Stories Ascension in the East
Emily Nguyen is a ballet dancer in Manchester. When the entire Sukhothai royal family is wiped out in a terrorist attack she doesn’t even notice. She perhaps should. As the next in line to the throne of the Sukhothai Empire, that attack will change her life beyond all imagining…
The second story by myself and Dave Potter.
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 how dynastic China annexed many small kingdoms early on. 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 we have collaborated on.
— Dave Potter and Cafter Homme
Chapter 1
On the 21st November, 2029, Jasmine Nguyen rode the Manchester-bound train, and failed to notice the headline of 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 line, ‘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 on that day her mind was totally focused 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 she would be out again, and her life would be 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 directly 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 promptly whisked through the city streets to the opulent Sukhothai Embassy in South Kensington. Once there, Jasmine 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, I’m sorry for the confusion and secrecy, but… but 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 behind China, and the markets are destabilized as it is 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
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 city, 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 remotely clothing 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 soon-to-be Empress far away from the capital to her mountain residence.
The drive was long, hour-after-hour firstly through the suburbs of metropolitan 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 of 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.
Even 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.”
Chapter 3
Eight hours after Jasmine had been travelling into Manchester for her audition into the English National Ballet, over five thousand miles away in Los Angeles, 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
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 consummate 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.
Chapter 5
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.
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.
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 as 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
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.
Chapter 7
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
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 a 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 herself, but even now as they stretched her to accommodate 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.
And 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.
Chapter 9
It was the following morning after they awoke when their two maidservants reappeared in their lives and immediately both Jasmine and Steven realised why they had been absent for so long, for whilst their bodies remained completely unaltered, something major had happened to the faces of both of them or, to be more precise, to their lips.
Of course both Somanass and Sukhumala had sported somewhat puffed up and enlarged lips previously, but these were nothing to what now graced their faces, for where their mouths should have been, instead now were two juicy doughnuts that looked almost designed for fellatio. Upon seeing them, Jasmine exclaimed, “Oh my God, what have they done to you?” whilst secretly thinking how much she would like to experience Somanass’ tongue on her nether regions. Steven’s mind was racing in quite a similar direction, except that it was more about Sukhumala’s new lips wrapped around his huge penis.
“Mathesty,” replied Sukhumala in Sukhothai (for, as part of their training and with Jasmine’s improved command of the national tongue, it had been decided that all staff must only speak to their monarchs in that language now), “thwe are bthlessed to hath our lthips modthified lthike lthis tho we may accomothate the emperor’s royal membther pleathurably.”
“You mean to say,” asked Steven, that aforementioned member standing ramrod straight despite it being only a minute or so since he had erupted into his wife’s generous backside, so hot did he find their new lispy voices, “that you have had your lips pumped up purely so you can suck my penis?!”
“Of courthe, Mathesty,” replied Somanass, “that isth our sthacred duty, parthicularly now that your wife cannot accomodthate you there.”
That comment caused both Steven and Jasmine to blush, for the one drawback to his newly-enlarged member that they had both noticed the night before was that, when Jasmine had tried to take it in her mouth as she had done before, it would no longer fit due to its impressive length and girth. She could pleasure him amply with her front and bottom holes but not her mouth. She simply couldn’t open that wide, and she nearly gagged every time. Later, after breakfast, the Honorable Chandarith explained it all to them.
“As I have said before, you are no longer Steven and Jasmine, you are no longer merely human, but instead Nguanamthom and Sukkisawali, the earthly incarnations of the deities Ragaraja and Somanath and as such, certain things are necessary whilst others are now unacceptable. What is necessary is that your bodies reflect your divine statuses. Sukkisawali: you as a fertile, lusty emblem of femininity, whilst Nguanamthom: you as a virile representation of masculine power, fertility and strength. As such it is only natural that your breasts and hips, Sukkisawali, should be larger than those of any other female in the empire whilst your member, Nguanamthom, mightier than that of any male. But whilst that is the case, it is now unacceptable, considering your divine statuses, that you engage in any penetrative sexual act that can create offspring with any mere humans. That is why your sacred orifices, Sukkisawali, have been stretched and will continue to be stretched: they must be able to accommodate your husband’s tool and be too large for that of another man. However, since a king must have handmaidens to serve him, then the solution is thus: they have their mouths modified to accommodate his tool but not their other holes - indeed, with a man both Somanass and Sukhumala are virgins, did you never wonder why they only ever pleasured you with their mouths or between their beautiful, noble breasts? They exist to pleasure your penis, Nguanamthom, it is one of their primary purposes in life and one that they are overjoyed to fulfil. Their other purpose is, of course, to provide similar pleasure to you, Sukkisawali, using their tongues and hands on your similarly enhanced genitalia. You say that their lips have been plumped up and this is true but it is not the full extent of their oral modifications. Maids, please, do your duty to you future emperor and empress!”
And at that command, the two full-breasted and lipped girls who had been standing dutifully in the background, came over to the royal couple and knelt in front of them. And whilst Sukhumala removed Steven’s sheath and took his rock-hard monster in her mouth, Somanass affixed her lips to the love cavern of her mistress and, within seconds, both royals began to comprehend what else had been done.
The very mouths of the girls seemed to have been refashioned. They were longer and somehow tighter and their tongues had been pierced multiple times with pieces of jewellery which tantalised them and heightened the sexual experience. Their teeth also seemed to have disappeared whilst their over-large lips massaged and caressed the objects of their pleasuring, causing almost a suction, both to his cock and her clit. It was absolutely exquisite, and within minutes Jasmine was dripping, screaming in ecstasy whilst Steven was spurting his load deep into Sukhumala’s throat.
“Note that they have no gag reflex now and extra muscles in the throat,” said the Honorable Chandarith. “They really are two works of art and the honour of being modified in such a way by Brahaman artists is high indeed.
“So… do you… mean to… say,” said Jasmine trying to get her breath back, “that from now on, I shall only be able to have sex with my husband?”
“That is correct, Sukkisawali.”
“But these ladies may pleasure me… us… with their mouths whenever we want.”
“That is their purpose, Sukkisawali.”
“Well, that is… not all bad… then, I suppose.”
But whilst that may not have been all bad, there were certain aspects of her new life which Jasmine began to find really hard to get used to. Her newly enlarged breasts and buttocks stopped her from doing many things and this was most noticeably during her daily exercises. Even simple activities like jogging on a treadmill, skipping or sit-ups had now become nigh on impossible, the enormous globes getting in the way or swinging about with the motion. Instead all she could now manage was exercises completed sitting or lying and most of these were focussed on strengthening her back muscles which bore the brunt of her humongous new tits. The situation was a little similar for Steven too, his rigid tool in its sheath swinging about wildly if he tried anything more than a quick walk. However, for him help was at hand, and for exercises he now wore a special costume which incorporated a different sheath featuring a loop around the end which went over his neck and could be tightened so that, as he ran, the sheath was fixed to his chest. This solved the swinging issue completely but looked, in Steven’s eyes at least, more than a little ridiculous.
Another area though, where both members of the royal couple now found that they had significant problems was when doing their other natural functions. Steven now found that he had great difficulty urinating through his penis due to its continual erection. Although this wasn’t altogether painful, it now required a considerably greater effort to piss since his water would only come out irregularly. Furthermore, due to the fact that, as a royal, he was now meant to let servants do everything for him, he now found that whenever he wanted to use the bathroom, Somanass or Sukhumala was there waiting to hold his member as he drained it and then to suck it clean. This latter method of cleansing himself was all very pleasant, but the presence of a big-titted maid and the knowledge that his aching tool would soon be ensconced between her inviting lips at the very time when he was trying to forget rather than heighten his sexual desires was most trying.
Jasmine however, had it worse here, as with most of the modifications’ side effects. The gradual stretching of her anus and vagina had left her quite unable to hold in her rear wastes, and so the plugs and enemas that were initially performed for other reasons became quite necessary. Her plugs were, however, really quite large now and they tickled and caressed her whenever she moved, reminding her of that which she too was trying to forget. Furthermore, even with these mammoth insertions into her holes, her lack of control was such that, about a week after the modifications, she had a rather embarrassing accident. Following this, new underwear was decreed for her. This was a pair of thick rubber pants with the two monstrous insertions incorporated into the garment. This certainly guaranteed the repetition of such mishaps but the feeling of tight rubber against her skin for some reason seemed to increase her already hyperactive sexual desire.
Chapter 10
The night before her third seeding ceremony, Jasmine lay on her bed with Somanass. Whilst Steven had been suffering unbearable torment at the hands of Sukhumala (apparently, the sexual stimulation she provided increased the sperm production even further which was auspicious although not, obviously, for the person in whose balls it was all being made), she had enjoyed a lengthy and incredibly pleasurable session with her maid which involved both of them doing things with their tongues that neither of them would have thought even possible for humans to do only a few months before.
But then, so much had changed in the past few months.
And it was with this line of thought running through her head, that Jasmine turned to her beautiful modified maid and asked her, “What made you decide to come and work here, Sommy? Surely you would have preferred to have got married and started a family like a normal lady does?”
If Somanass’ face had been capable of twisting itself into expressions as normal faces are, then it may well have taken on a sad look with these words, but of course, the artists had done their jobs well and the same vacant, lippy china doll expression stared back at her mistress. She responded as she always did these days, tripping over herself when she spoke too fast.
“No misthress, noth ath all. It ith a great honour to therve you in this way.”
“Really? Why don’t I believe you, darling Sommy? Wouldn’t it be nice to marry a handsome man, settle down in a house and have some beautiful children running around? Surely that is what every woman wants?”
“The houthe, maybe, and the children, yes, I would love children. But marrying a man! The thought! Now, if it was a handthome woman…”
Jasmine laughed and slapped her big-butted bedpartner on her ample ass. “Seriously now, come on!”
“No, I am therious. It a great honour to be chosen to become your maidservant. Normal women do dream of children and a husband but some of us can dream of greater things than that. A normal woman therves a man, a mere human: I serve a goddeth!”
“Come on, don’t tell me that you really believe all that?!”
“Of course I do! I have seen Holy Somanath entering you. You look differently these days and think differently too. You are consumed by lust and you radiate fertility. What other ethplanation can there be? Even if you do not realise it, She is within you dwelling.”
“Are you sure that it is not more to do with drugs and medical procedures than a goddess?”
“And are you not sure that you have not spent too long in the unbelieving and thpiritually blind West?”
Jasmine was taken aback. The realisation dawned on her that Somanass actually believed all of this shit. She wasn’t just going along with it; it meant something to her!
Wishing to change the subject slightly, she asked her maid, “So, tell me, how did you get to become my servant?”
“Well, I was very lucky, the gods blethed me indeed, because I was actually forty-thecond in line, but the first forty all got killed in the mathacre.”
“And the forty-first?”
“That is Thukhumala of courthe! That is why she geth the first choice on who to therve and, naturally, since she is not attracted by women, she choothes the Emperor. We thurvived because we were both in a temples in Krung Thep acting as thrine maidens. I even had a husband lined up for after my period of thervice. Thankfully that was averted!”
“If you didn’t want to marry him, why were you going to?”
“Because we must do as we are told by thociety. My parents conthulted a priest and he chose my fiance and fixed the date. We can never disobey orders like that.”
“Even if they are ridiculous.”
“But they are not.”
“Ok, say I told you to jump out of the window into the valley to your death. Would you do it?”
“Of courthe.”
“But why?”
“Because a goddeth has commanded me to do so.”
“But I’m not a goddess, I am me, just a girl called Jasmine.”
“No you are not; you were once but not any longer, even if you don’t realise it yourthelf yet.”
The blind faith of this otherwise intelligent and spirited young woman astonished Jasmine. She decided to explore more. “But what about the mods, the ridiculous lips that you now sport… and the tits. How do you feel about them? For heaven’s sake, you struggle even to speak clearly these days! Does that not even bother you?”
“Of courthe, I must admit that it does bother me, even though I should be glad. I used to be renowned for my thsinging and I loved gymnastics, but then I remind myself of the value of these changes. And remember, after all is thaid and done, this is not my body to control but the goddeth’th….”
“But it is your body, Sommy, no one else’s! Jesus! What right have they to make your speech slurred and your tits so huge that you can hardly walk with them?”
“They have every right. I am honoured to be modified in this way; it is my thacred destiny, as also is what is to come, although I do confess that it does scare me a little.”
“Why? What are they planning to do to you now?”
“You know what, Majesty. My mouth must always be a suitable receptacle for Ragaraja’s tool yet that beautiful and sacred member has not reached its full size yet. When it does, my mouth will need to be altered again. Now I struggle to speak clearly; then I shall not be able to speak at all. This conversation that we are having may be one of our last ever and that, and that alone, makes me sad…”
The day following their third seeding ceremony, Steven and Jasmine were sitting out on the balcony of the palace’s private quarters looking out across the forested valley beyond. It was a beautiful scene and what with the insects chirping in the air and the soft scent of jasmine incense emanating from the room’s altar and the presence of each other, their bonds strengthened further by every step of this journey that they had been taking together, both felt happy inside.
Well, almost.
Jasmine, still the dominant partner in the couple due to her age and worldly experience, was troubled greatly in her mind by the conversation that she had had with Somanass the previous night. The maidservant’s beliefs had been so firm, so absolute, that it disturbed her. What sort of society was this that could control the minds and bodies of its citizens so completely? She looked down at her enormous breasts, surging up and down with every laboured breath, a visible reminder of that total control. How could one be entirely happy with a body like this, she wondered, her left hand unconsciously going to her rock hard constricted waist. Despite rubbing hard, she couldn’t feel a thing. The Honorable Chandarith had explained to her that her painfully-tight corset was now a necessity, not a luxury, for during her last set of modifications, she had actually had ribs removed. Now the corset was required to do the job that they once had.
“Why?” she had asked him in amazement. “Because such a tiny waist would never be possible to achieve otherwise,” he had answered. Scientifically it was a good answer; but ethically…? Why did she need to have such a miniscule waist anyway? She still looked pretty damn feminine with her twenty-inch one. Fourteen inches was just too much, ridiculous, absurd…
She turned to her husband who was gazing out over the mountains. As if sensing her gaze he turned his face to hers and smiled.
“What the hell is happening to us, Steve?” she asked him.
His face grew more serious. “Honestly, Jazz, I’ve been thinking the same myself. Only two months ago and we didn’t know each other, we were single - hell, I was still a virgin and at school! - you were a dancer, we lived thousands of miles from here - and each other and…” His voice trailed off as if he did not know how to voice his thoughts.
“I wasn’t talking about those things, Steve. Those things are normal… ok, not normal but natural. We… we aren’t….” Now hers was the voice trailing off.
“You’re on about the other stuff. The fact that we both look like cartoon characters and have had our bodies changed beyond all recognition without our knowledge or permission. That you have tits and a butt the envy of any porn star whilst my cock is as big as a freakin’ baseball bat. That’s what you’re on about?”
“It’s not just our bodies, Steve…”
“Yeah… I know; our minds too. All I can think about is sex. Sex, sex, sex. We did it this morning and we can’t now since we’re clothed and have a lesson in a few minutes yet, even now, even with this beautiful view to fill our minds, without either of us even realising, you have your right hand on my sheath and my left hand is stroking your breast.”
“And you are sitting as close to me as you can in order to rub your thigh against the cushion of my enormous, obscene ass.”
“That too.”
“It’s fucked up, Steve, it’s totally fucked up! I mean, what the fuck is this? We are an emperor and empress apparently, yet where are our people, what decisions are we making? The closest we have come to having an impact on the political, economic, social and fucking religious affairs of this backwards country is once a month when there’s a full-fucking-moon and some virgin schoolgirl jacks you off all over my face whilst I just grin and bear it and so old priests can play Gypsy Rosa Lee with the result!”
“Calm down, Jazz, it’s not…”
“No Steve, I will not calm down and it is worth it! What are they doing to us, eh? What the fuck are they doing to us. Us, Steve, us, not Raga-fucking-raja and Sowa-bloody-thora, let alone Ngu-whatever and Sucky-Swallow which is, perversely, about the one sexual act that I can’t do these days! These are OUR bodies and OUR lives and we are the fucking rulers for God’s sake!! We deserve explanations at least, if not a whole lot more. I want to know who is calling the shots in this country and when we will be able to start playing our part….”
“That time, Sukkisawali Majesty, is not far off!”
They both turned to see the Honoured Chandarith standing behind them, a sage expression on his face, his hands folded in his robes.
“Honored Chandarith, we didn’t realise…” started Steven.
“…but we are glad that you are here because we want to know!” continued Jasmine whose anger had not abated. “We’ve had a lot done to us and not a single explanation as to why and what’s next. We agreed to become your Emperor and Empress because we wanted to do the right thing by our forefathers’ homeland, but so far what good have we been able to do and instead what indignities have we been subjected to? I’d like to see your reaction if someone covered your face in hot and sticky cum for no apparent reason whatsoever? We deserve an explanation, don’t you think?”
“Actually Sukkisawali, I do think that you deserve an explanation, for everything, and so you shall receive one. We have asked a lot of you and thus far you have given freely and in good grace and proved yourselves to be worthy of your exalted roles. However, the road ahead is not easy and questions arise naturally. But they may only be answered in the correct fashion after, as with so much in our ancient and esteemed society, the correct rituals have been performed. Tomorrow at noon I shall arrange for your Phtuoch Phtaem to take place.”
“Our what?”
“Your Phtuoch Phtaem. That is the name of the ceremony. The word is difficult to translate into English but perhaps the best term is ‘initiation’. Yes, initiation. Tomorrow shall be your initiation into the secrets of the Sukhothai state…”
Chapter 11
The following day at noon Steven and Jasmine, in full imperial regalia, entered into the palace temple. Present were four other figures: the Honourable Chandarith, the Prime Minister, the Head Priest and one of the generals whom had been present at the other ceremonies. First they had to all bow down before the immense golden image of the Buddha and offer incense, and only then the royal couple were bade to sit on two of five thrones arranged with one other simpler chair in the centre of the room. After this five pretty shrine maidens entered, each bearing a bowl of steaming liquid for their charges. They bowed low before the powerful guests and then proffered the bowls to them. Only the Honoured Chandarith did not have one. The royals looked questioningly at the Honourable Chandarith who said, “This is thveu aoy and it is necessary for you to drink it to partake in the ceremony. The Prime Minister, General and High Priest will also drink of it but I shall not, for me it is unnecessary. But it is entirely necessary for you because it helps you to focus your thoughts on the important things that we are going to say. Currently your minds get distracted much too easily, particularly our young royals. Ragaraja and Somanath who reside almost completely within your bodies now take your minds towards sexual activities constantly, but for this ceremony we need to dim and subdue those urges. Drink!”
Jasmine and Steven looked at one another and smiled. The chance to stop fixating on sex! Was that not what they had longed for? As the general, priest and politician sat on their thrones and drank, they did likewise.
Within seconds they were starting to regret it.
By the time that a minute had past they definitely regretted it and longed to strike the Honoured Chandarith for his honeyed words.
But they could not, for whilst the brew did do as he had promised it would and subdued all sexual thoughts whatsoever, it also had the effect of paralysing them completely. They could sit there, flicker their eyelids and see and hear perfectly, but that was all. It was a terrifying experience, like a vivid sleep paralysis.
After a couple of minutes had passed, the Honoured Chandarith spoke. “Welcome all of you to the Phtuoch Phtaem of Emperor Nguanamthom and Empress Sukkisawali of Sukhothai. In precisely two weeks’ time they shall be crowned as the omnipotent and omniscient monarchs of this ancient, sacred and beautiful realm and so it is that today they need to know how it really operates and what will be expected of them in the future. Gathered here today are all the people who are considered to be the powerholders in Sukhothai: the head of the government, the head of the faith, the head of the military and, finally, the rulers themselves, the semi-divine royal couple. Oh yes, and myself as emissary between all parties. You will have noted that the five members of the company have drank of the sacred thveu aoy. The General, Prime Minister and High Priest knew beforehand of the properties of the sacred thveu aoy, but our young royal couple were unaware. By now you shall have discovered that it is a paralysing agent as well as an excellent clearer of the mind. I shall not ask you to confirm or deny any of what I will say to you because you cannot. You are currently quite mute, which is fitting, since it is unnecessary for you to be able to communicate to anyone save each other from this day forward.”
‘What the fuck…?’ thought Steven to himself. The Honoured Chandarith sat down on the one simple chair and then said. “Will the people holding the real power in Sukhothai please rise?”
At first there was no movement and then, slowly but steadily, the general rose from his throne.
“General Anakkeanamnach Phdachkar did not drink thveu aoy like you,” said the Honoured Chandarith. His bowl contained tea. The others knew this but drank regardless. They knew the consequences for them and their families if they refused. Please General, explain to Emperor Nguanamthom and Empress Sukkisawali how things work around here.”
General Anakkeanamnach nodded, and then turned to the royal couple. “Eighty years ago this country was plunged into war. The Empire of Japan tried to defeat our ancient and sacred Sukhothai. They almost succeeded. Only one thing stopped them. It was not Buddha, it was not our political class and it was not the emperor. It was the army that stopped them and that was a lesson for us. To be strong, to defeat enemies inside and out, we need to have the army in charge. Today we still face many dangers: The Muslims in the south, in Sumatra, Malaya and Java; in the north the barbarian Chinese communist hordes and even Japan is on the rise again. And in the west they look down on all Asiatic like us. They mock us saying that the Asian is weak, we are small men with small dicks. But we are not weak, we are strong! Sukhothai is a match for anybody in world. Or at least, it is with the army and no one else firmly but surely in command. That is what I have to say; Chandarith, continue!”
“Certainly General Anakkeanamnach Phdachkar, and thank you. As the General has said, the military saved this empire against the Japanese. Not only that, but the Emperor disgraced it. As the invaders advanced towards Angkor, he was more interested in his debaucheries with his harem of a thousand beauties. And as for the politicians, they bickered amongst themselves, none providing either leadership or ideas and the religious, well, we have four faiths here in the empire and although Buddhism is by far the largest, it is splintered into a thousand sects and they all fight just as the politicians do. No, only a military government can rule this diverse realm.
But that too brings problems. Other powers will not deal with military dictatorships. They like to see parliamentary democracies which, in their ignorance, they respect. Whilst the people, they fear only God, not generals. They need a figurehead whom they can adore and believe in. That is why the Secret Pact of Sukhothai was agreed upon between the Four Estates. The Emperor gave up his power for a life of luxury in the palace, the politicians for fat wages and trouble-free elections and the religious for generous state subsidies and free reign to act with impunity. And so, although you shall never see it in any official document, all power rests with this man here and this ceremony today, performed prior to the coronation of every monarch, was devised as physical proof of that.”
At this General Anakkeanamnach Phdachkar nodded and smiled.
“But why,” continued the Honoured Chandarith, turning to the royal couple and smiling almost maliciously, “should this affect you so much? After all, so what if he holds the real power so long as you live pampered lives in your huge palaces? Well, that is what your long-deceased predecessor, Emperor Thaokteab thought, but we were not so sure. He might be happy to waste his day fucking slave girls but would his son, or his grandson or maybe his great-grandson be equally satisfied? It was too big a risk to take and besides, a story was needed to explain to the ignorant masses why their monarch was such a debauched waste of space. And so it was created, the legend of Ragaraja and Sowathara. We co-opted those old fertility deities to create a new status quo for our land. Thaokteab was not fucking around because he was a male slag, no, nothing of the sort. Instead, he was doing it because he was in fact the incarnation of the lustiest god of them all! He jumped at the chance to give himself a larger cock, but little did he realise the bigger plan. His physical transformation into Ragaraja not only made the legend believable to the peasants, but it also served our purpose. With a huge cock he could no longer fuck around, only his modified wife and eternal consort Sowathara could take him. And then we went further: not only could he not fuck around, but there was a great deal else that he found himself unable to do too. But by that stage it was too late for Thaokteab as, indeed, it is for you two as well as you shall soon learn. But, before you leave this ceremony to undertake your final set of modifications to make you fitting vessels for the god and goddess, the real ruler of Sukhothai has something to say to you.”
And at these words, General Anakkeanamnach Phdachkar stood up, walked in front of the two monarchs, bowed deeply before them and said, “Thank you very much for your past, present and future sacrifices for the Empire of Sukhothai.”
And with those words both he and the Honoured Chandarith strode off out of the room, leaving Jasmine and Steve alone with the equally-paralysed prime minister and chief priest. Petrified, they wondered what would be happening to them next, until Somanass and Sukhumala entered the chamber, each carrying a large syringe. They came up to their master and mistress, knelt before them and then said in unison, “This ith the latht time that we thshall be able to thspeak with you. When you are mothified, so too thshall we be, so that our lipths will be able to take your member, Mathesty. Thank you, we love you anth we are alwayths honoured to therve you.”
And with those words they rose graciously, approached the Emperor and Empress, and calmly, carefully plunged the syringes into the royal couple’s arms.
Chapter 12
Jasmine awoke slowly this time. This time.
Before she even opened her eyes she remembered the foregone coup, the previous modifications, her hopelessly paralyzed body, and Steven! Oh how they had been so naive. She should have known, protected her young husband somehow, mentioned her suspicions to him earlier. But that was gone now, and Jasmine was scared to wake up. She struggled to open her eyes, for whatever drug was coursing through her veins left her drowsy and unable to move much. Actually, now that she thought about it, she wasn’t restrained, and she could move, so the paralytic thveu aoy must have been out of her system, but no matter how much she tried, her body never left the bed she was laying in. She must have been restrained, but Jasmine couldn’t imagine how.
At least she guessed it was a bed from the feel against her naked skin, but it definitely wasn’t hers. She felt naked, and the room was cooler than her chambers were, the mattress too hard, the sheets too basic. No, she was in a hospital. Wait! Maybe she had been rescued, all those horrible surgeries had been reversed, and she was back at home in the United Kingdom, just another girl trying to make a name for herself. Yes, yes, this must be it. Her hazy mind drifted off to this peaceful image.
She was later roused from her slumber, and when her eyes opened the lovely dream she had been living in fell apart rather quickly. The nurse she now looked up at, or she guessed it was a nurse, was clad head to toe in white silk, with no gap for the face, and Jasmine guessed she must be able to see out better than in. This must be one of the Brahmanan body artist’s wives, working as a nurse, or maybe a hopeful? Oh it all hurt her head to think of the castes and systems she had been forcibly adopted into. But just the man for these problems, standing next to the white-shrouded figure, was Honourable Chandarith. She looked up at that deceivingly docile old man and began a verbal tirade of insults at his deception. Or so she thought she did, for what she heard then was a forceful but equally unintelligible moaning come from her mouth. She panicked as she tried to phrase something, anything! What was wrong with her?! Her mouth felt fine!
Chandarith looked down at this scene, smiled, and then sat down in a chair provided by the silent nurse. He looked at her almost fondly. “Ah yes, that’s much much better. No more outbursts or questions from you, Your Majesty. You know, when I located you, I thought to myself, ‘A dancer. A nice, simple girl who won’t ask too many questions, she will love the spotlight, the luxury.’ But now I see that I underestimated you. Oh well, not a problem, this is exactly why we do this sort of thing before you are officiated before the people.”
“Yes I see, Honourable Chandarith.”
Jasmine was horrified. The voice that had just been guttural noises came out crisp as a bell. She had even mouthed the words unthinkingly.
“Now that works mighty well! This is exactly why I’m here, to explain to you what in the world is happening in this ‘backwards country’, as you put it. Now that you know your true place in this society, we can’t be having you spouting it off when in public, and even though we have been practicing, your accent is still atrocious, so we will be taking over from now on, on multiple fronts actually.” he said as he gestured to her body.
Her doe-like eyes could not communicate her fury very effectively, so she gave up her position there and followed his gaze downward, and nearly fainted from the shock. Her arms… were gone. Just GONE! And though her breasts, which were now even larger mounds upon her chest, blocked her view, she could feel cool air on her hips, her empty hips, her unprotected pussy lips, and she knew her legs were gone too.
Horrible, sobbing wails came from her mouth as she struggled and wriggled her body, trying to convince herself it wasn’t true, but when Chandarith took a remote control from the bedside table and silenced her voice with hardly an effort, she knew they could do anything to her, why not this?
Jasmine, Sukkisawali, whatever, laid in her bed for a long while after Chandarith left, crying silently. Of course she hadn’t expected to go back to dance ever again, but the mere thought of it had kept her hope alive. Now what did she have? The features of her body most passive and inviting for her one purpose. And as she laid there, the worst part was that she still couldn’t concentrate on anything but where her next fuck was going to come from.
Later that day, she was being fitted with strange prosthetic limbs when the nurse’s shroud ran lightly over her enlarged clit. Enlarged was a nice, pretty word for what they had done to her pleasure center, for when that gleeful old man had held up a mirror for her, she had seen its true nature. It surged forth from her cunt with no modesty, and the shape of its head, long free from her clitoral hood, looked nearly phallic. Her body squirmed as she thought about it, about how her desire reached out to nobody, everybody, and how she would never pleasure herself again.
Slowly, the itch returned with full force.
The mechanical arms and legs did not really have anywhere to affix to on her torso, for there were no stumps to be taken advantage of, but somehow when positioned near her rounded-off shoulders, they attracted like magnets and refused to budge further. This worked similarly down below, and within moments she felt her body rise of its own accord to a standing position.
She felt like she was going to be seasick.
In the elaborately-gilded full-length mirror now stood a corseted woman with enormous ass, breasts, and clit sticking out at least two inches, with golden metal limbs standing eerily still. Long, slim neck led up to her doll face, which luckily had not been modified further. Her new arms and legs were engraved with what she later learned were ancient sutras regarding karma and obedience to a higher power. Chandarith was crueler than they ever could have guessed.
She tried to beg the nurse, but it seemed he had left her mute when he departed earlier, and when her arms and legs suddenly activated and walked her naked form out the door, she couldn’t even yelp in surprise. As she walked down the hall, a new golden silk corset encircled her torso, giving her a little mammary support but not nearly enough; Jasmine’s tits swaying in rhythm with her steps, erect, ringed nipples reaching forward. The motion of walking itself was discomfiting, especially as any motion to her oversensitive cunt turned her on till she was glistening in the open air. She yearned for something to fill her deep emptiness right now, and she even hoped the stretching plugs were not far away in her future. Her new, mechanical hands met and froze in a classical prayer position, even as she walked on in silence.
When she rounded the corner to another recovery room, she saw the back of a strange looking man. He was only a naked, semi-muscular torso, standing suspended by golden limbs in the air. Jasmine locked eyes with Steven as he saw her through his own mirror, and his expression said it all; he was mute as well. When his limbs turned him around, Jasmine nearly drooled. Sticking out in front of him, unencumbered by any sheath, was the largest cock she had ever seen, had ever even imagined. It must have been 14, 15, 16 inches long, and the girth of it was larger than she could’ve possibly put in her mouth. His balls hung below their heavy golden cuff, large and ready. When Jasmine finally looked up, Steven’s eyes were darting between her breasts, which would have hung to her navel if not for the corset, and her massive, desperately engorged clitoris.
And yet they stood still.
And yet they stayed quiet.
All they could do was look at each other’s physical manifestations of desire, silently, for an uncomfortably long time. Until their limbs reactivated and automatically led them to a prep room to get a last look-over by the nurses who then dressed them sparingly, and then they were walked back through the maze-like temple to their chambers. Once inside, they noticed two new throne-like chairs on the terrace, replacing the loungers from before, and their limbs guided them to these, to look over the local jungle and Empire beyond. Surprisingly, once they sat down, the limbs released and clattered to the floor, leaving them visibly helpless, vulnerable, and nearly naked in their seats. If they hadn’t been left leaning against the cushioned backrests their abbreviated bodies would have toppled right over.
“I wish I wasn’t sitting right on my— OH”
“Wait. We can talk?!”
The two quickly aired their desperation to each other, the mutual gossip of their deception by the men in charge, the horrors of awakening, their worries for the uncertain future. They spoke in quick, hushed tones, as if at any moment they would lose their last mode of interaction again with the click of a button. And soon, even though a foot of warm, humid, empty air lay between their helpless bodies, their conversation turned to sex.
“I need you in me, Stevey, I’m serious, it’s not like before. That desire I told you about, how I could only concentrate once you’d fucked me, I only managed that much sanity by masturbating and jumping on you whenever I could. Oh god, how are we going to survive this if I can’t rip your clothes off three times a day?! Why do they want to torture us so much?”
Steven quieted himself, for he knew of no answer, and he just looked down at his now permanently-erect cock, which lay flat on the cushion his thighs would have once occupied. He tightened some muscles in his lower abdomen, and his ramrod member lifted an inch up, then fell back down. This teased his frenulum achingly, but after a few seconds, he knew he would never get release from this. Who knows if he would ever be left outside the sheath like this again? he thought. Desperate, he looked over at Jasmine, who had been trying to grind her hips and dripping pussy into the cushion below her with no success. “I don’t have answers. I won’t ever, I’m afraid. Like this, I don’t know what kind of husband I can be. Oh, what are we going to do with our lives, Jazz? We’re just their puppets now, and I can’t stop thinking about fucking you, our maids, anything! Oh I really wish we could just go back to our first night together, talking till the early hours, and watching you dance for me. For yourself. I just want to go back there, Jazz.”
When he looked over, she was crying, tears dripping onto her distended chest as it rose and fell in wracking sobs. Through these tears came a soft, “I love you.” floating through the air as if it were precious: it was a first. Steven would have given anything to have arms still to hug his wife with, but all he could do was sit there.
“I love you too. We’ll get through this… somehow.”
Chapter 13
This moment was broken only minutes later by the door to their marital chamber opening and closing well inside the terrace doors. Unable to crane her modified neck back all that way, Jasmine looked to Steven, and saw his eyes glaze over. She only saw why when Somanass and Sukhumala came around to the front of their throne-like perches.
The bodies of the two maids were the same, exactly. They still sported the same fake, bouncy breasts, hourglass waists and wide hips. Unlike with Jasmine herself, whose breasts easily outdid those of her maids after these latest changes, nothing had changed there. Significantly they still had all their limbs. But their faces. Oh yes, something had been altered there. Their already puffed up and modified lips had gone from the sublime to the ridiculous. They now dominated their entire faces, two glossy pink tyres each with a large adult-sized version of a child’s dummy lodged within it. The two maids stood before their master and mistress, bowed deeply and then knelt. Then they slowly and ceremoniously removed their pacifiers and both Steven and Jasmine’s eyes grew wide in astonishment, for behind the plastic end plate each had an enormous phallus lodged deep within her throat. Immediately it became apparent why they now needed baby stoppers, for drool started dripping from their modified mouths instantly, mouths that they could obviously no longer close properly.
Quickly, carefully, silently, each grasped their charge’s hips and scooted them closer to the edge of the plush thrones in the warm night air. They then pushed their heads towards the royal couple, Somanass affixing her warm lips to Jasmine’s yearning nether regions, whilst Sukhumala took Steven’s entire member within her orifice. And the shock did not end there either, for Jasmine discovered to her surprise - and delight - that the new lips had a great suction to them and the tongue within them was now pierced and ridged and could do sensational things to her enlarged and engorged new clit, whilst for Steven, once his member was fully inside Sukhumala’s mouth, the walls of the cavern that now encased it clenched around it and a strange yet sensational vibrating began.
Within seconds both were lost in a world of pleasure, fidgeting on their throne, ready to explode with orgasmic ecstasy when, just as quickly as it had started, it all stopped. The maids withdrew their mouths and instead knelt silently before them.
“What?” asked Steven.
“Why?” asked Jasmine.
“They have stopped because I have ordered them to do so,” pronounced a third voice. Jasmine groaned; she should have known! The Honorable Chandarith stepped into view, smirking like the cat that had just eaten the cream. “I ordered them to demonstrate to you what we have done with their mouths. A practical explanation always works better than an academic one, don’t you think? But I shall provide you with the latter as well. You see, both of your girls no longer have teeth and the insides of their mouths have been remodelled to resemble their vaginal channel, albeit quite decorated. They can no longer speak and nor can they close their mouths, hence the need for the dummies. They had to have surgery on the jaw to enable them to open them so far for you, and any gag reflex has been dealt with. Both girls have undergone a tracheotomy so that they may still breathe with your mighty tool lodged inside them, Emperor Nguanamthom. I have ordered them to desist now as it would be improper for you to reach a climax before your coronation now, wouldn’t it? Girls, depart!”
At this order, the two maids dutifully stood up and left, so that the two royals were left alone in the room with their tormentor.
“So, that is them, but what about you? I bet you both have so many questions to ask…”
“You bet we fucking do, we…”
“Shhh, Empress Sukkisawali, shhh! Talk to me like that and you’ll receive no answers whatsoever, and I’ll revoke what privileges you have left. I do not have to put up with it, as you now know. If you want to know what’s what then stay silent!”
And then, to prove the point that he didn’t have to put up with anything, the evil courtier casually took one of Jasmine’s monstrous nipples and twisted it sharply. She cried out in agony but was powerless to stop him.
“So, shall you obey or not?”
Realising that they had no choice, both nodded meekly, or at least, Steven did and Jasmine tried to although her modified neck prevented it.
“Right, so the limbs. Neither of you have them anymore. You do not need them. You are royalty; you have people like Sukhumala, Somanass and myself to do everything for you. What greater sign of nobility could there be? Not that the public shall ever be aware of this of course. No, to the world at large, you shall always be fully-limbed and virile, even as you age - and with the medical care and healthy diet that both of you shall be receiving, expect to live into three figures. Those limbs you have already experienced. They are attached to powerful electromagnets implanted beneath your skin and shall always be a part of you when you are outside of your quarters. As they are made utilising the latest robotic technology – of which we Sukhothais are world leaders – and as you shall always be clothed outside of these quarters, then no one will ever suspect a thing. They are controlled by a control centre located… well, you don’t need to know where I suppose… but manned by expertly-trained personnel who work 24/7 at the command of the generals and myself. They coordinate every movement from the simple handshake to complicated gymnastics. All you need do is enjoy the ride, as it were. Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it. However, once in your quarters, you shall be guided to your throne where the limbs disengage leaving you to relax. In here, your maids are your limbs and shall look after your every need as is their sacred vocation in life which, I believe, you have already learnt, is something that both of them fully believe in, impressionable young girls that they were when we first got hold of them.
And then there are your voices too. Yes, you can use them freely now but you couldn’t before. Like with the limbs, there is a sensor attached to your voice box which overrides the nerves between the brain and the vocal cords whenever you leave your quarters. Thus everything that you say and do, even the very opening of your mouths is controlled from the same control centre as your elegant new limbs. Remember all those long hours we spent getting you to recite speeches and phrases in Sukhothai? Well, we compiled everything, did in-depth analysis on your voice patterns and can now replicate you saying any phrase realistically, not that you shall ever say much beyond a small number of stock phrases and announcements, but that’s by the by. There is a phrase, I believe, in the West, to describe constitutional monarchs with no real power. Apparently they call them ‘puppets’. Well, I can think of no better term for the Emperor and Empress of Sukhothai except that we are now so technologically advanced and sophisticated that, well, who needs strings…?
But, to become monarchs of any type, even puppets, one needs a coronation, does one not? So, I leave you here in the care of your good maids and shall see you in three hours hence in the Great Temple in Angkor…”
Chapter 14
And so their counsellor left and their maids returned. The naked torsos of the rulers-to-be were taken to their shower area where things had been radically altered since their last visit. Now, unable to do anything for themselves, they found themselves being placed into two contraptions hanging from the ceiling. At a distance these looked a little like string bags but once in them they found that they were made of rubber and had straps going around the torso above and below the breasts and one more which went between the arse cheeks, around the genitalia - frustratingly, not touching it so that no sexual relief could be garnered - and then up both the back and front to keep the whole thing together. Placed in this, the maids could then wash each of them thoroughly before then drying them and combing out Jasmine’s long and glorious hair. Tight stays were then fitted on Jasmine which incorporated cups for her ballooning chest and then plugs inserted in both her holes. To Steven’s dismay, he discovered that he was now expected to wear a small plug in his bottom too (to prevent accidents) and that this would regularly start vibrating at random times throughout the day, causing him further frustration. After this, both were lifted out of the bathroom “bags” and dressed in their underwear, a tight, white all-encompassing garment rather like a leotard or ladies’ one-piece swimsuit except that there were no leg or arm holes and Steven’s included a opening for his enormous penis (which was still erect and never would be otherwise) to jut out of. That Holy Tool was then covered in its sheath and the monarchs carried out to their thrones whereupon their golden limbs reattached themselves to their bodies - presumably at the command of unseen control centre - and a white catsuit fitted on each royal so that all the skin below the neck was covered up.
Then other, unknown servants came in to dress Steven in his robes and Jasmine in an elaborate ao dai, after which their limbs sat them down and both had their hair and makeup (another first for Steven, but it was to become the norm for public functions) attended to. Then, finally ready, they were walked by their new limbs out to a waiting helicopter and whisked away to Angkor.
The coronation ceremonies took all day. When they arrived in the capital, they were greeted by thousands of cheering citizens, all waving the national flags. The limbs that now carried them around walked past their new subjects, waving and greeting the occasional baby or cute child. It was strange for both Jasmine and Steven that they had no control whatsoever over their bodies or mouths, they merely existed as two cardboard cutouts for the benefit of the nation.
Inside the temple they first had to participate in the Buddhist marriage ceremony again so as to publicly demonstrate to the nation that they were legally wedded and then it was the coronation itself. Following that there were more greeting of crowds, and then, an enormous banquet in the palace with hundreds of foreign dignitaries and national notables. Neither of them were required to say anything, but what was most annoying was that both were starving, and yet their new hands only picked up the tiniest of morsels for them to eat!
Then, around eight, they were led away to their new quarters, at first separately, where each had a throne waiting. Placed in them, their limbs disengaged and their maids undressed them completely. Jasmine then found herself being carried off to a massage table upon which she was placed and fragrant oils kneaded into her beautiful but truncated form whilst her hair was washed and also oiled. Her nipple and clit jewellery was then removed and replaced with some new pieces that were far more extravagant. Each was fashioned into the form of a beautiful pink butterfly, the ring forming the body of the creature through which the nipple or clit poked through, engorged and excited. Holding up a mirror to show her how they looked, Jasmine could see that they were really quite nice, but she couldn’t understand this pampering. But then Somanass produced a note for her to read.
“Since you married again today, we must make this a worthy wedding night, for tonight will be the first time that you couple truly as Ragaraja and Sowathara. Emperor Nguanamthom will not be able to resist you tonight, you are so exquisitely beautiful. It is an honour to serve such a marvellous monarch.”
These kind words which she knew were true and heartfelt made Jasmine warm inside. However, the sentence that followed made her shudder.
“The jewellery is a wedding and coronation present from the Honoured Chandarith. He says that he wishes for you to be reminded of him, your most devoted and loyal servant, when you wear it.”
Reminded of him! If only she were not!
Beautified to befit her exalted role, Jasmine was then placed on a silk coverlet on a large silver platter and carried into the Emperor’s bedchamber. Her spouse, both human and divine was there waiting for her, similarly prepared, wearing an enormous red butterfly around the base of his raging, gigantic penis. Placed on the bed beside him, she wriggled up towards him and their lips met for a lingering kiss. Feeling the monster pressing against her womb, she longed for it to be inside her, but truncated as she was, she could not maneuver things so. Steven was equally helpless and, desperate with longing, the two looked at their maids who nodded, climbed onto the bed with them, each picking a royal up and slowly lowering the Empress Sukkisawali onto the rampant penis of Emperor Nguanamthom. Never before had Jasmine felt so full, never before had Jasmine felt so excited and, as they slowly started rocking, the supportive hands of their maids behind them, never before had Jasmine felt so much in love with a man.
Epilogue
Three years later
Steven opened his eyes as the morning sun filtered through the blinds of their sumptuous bedroom. The first sight that he saw was the first thing that he saw every morning, and it was a view that warmed his heart: it was the sleeping form of his beautiful wife, Jasmine or, as the world called her, the Empress Sukkisawali. What he saw today was the back of her head, her ebony locks spreading out across the bed. This is because they were lying against each other “spooning,” or at least they would be if either of them had arms and legs. Their maids had arranged them in that position so that they could happily fall off to sleep together, their two truncated bodies as one. As she slept, Steven craned his neck to silently watch her gargantuan breasts rise and fall and his member, erect and longing as it had been now continually for the past three years, began to long to enter her. His hip twitched and he momentarily mourned his inability to satisfy himself, but this melancholy quickly passed.
And whilst he wished to copulate, he did not want to disturb his beloved’s beauty sleep. They had a hard day ahead of them after all: today was to be the naming ceremony for their twelfth child, the baby Loethai. Not that Jasmine had ever given birth of course. Instead her eggs and his seed were collected in a ceremony every Friday and their ten birthmaidens; homely, plain noble girls, raised to be mothers, were implanted. This had been the way that royals had reproduced ever since the close of World War II and the Great Changes, although no previous Emperor had sired so many in such a short time.
But then again, no previous Emperor had had to repopulate an entire royal family from scratch.
Somanass, one of the two maidservants who were forever present in their chamber (to such a degree that their absence was quite unsettling for the two) saw his opened eyes, came over and fixed her modified mouth over his cock. The vibrating began almost immediately and the feeling was exquisite. But before long, the movement and his gasps woke Jasmine, who wriggled around to face him, her round ass shaking with the effort. Somanass withdrew and the two royals kissed, deep tenderness in their eyes.
Knowing intuitively what they wanted, Somanass pointed down to which the Emperor shook his head. She then pointed up. Steven nodded. Up meant the swing.
Because of their truncated forms, the Emperor and Empress needed assistance from their maids to copulate. The night before, when Steven had used his wife anally, Sukhumala, their other maid, had had to strap him to her torso in what looked like a large baby carrier, and used the motion of her hips to help him move in and out of his wife’s beautiful and generous arse. All the positions on the bed required at least a third person, but on the swing they could be alone. It was a simple device, like one of those swings for young children that have a rail to hold them in safely, except that this one was made of gold, padded with silken cushions, and held both in at the same time.
Carefully, Somanass lowered the device down onto the bed and then lifted her master into it. Once she was sure that he was secure, she then took her mistress and placed her in, impaling her on her husband’s cock in the process. Thus situated with their hips pinned together, the penis could not slip out and they were safe and free. Somanass pulled the chain and the swing slowly rose up and up, above the bedroom and into the great glass dome that formed its ceiling. When they’d first experienced it, Jasmine had said that it reminded her of a gilded bird’s cage yet, unlike bird’s in their cages, it was on their swing that the royal couple were more at liberty than anywhere else in the world.
There, bathed in the morning sunlight, the great city of Angkor laid out below them, they were alone and free.
“Dance my darling,” whispered Steven into his wife’s ear and, with a smile on her lips, she slowly started grinding herself against the throbbing monster within her, causing the swing to move as both of them thanked Ragaraja and Sowathara for entering their bodies and bringing them together in holy union.