Part Six: Eucalyptus
The next day Lord Phanomyong met with his Generals all day, and even the delight of planning his strategy, and the anticipation of the glory of battle, could not keep his mind off the Chosen One. That night as his Generals dispersed throughout the land, he ate alone, for he knew if he saw the boy he would not be able to resist spending the evening with him, and he needed his rest. After his repast, he lay down, and he twisted and turned, not because of the impending invasion, but because all the Favourite Son of the Great God Xiu could think about was a young boy with butterscotch-coloured skin and almond-shaped eyes and a small wicker basket of oils.
Finally, in the dark of night, he arouse, and after sending his personal attendant on an errand of the utmost secrecy and waiting for his return, he mounted his steed and headed south with his most trusted followers. He and his men rode hard until the sun broke, and spent the daylight in hiding at the home of a loyal and trusted noble. As he lay down to rest that morning, he took out the object he had sent his attendant to obtain, a simple, unwashed, white thong, and holding it to his nose, he lay down, and fell asleep. That afternoon he exercised in the courtyard. It had been many years since he had ridden into battle and he practised long and hard, and the exercise was exhausting. However, as soon as the sun had set, the warrior-lord and his trusted men mounted and travelled south until the sun broke in the morning, at which time they sought refuge in the home of another trusted follower. The mighty warrior-lord fell asleep the moment he lay down, a white thong held close to his face.
Travelling by night or in small unassuming groups by day, seven days later the army of Lord Phanomyong gathered along the southern border where slabs of stone engraved with the eye of the tiger marked the boundary between the two lands. Lord Phanomyong was a wise and experienced warrior, and he knew that might or right did not always win battles, but stealth did. When the army was assembled, Lord Phanomyong gave the signal, and the army of the Land of the Tiger Eye invaded the Principality of Mythar. They marched across the land, a wave of fierce warriors from the north invading village after village where they captured the men, but they neither slaughtered them nor amused themselves with them, but rather, they bound them and took everyone who had ever engaged in the ceremony of Khawrianphukta, the ritual that marked the Age of Coming, back across the border into the Land of the Tiger Eye. The homes and crops they neither pillaged nor burned, and the women and children they did not ravage, though the oldest boy of those who had not reached the Age of Coming in each village was blindfolded and taken north, where he was allowed to see the welfare of the fathers and brothers and grandfathers of the village. He was then sent back to his village along with the oldest boy of the other villages to assure those who had been left behind that their loved ones were safe.
As Lord Phanomyong penetrated deeper into the southern Principality, he became aware of the beauty of the dark-skinned boys of the southern land. Their skin was as dark as that of the jaguar that inhabited their land, and even the palms of their hands and the soles of their feet were darker than that of any peoples he had ever seen. It being a hot land, even hotter than the Land of the Tiger Eye, they often went about naked, even those who were past the Age of Coming, but boys of that age had never interested the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle other than as ornaments for foreign dignitaries to admire.
Despite the unique appearance of the dark skinned, preadolescent boys, and even though they exhibited those characteristics of young boys before the Age of Coming that boys exhibited everywhere and that he so admired, Lord Boroma Phanomyong, Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu, Fierce Tiger of the Jungle, Defender of the People, and Master Over all That Is, Was, and Will Be did not claim one to accompany him in his tent at night despite the temptation. To release one's seed, whether it be through the services of a boy or a woman, while engaged in battle was taboo for all men, even the ruler of the land, for it is well known when a man is at war, engaging in sex of any nature would rob him of his strength and vitality and would dull his mind and his senses. There were those who disobeyed the command, but the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle was not one of them, and those who did, seldom survived the war.
Besides, there was another rule, one that applied only to the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu, and that was that as long as there was a Chosen One at Chiangmai, he would never touch another boy in any other way than to caress his cheek or his buttocks in admiration. There were times in the past when he'd been tempted to change that rule, for as the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu he could make and discontinue any rule he wished, but he had always resisted the temptation. On this campaign, the uniqueness of the boys and the pain of being away from the Chosen One made the temptation all the more difficult to resist, especially upon seeing a particularly attractive boy. He may have been the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu, but he was, after all, also a man.
He did resist, however, with the help of that special possession he had sent his personal attendant to obtain. Each night he lay down in his tent and took out that small white thong that he carried with him always and that after all those days still carried the scent of the butterscotch-skinned boy back in Chiangmai. His prayers to the gods to look favourably on this campaign also included a request to look favourably upon the boy he'd left behind, and though some might find it strange that he did not include his wife nor any of his concubines nor any of his sons by either in a similar request, to question so would reveal one knows nothing of the way of the Lord of the Land of the Tiger Eye nor of its people. A man could have many wives, concubines, or sons, but the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu could only have one Chosen One.
Finally at Laotsung the army of Saotuathaa, Prince of Mythar, and the army of Lord Phanomyong, Lord of the Land of the Tiger Eye, met. Many were killed on both sides, but the army of the Land of the Tiger Eye was buoyed up by the villages they had conquered and was driven hard by the Generals by order of Lord Phanomyong, and was victorious. That night Lord Phanomyong rejoiced, for although the battle had only begun, that day the destiny of the war had been determined. The old and wise warrior knew that who had drawn first blood would be passed from mouth to ear and spread across the land. While that news would encourage his men, it would spread fear throughout his enemy.
And so it came to pass, and though the battle was fierce, and both sides suffered the deaths of many good men, before the moon had passed through one full cycle the army of Mythar had been defeated, and choosing death as more honourable than defeat, Prince Saotuathaa fell upon his sword before he could be captured.
Having no descendants, rule of Mythar reverted to the cousin of the late Prince, who found no dishonour in accepting the offer to rule over the land in the name of Lord Boroma Phanomyong, Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu, Fierce Tiger of the Jungle, Defender of the People, and Master Over all That Is, Was, and Will Be, for he would never have become a ruler had the natural order of things had been allowed to play out, and so the Principality of Mythar became the great province of Mythar, one of many great provinces in the Land of the Tiger Eye. The men of the villages who had been captured returned to their villages, delighted to find them standing, and their loved ones unharmed, and they paid homage to their new Lord, for life for the common man under Lord Phanomyong was really not much different from life under the late Prince Saotuathaa.
And so Lord Phanomyong headed back to Chiangmai, rising before the sun and riding until it disappeared below the horizon each day, and though there were those who would claim he missed the Land of the Tiger Eye, and others who would claim he missed his wife or this or that concubine, those who knew their Lord, knew whom he missed, and that was a slight young boy with dark black hair, skin the colour of butterscotch, and large, dark brown, almond-shaped eyes.
Although it was evening when he arrived at his palace, and he was tired and sore, he went directly to his bedchamber and sent for the Chosen One, who arrived in an open khaki-coloured vest and khaki-coloured pants as if he were a soldier in the Lord's army, and carried with him his wicker basket.
"My Lord," he greeted, bowing low and respectfully, as one would expect, but when he looked up there was a smile of affection and in his eyes the look of one who had greatly missed the other.
"I see you have brought your basket of magic balms," the Lord said with a whimsical smile, but he too could not hide his joy at seeing the Chosen One after all these days.
"The magic is that the gods have returned you safely to Chiangmai, my Lord," the boy replied respectfully as he bowed his head.
"Well, it will take magic to make me forget the aches and pains of this old body," the warrior- lord replied. "You would not by chance really be an old magician in the guise of a boy, would you?"
"I am but your humble servant," the boy responded with a boyish giggle, his dark brown eyes sparkling with merriment. "I am nothing more than your Chosen One, selected to bring you pleasure. But I do have, my Lord, an oil and a massage that the brother of my mother has told me can sooth the muscles and the mind."
"And would you have me, the Favoured Son of the Great God Xiu and the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle who has caused the death of a Prince and obtained the wealth of a mighty principality, lay on my back and allow my limbs to be bound to my bed, or to assume the position of the fish by your command?" Lord Phanomyong asked with a smile.
"For this massage, my Lord, I would tie you to your bed in a prone position," the boy said with all the seriousness that only a young boy can express.
Lord Phanomyong laughed with such a bellow that the guard at the door started. "Come then," he announced, "but if we are to please me this night, let us warriors remove our clothing, and let us cleanse this body and this throat of the dust of the road first." Calling for a bowl of warm water and a wash cloth and for rice wine for himself and coconut milk for the boy, the warrior-lord tossed off his travel clothes while the boy stepped out of the uniform the elderly woman who had become his teacher and his servant had chosen for him.
So Lord Phanomyong took out a mat and sat lotus style on the floor while the Chosen One wet the cloth and wiped the dust of the road from his master's body and the master drank the rice wine and the Chosen One drank his coconut milk. The warrior-lord then lie on the bed on his stomach, and the boy tied his wrists and his ankles to the four corner posts of the bed, though this time loosely. He then opened his wicker basket and took out one of the brown earthenware jars and opened it. Although he could not see it, Lord Phanomyong knew what the oil was as the sharp, camphoric odour of the oil of eucalyptus assaulted his nose and caused his eyes to water.
Pouring a small amount of the oil in his palm and rubbing his palms together, the boy knelt on the bed beside his Lord and began to massage his right hand, wrapping his fingers around each digit and pulling on it as a farm lad might milk a goat. He continued on, massaging the tendons and chords along the back of his hand, and then firmly kneading and massaging his forearms and biceps of both arms. The boy had noticed his Lord had lost some of his underarm fat, and that his arm muscles were much more solid than the last time he had massaged them.
He continued on to the warrior-lord's shoulders, and the man sighed as the boy worked the knots and tenseness out of his muscles. With an expertise that no concubine could begin to meet, the boy prodded and caressed, kneaded and squeezed, and worked the oil into his master's cramped muscles, and slowly the stiffness and weariness disappeared. The large bruises on his hips, and the deeper cuts to his legs the boy was careful to avoid, knowing the eucalyptus would only further irritate them. Gradually the Lord began to feel relaxed, and gradually his stiffness and pain disappeared. The way he had felt earlier that evening as he'd ridden into Chiangmai, he would never have imagined it possible.
He also began to feel the stirring of arousal in his loins, and although he had wished such a thing would happen, he hadn't for a moment thought it would really be possible after such a long and strenuous ride. The deftness of the boy's fingers as he touched first one and then another pleasure zone caused Lord Phanomyong to marvel at his skill and caused ripples of erotic pleasure to caress his body. Slipping his hand between his Lord's outspread legs, the boy found his swelling member and pulled it back so that pointed toward his feet as it would in its usual position, it peaked out from beneath the warrior-lord's large nut sack.
The boy's oiled hands ran over his master's buttocks, kneading them as a woman might knead two lumps of dough, and caressing them as a man might caress the breasts of his concubine. Gradually the stiffness from hours of sitting in the saddle faded and was replaced by a ticklish arousal that resulted in a welcome stiffness elsewhere. The boy continued down to massage his Lord's thighs, easing the strain of straddling his warhorse from sunrise to sunset, and causing ripples of arousal to speed along the Sen from his Lord's thighs to his member, which began to throb with desire. He continued on, massaging his master's calves and his feet and easing their soreness from supporting his weight and the weight of his armour.
The boy's slight fingers danced along the backs of his master's sensitive inner thighs, barely touching them and causing his swollen member to quiver and ooze out the first droplet of pre- cum. Lord Phanomyong had not engaged in sex since leaving Chiangmai, not even with the most beautiful of the women who were willing to thank their new Lord for his compassion in not taking the lives of their fathers or brothers. And, as tempted as he was, he did not sample the dark black boys of the villages he passed through on the way home, not even when the elders had heard of his particular delight in the bedchamber and had offered the choicest boys in the village in thanks for not ravaging their woman or pillaging their crops.
So after long abstinence his one-eyed cobra was quick to spit its clear venom. The boy reached down and with his first finger he spread that clear droplet over the reddish-purple plum of his master. Feeling the boy's fingertip gently spreading his clear offering over his knob, the warrior- lord responded by producing more, which the boy spread further over his master's reddish-purple plum. The feel of his sticky juice on the head of his cock, the pressure of the boy's finger, and the sharp bite of the eucalyptus oil, like the bite of a winter storm, was highly erotic. Lord Phanomyong's breathing grew heavier as the stimulation of his glans rippled down one of the shortest of his Sen to trigger a response in his swelling nuts. He closed his eyes and concentrated on that stimulation, willing himself to ejaculate. As he felt the need increasing in his loins, he concentrated all the harder.
Closer and closer he felt himself approaching that point as the boy continued to run a single fingertip over his exposed glans. Deeper and deeper his breathing became as the tension built up in his loins and he was sure this time that he was going to ejaculate. Suddenly the boy's forefinger jabbed at the base of his nut sack and he groaned loudly as the urge to shoot out his seed was thwarted. He tried to shake loose of the boy's finger but no matter how he twisted or raised his hips in the air and crashed them back down on the bed, the boy's first finger remained pressing down on the spot as if it was attached to his body.
His desire having faded away, he concentrated on the massage of his buttocks as the boy ran his fingertips lightly over his backside once again. Within a short time, he found himself rapidly approaching that point of ejaculation once more. His long period of abstinence had heightened his sensitivity, making the pleasure of his erection and the approach of his orgasm all the more intense. Figuring the boy would be surprised at his quick recovery, he very slowly and carefully began to rock his body while the boy massaged his buttocks and his back. He concentrated on the pleasure of his throbbing cock pinned under his body and protruding between his legs rubbing against the satin sheets of his bed, and memories of hours of such pleasure during his teenage years heightened his pleasure.
As he approached his climax once again, he smiled at his deviousness, but then a man who could out strategy a neighbouring Prince should be able to out strategy a mere boy who had not yet reached the Age of Coming. Slowly he rocked his body to and fro as best he could under the restraints of his bonds, pressing his stiff member against the smooth sheets. In its pinned position, he pushed it toward his feet as he thrust his hips down and then dragged it back as he drew his hips forward, the boy dutifully massaging his buttocks as he gyrated his hips and unaware of his intention. Closer and closer he approached until he inhaled sharply, and drove his body downward only to feel the sudden pressure of the boy's finger below his swollen pomegranates once more. He wanted to scream as his body was racked with his second dry orgasm so soon after the first. He wanted to scream with the pleasure of his orgasm, and he wanted to scream angrily because of the pleasure denied him. He arched his body and gritted his teeth with the sweet pain, made all the more torturous but the unexpected thwarting of his plan, and made all the more powerful riding on the waves of his first dry orgasm.
"Did my Lord find pleasure in this evening?" the boy asked sometime later with a whisper, his warm breath blowing in his master's ear.
"The Chosen One has done what he said he would, and has done it well," Lord Phanomyong replied with a sigh. "Untie me and lay here with me, so I may feel your smooth body curled up in front of mine, and I swear in the name of the Great God Xiu, I shall make no attempt to take your virginity."
And so the boy untied him, and curled up in the curvature of his body, and drifted off to sleep, for he knew his Lord was a man who kept his word. In the early morning, that time of day when the sprites and tricksters of field and hearth are about while good and honest men sleep their deepest sleep, Lord Phanomyong awoke, and feeling the need to pass water, he slipped from the bed, and taking his chamber pot, relieved himself in a corner so as not to awaken the boy. As he was about to lie down again, he spotted the boy's wicker basket beside the bed, and curious, he crouched down and raised the lid.
It was an action he questioned at the last second, but it was too late. Glancing at the contents of the tiny basket, he quickly closed the lid, regretting his actions even though what he had seen was not something that came as a surprise. The boy's wicker basket could only contain so many jars of oils, and the pleasures he was providing had to come to an end at some time. It was the physical confirmation, the reality of seeing the jars lined up in the basket, that forced the Fierce Tiger of the Jungle to accept the reality of his situation. Inside in two neat rows, were six small earthenware jars. That left only two they had not yet sampled.
Next: Part Seven: Peppermint