of her erect protrusion rubbing against the fabric torturously, and even now as she stood in front of him, she was naked beneath her dress. But nothing mattered now that Jasmine saw Steven, in his casual regalia, including a newly enlarged penis sheath. Yes, her plugs had been increased in size far above Steven pre-op, and she had assumed to herself, but even now as they stretched her to accomodate him, she felt no release. Actually, if she hadn’t been wrapped in the dress and pants of the pink ao dai, her naked thighs would have revealed her dripping desire to him.
Of course she had tried to relieve herself earlier, as Somanass was nowhere to be found, but the orgasmic release had merely left her wanting more, and she was very worried she would never again get true mental peace. Checking twice over, there was no mention of this ceaseless desire in the Honourable’s note, and that afternoon she cried out in desperation at her life of seeming luxury. What were they doing to me? she thought. But no, there was still hope. Whatever they had done to her brain, or her cunt, it was too hard to fight, she had to make her last attempt at inner solace and satisfy Sowathara inside. So she walked as briskly to Steven as her ao dai would allow, and when their lips met they shed their fineries like tissue paper.
Of course Steven was already hard, but that was becoming more often the norm every time he drank that sweet milky syrup. The difference was, when Jasmine desperately fumbled at the hip straps to release the silken tube and finally ripped it off, underneath awaiting her was a monster. Steven’s cock had been altered, extended again to a foreboding 11 inches, and its girth was now formidable as well. Underneath, his large testes were clasped by a gold cuff, making them hang below, and Steven knew from the strain and fullness he would need release very soon. He could have used Sukhumala’s mouth sometime in the last two days, but the Emperor’s favourite had been nowhere to be found. Though not any less embarrassed, Steven now saw the reason for the sheath, for he couldn’t have stuffed his third lower appendage in his pants if he tried. Deep down he honestly thought he looked ridiculous, and even his spare time spent in his private gym over the last few weeks before the tea ceremony had not made his body look like a suitable host to this bulging rod. Jasmine of course was delighted, and within moments they were on the bed, her begging him in Sukhothai to give her everything he had.
And they fucked.
It was a pleasant surprise to both of them that Steven’s refractory period was now almost non-existent and, for the first time in hours, Jasmine could think clearly again, not hounded by that need for him inside her. She thought to herself that she was glad Steven had her, for it seemed only her daily dildo-stretched box could accept him in full, but hours later, after they were done with their feverish passions, this thought quickly gave way to doubt. Why was she stretching herself for this boy? What had happened to her face, her body? How long would she have until she needed her husband’s cock in her like that again? Would Somanass be able to satisfy her like that? This last question made her thighs grind against her permanently-swollen clit, and she felt the first insidious signs of the itch come back to her.