Chapter 18
Zailon 

Arriving at the island of Zailon, Nico, under the guise of Nikaar Krishnan, and his Persian companion Ferdazi find the area is divided into four kingdoms and they take advantage of their rivalry to further their trade business. While there Nico has congress with the teen son of a cinnamon plantation farmer and Ferdazi with the wife of their host, an Arab merchant. They dig for gems and Nico is taken to the site of a giant footprint by 4 precocious young boy guides (an Arab, Hindu, Christian, and Buddhist). After a lengthy stay of a week they sail to the botanical wonderland of Jaffna where Nico purchases the services of a thirteen-year-old boy whore. 

Codes: M/t, M/b. b/b 

Characters: Nico 23, farmer's son, Rabi 9, John 9, Abdul 10 and Ranasinghe 8, whore 13 

Frustrated in his attempts to establish trade agreements with the pearl divers, and hearing many fantastic rumours about the abundant riches to be found on the island to our east, Ferdazi was eager to leave and investigate if they were true. I was far from as eager. The two pearl-diving boys I had encountered reminded me of the two sons of a fisherman I had met along the coast of my homeland, two brothers who had the same innocence and curiosity coupled with the daring and brashness of youth as they had. My encounter with the fisherman's sons along with Prince Afonso, his bastard brother Jorge, and his valet Menendo so very long ago had left me with fond memories and encouragement to continue with the path Fate had for me, just as now my encounter with the pearl-diving brothers would long be remembered and reaffirmed the decision I made back along the shores of my beloved Portugal. I was loath to leave these young boys so soon, but I too had heard the fabulous stories of riches for the taking and could not deny a desire to see if they were true. So after only two days at Chayl we attempted what we were told was a short distance of only eleven leagues to the Island of Zailon. We made three attempts the first day, only to have to turn back each time. It was indeed a short distance but the narrow strait was a maze of hidden shoals and treacherous currents and the sunken remains of many crafts that had failed to make the passage.

Enlisting the help of two slant-eyed traders with skin the colour of caramel but coarsened and crinkled from age and years of exposure to wind and salt water spray, we sold our parao and travelled in their ship, which they called a sampan, a flat-bottomed boat used to carry large loads sculled at the stern by a couple oars and having a single sail shaped like a half-shell and with many folds and spars allowing for fine adjustments for the wind and easier steering. It was of a new design to me, but they said it was a common ship used in their homeland, which they called Malacca, and lands further to the east, including the land of Cathay. It was, I found, a versatile and sturdy ship, and I came to appreciate its design as we wove between the shoals and battled the contrary winds and currents. It still took us two full days to traverse the eleven leagues, and I am sure we would never have done it without the two experienced trader-sailors and their craft.

We ended up travelling further south than we had intended, about two-thirds of the way down the coast of the island, whose circumference we were told was a thousand miles, putting in at Sri Jayahanapuravard, the capital of the Kingdom of Kotte. This island, we learned from our new companions, was ruled by four pagan kings, all who paid tribute to the powerful king at Vijayanagara! The extent of that man's rule and his power was staggering, but having met him, I had no reason to doubt that what we had been told was true. Even though they were under the power of that great man, the four kings were in constant rivalry with each other. It never ceases to amaze me the pettiness and greed that drives one man and one nation against another. Instead of uniting against their common oppressor, these trifling kings plotted and fought against each other.

Meeting this little king, he looked and behaved much as I had expected so I was not surprised by his pomposity and trickery. It was Ferdazi's plan to contact each of these petty monarchs and negotiate trade agreements with each one, not a difficult chore as each king was eager to outdo the others and Ferdazi, like all Persians, was a great and skilful manipulator. Although easy, it was a very dangerous game and we were suspected of being spies from whichever kingdom we had travelled from. Fortunately, these people are not warlike by nature and are actually poor soldiers and rather cowardly, the result I suspect of living on the equinoctial line. They would rather hire others than fight themselves, and were looser with their riches for those who could promise such military support, which of course Ferdazi did not hesitate to offer with much embellishment. (1)

While Ferdazi conducted his negotiations, I was left to my own devices. Although most of the population spoke a different language, it was not that dissimilar to the languages I had learned upon arriving in this land with da Gama, and all spoke a common trade language. Most of these people, I discovered, did not follow the pagan Hindi faith, but they did follow a caste system very similar to the one I had encountered on the mainland. I also discovered that one of the exports of the island was cinnamon and that this was the source of the sample I had tasted back in Pandarani. I visited a number of these cinnamon plantations out of curiosity, and the hope I might find a way to send this spice directly to Father. This spice, I found, is made from the bark of a tree which looks much like the laurel of Greece and Rome. They cut off the branches every three or so years and remove the bark, usually in the months of April to August, or from November to January. They roll this bark into tubes to dry and stick the tubes into each other to form three foot pipes for transport. It is a simple matter then to grind up these pipes of bark once they reach their destination to produce the spice.

On one of these plantations I befriended a teenage worker, who, being a labourer, was not the lowest but was one of the lower classes, but that made no difference to me. Indeed, one's status in life depended not on who gave him birth, but on what he made of himself in my opinion. The boy was a handsome, well-built lad of fifteen with a tawny complexion darkened by the blazing sun of these climes. The lowlands were hot and humid, even more so than where we had set foot in these lands so many months ago, and we were at the end of the monsoon season which had brought in torrential rains from the southwest. The vegetation as a result was very thick and lush, and these plantations were cut into the jungle of palms and coconuts where there hid great cats, cheetah and leopard, constantly chattering monkeys, and to my surprise, great elephants.

Noticing the boy struggling with the crude knife he had, I took out my dagger and lending him my whetstone to sharpen his knife, I made quick work of stripping the bark. While we worked I plied him with questions about the local politics, both with regards to gems and cinnamon. Eventually I stripped off my shirt in the heat of the afternoon, which lead to him asking many questions about my tattoos and the religion that made such demands on their priests, which in turn lead me to ask many questions about his religion and his prophet Buddha. I thought back to my visit to Kashgar and my first sight of Buddhist monks, and my conversation with a trader's son by the name of Wang Tsung Yuan about them before we had turned to a much more interesting discussion about choking the chicken. That seemed now so long ago. Much had happened to me, and I wondered how he had fared.

I mentioned that among these people who tattooed their bodies like me were those whose skin was a reddish brown, not unlike the inner bark we were collecting, including their members, which resembled the pipes we were curling, except not so thick nor so long. He laughed and jokingly mused if they were of the same colour if they tasted as good as the spice made from this bark. Much to his surprise, I dared to reply that they were more flavourful than others, though certainly not the same as cinnamon. Encouraged by the implication of my statement, he jokingly offered, with a hint of hopefulness, his own for comparison. Much to his delight, I replied I would gladly take him up on his offer, and suggested in that I came from a land far from his he might want to taste mine. By this time I could tell with considerable accuracy when a boy was hinting about what he would like to do but was hesitant to state his secret desire openly, when he was joking and had no intention of following through on what he was hinting, or if he was bating a trap to ascertain another's true interests in the hopes of some gain, usually to inflict some pain or punishment for something he and his family and friends hated or despised, or at a minimum, so he would be forewarned and ready to defend himself. The look in their eyes, the tone of their voice, the way they held their body, one with experience could tell.

His hope that I would be interested in, or at least willing, to engage in oral sex had been evident in his eyes and tone of voice, and his delight was even more evident when I had indicated my willingness. And so we stripped naked and found a spot of shade there in the middle of the cinnamon plantation beside the cut and curled tubes of bark and lie down, facing in opposite directions with our heads at each other's crotch. I slipped my fingers about his limp member, which was still soft but swelling and now a hand's breadth in length. He similarly slipped his fingers about mine and raised it. I could smell the sweet fragrance of cinnamon on my hands, and it being a typical hot, humid day, his crotch was heavily scented with the fragrance of his cock and balls, and sweating profusely myself, I suspect my own crotch carried its own cloud of unique fragrance combined with the fragrance of cinnamon on his hands.

His complexion was of a lighter colour than the Hindis from the mainland and his member and stones a shade lighter yet being concealed by his skirt when out in the blazing sun. I took his member in my mouth first and was rewarded by a pleasant flavour, spicy and mildly salty with a hint of cinnamon most likely picked up from my fingers, or his. He quickly followed my lead and slipped his lips about my still swelling member and we grew firm between each other's lips. The boy was definitely experienced and his member quickly grew as did mine between his lips. I concentrated on the pleasure throbbing between my legs and on the throbbing of the swollen flesh between my lips and the two of us lay there on the soft earth eagerly and enjoyably sucking on each other's cock.

We brought each other to the peak of pleasure and then allowed that pleasure to subside and then brought each other to that peak again. It is a delight to engage in this pleasure with a young boy still learning how to bring another pleasure, and it is an equal delight to engage in the act with a young boy who had learned the basics and how to prolong the act and the pleasure, for himself and for his partner. Most boys his age are eager for their climax and the pleasure of ejaculation, and it was a delight to engage in this pleasure with a boy who took as much delight in the journey to that point as he did in the final destination.

And so we dallied and enjoyed pleasing each other and the throbbing of our own flesh. As it is with those who are experienced and of the same mind, we both knew when it was best to bring that pleasure to an end, and when one's partner was at that point. And so I inhaled sharply with the tell-tale twang deep in my loins and quivered as I felt my seed racing up the core of my benumbed cock and gushing out the burning tip. At the same time I felt the tremor on the underside of his swollen member just below his bulb, which like most of his race still retained its hood, and seconds later my mouth was flooded with his thick, delicious seed. With my flesh swollen and throbbing pleasantly, he tightened his lips about my shaft and began to drink my hot, thick sap and I began to drink his, swallowing the thick goo hungrily and greedily. Two males, filling each other's mouth with their seed and swallowing that thick offering with obvious pleasure has to be a pleasing sight in the eyes of the Creator, and proof of the rightness of His design. That pleasure being enjoyed by males around the world, males of different colours and different faiths, has to be further evidence of the rightness of that act and the wisdom of the gods who designed it to be so. We sucked deeply on each other's swollen, numb cock, draining out that delicious sap until our wrinkled nuts were shrunken and drained.

Bundling up his day's work of tubes of bark, I helped him carry them to his home where they were laid out to dry, and that was when I discovered much to my surprise that he was not a plantation labourer, but the eldest son of the owner of this plantation. The boy's father was just as surprised to see me and to learn that I had helped his son with the harvest, and he invited me to join the family, the boy having a younger brother and two sisters, for their evening meal, a chicken and rice dish of course flavoured with the curry sauce that accompanies almost every meal in India and apparently this country. Explaining who I was and what I was doing in his country, I arranged to have a quantity of his crop sent back to Father and Uncle using a combination of Ferdazi's contacts and those of the two traders from Malacca whom we had befriended, and we reached an agreement to have future crops sent back also, using part of my small share of pearls that I had collected and that the boys had insisted I keep.

Later that evening his son and I enjoyed our secret pleasure a second time out among the cinnamon trees, needing to keep our pleasure unknown by his family though I strongly suspected at least his father knew. A stranger does not just stop and help a boy harvest pipes of cinnamon bark for a day in this heat and humidity out of kindness, nor just in the hopes of striking a business agreement with his father. After our evening meal, I had also concluded trade agreements with two of his neighbours, the advance payment of pearls being an easy incentive for them also, and besides, I am not without my own skills and persuasion when it comes to matters of trade. I am sure my relationship with his son was also a factor in the plantation's owner's trust however, as was that relationship a reason for him to encourage his neighbours to join him in a trade agreement with a stranger he had only met that day.

He had to have smelled the sex on us when we had returned from the field, and he had to have seen the admiration and attraction in the boy's eyes whenever I spoke. These people do not seem to have any strong feelings about congress between males, as seen by the fact that their priests and their religious texts make no objections to it, and, in fact, appear not to mention it at all. That is not to say that the people openly embrace such relationships and so the need to keep it secret, or at least not draw attention to it. Marriage and raising a family, a large one, is still of prime importance, especially among the rural population where one's family is the source of one's labour. Congress with those of the same gender does not increase one's workforce. That there is not a great opportunity for one to engage in his son's preference with others, I am sure the man was grateful that I had been willing to do so, and even more grateful that I had done so discretely and out of genuine attraction to the boy, not for some ulterior motive or gain.

Ferdazi interrupted his negotiations and the two of us purchased for five ducats the right to dig for rubies along a mountainside known to have an abundance of such gems. The space we purchased was one ammonan, two square roods, and the agreement was that we could keep any rubies we found less than ten carets but turned anything larger over to the king. That may sound like a risky and expensive venture, but Ferdazi claimed that the king owned a ruby a span long and without a flaw and that he had seen the gem himself. That was incentive enough for us, and so we set to the backbreaking work of mining for rubies along with many other hopefuls, men of many different colours and from many different lands. (3)

The tales of this land were not exaggerated for we both found sufficient rubies to cover the cost of our privilege and realize a small profit, and sufficient gems to add to the king's treasury to make the selling of such rights profitable for him. It was, however, hard labour, especially in the heat and humidity of this land, and neither Ferdazi nor I was prepared physically nor mentally to make mining our occupation. Those around us who did were hard, wiry men who tended to keep to themselves and were wary of anyone who approached the land they had purchased, hardly the company either of us preferred. There were also tales of a large river which washed out the gems higher in the mountains and carried them downstream where the gems, garnets, sapphires, jacinth, and topaz, could be sifted out by screening the sand and silt of the river bottom. We had no reason to doubt such tales, but again, the labour was much too intensive for our liking and Ferdazi resumed spending his time trying to negotiate agreements with the four kings, leaving me again on my own.

The island is remarkably mountainous, especially to the south, and we learned from a Singhalese lord Ferdazi was hoping was discreet enough to recruit as an agent to handle his trade on the island that there was a cavern near the top of one of the mountains, some seven thousand and four hundred feet above the ocean, near which there was a gigantic footprint said to have been made by a god of these people, though there were those of other faiths who laid claim to the source of the footprint. Ferdazi scoffed at the idea and said he was not about to waste his time, and energy, seeking something as unlikely as a footprint of a god, and which besides, had no profit. Having confided in me that his negotiations were about to come to an end, and having nothing better to do myself, I expressed a desire to see such a marvel, and we were told that any urchin in the marketplace knew its location and would be willing to guide me to it for a price. (4)

Advised to make the climb early in the morning to avoid the heat of the day, I rose with the sun and headed to the marketplace where venders were setting up, also taking advantage of the cool of the morning. To my surprise there was already a sizable cluster of boys. When I asked if any of them knew of this footprint, I found the lord had been right and every boy quickly raised his hand, even the youngest who could be no older than four or five, and in a jabber of languages, each and every one offered to guide me to it, for a price. Slowly scanning the bright, eager faces surrounding me, sybarite that I am, I selected four, those whom I found to be the most attractive, and whom I figured would be daring and licentious enough to perhaps engage in something else at the top of one of these mountains, recalling of course the young llama herder I had congress with in the towering peaks of the Tahuantinsuyu and the pleasure that I had experienced high in those stark, cold mountains. (5)

The first was a tall, slender, swarthy Arab boy by the name of Abdul with a hawk like nose whose look and demeanour reminded me of a young, fourteen-year-old Berber cutpurse whom I had known many years ago, and whom I suspected was as streetwise as Ahmar was, a leader even at his age and hopefully sexually precocious, although probably four years younger than Ahmar. The second boy was an even darker Hindu by the name of Rabindranath who went by Rabi and was the shortest of the four, a boy who reminded me of the young elephant trainer I had met in Vijayanagara and who had a large, infectious grin and who caused my member to quiver with the thought of him on his knees sucking it. The third was a darkly tanned, blue-eyed boy, the lightest skinned, a Christian boy by the name of John, whom I chose simply out of a lust to have congress with a young Christian boy, perhaps thinking of the tales I had heard of young Christian boys being forced to choose between their Christian values and death or becoming a member of some Arab sheik's harem. The last was a most unlikely boy to lead me to the top of a mountain, a plump, slant-eyed eight-year-old Buddhist by the name of Ranasinghe, the youngest of the four. I had no good reason for selecting him other than for some reason there flashed in my mind the image of him bent over at the top of a mountain peak and offering his large, smooth backside to me.

They were also the loudest and each insisted that his version was the true source of the footprint, which they would relate for a price, and I was wasting my money on the others who were misled by false prophets. That was something the four argued about nonstop all the way to the top of the mountain despite the steepness of the climb, all the while vying to take the lead. Abdul insisted that the footprint had been left by Baba Aadamlai, who had landed upon the island when thrown out of the garden and in penance had stood on one foot for a thousand years. Rolling his eyes, Rabi proclaimed that the footprint had been left by Sivanolipadam, or Siva, the Auspicious One, who was both creator and destroyer, and that the reason there was only one footprint was because he was standing on the demon of ignorance with his other foot.

"You are both wrong," puffed Ranasinghe, who despite his extra weight and short legs kept up with the older boys. "What you are about to see is the sacred footmark of The Enlightened One, Guatama Buddha, left behind when he departed Zailon. It is a reminder to us all that suffering is the common lot of all mankind."

"Humph, Ranasinghe, with your weight you leave behind sacred footmarks wherever you go, even in the hardest rock," observed Rabi, to the laughter of the rest.

"Abdul is right," observed John, "what you will see is the footprint left behind by Adam when he was cast out of Paradise."

"Then where is Eve's footprint?" challenged Rabi.

"Everyone knows that when she was cast out of Paradise she landed near Juddah, the port of Mecca," John retorted. "There is a hill there where her head rested, and two hills where her knees rested. After two hundred years the angel Gabriel took Adam to her, and he knew her on a mountain there before they returned here to Zailon to begin the human race."

"So you agree with Abdul why there is only one footprint?" challenged Rami, knowing that he did not.

"No, there is only one because his other foot was in the ocean."

"Because he was cooling off his cock in the sea, no doubt," said Rabi. "After two hundred years without Eve that had to have been one hot fuck." The other boys all laughed.

"It had to have shaken the earth," observed Ranasinghe between giggles.

"From the size of Aadamlai's footmark, his cock had to have been huge," mused Abdul, which led to speculation regardless whose footprint it was how large the individual's member must have been, with much giggling by the boys.

We at last reached the top of the peak, and there indeed was a depression in the rock in the shape of a foot at least two spans in length. Its presence of course did not prove who had made it, or even if that was what it really was.

"Hey, look, here is another footmark in the stone from Adam," observed John, causing us all to turn and look. "Oh, no, it is just Ranasinghe's," he observed.

"It is not so large, but it is as deep," observed Rami, playing along with the joke.

"It is not representative of the size of his dick," observed John. "I know, I've seen his dick. It is much smaller than his footmark. It is more like the size of one toe." The others laughed uproariously.

"You don't leave any footmarks at all, which is representative of the size of your dick," observed Ranasinghe with a straight face.

"Of all of us … Sahib Krishnan has the largest feet … ," observed Abdul with a slight curl of his lips.

Before I could even think of a response I was swarmed by the four boys and wrestled to the ground and four pairs of eager hands began to explore under my robes and to open them. Finding what they were looking for, they did not hesitate to feel it and to take a closer look, and they observed that it was large, and getting larger. That of course caused me to swell even faster and the boys to dare to take a few strokes, all aware of what that action does. It being pointless for me to try to stop them now, or to even cover myself, I reached out and began to open Abdul's robe simply because he was the closest, and of course the other boys eagerly joined in, opening up his robes and exposing a very nice-sized member in a partial state of arousal. Abdul retaliated by beginning to open John's robe and of course the other boys quickly assisted him. None of the boys actually put up much resistance.

So it was that I found Rabi lying beside me and stroking my member while he himself was being stroked by Ranasinghe. Abdul was stroking the young Buddhist, whose member did prove to be the size of his toe, a very fat toe, and John was fiddling with Abdul's stones, leaving his own and his cock within my reach and unattended. And so we formed a circle and intently fiddled with each other. Feeling a hot breath and a pair of lips encircle my partially swollen cock I looked down to see Rabi eagerly sucking on it, his cheeks sunken in and his lips slipping up and down the shaft. Of course I slipped my lips about John's swelling member and delighted in feeling it continue to swell between my lips.

The boy I learned was several months younger than Abdul, the oldest of the group, who had only recently turned ten. I sucked on his little cock eagerly and the boy quickly became firm. John of course was eagerly sucking Abdul, who was now stiff and who was sucking on Ranasinghe's little fat cock while Ranasinghe sucked on Rabi's, completing the circle. Having someone sucking on your swollen cock and slipping their lips up and down the shaft and over the bulb, and having a cock yourself to suck, we forgot about the footprint beside us and concentrated on the pleasure throbbing between our legs and on brining the person we were sucking equal pleasure.

John was circumcised, as was I. The other three boys all had their hood. The two older boys were about a hand width in length and barely more than a thumb thick, the two younger boys, Rabi who was eight months younger than John, and Ranasinghe who was a year younger than Rabi, had members that were shorter and in Rabi's case thinner. None were capable of producing seed yet but the pleasure they were feeling and the building pressure in their loins was the same and each eagerly sucked on the throbbing cock in their mouth while their member throbbed and their knobs itched with that sweet pain that once felt can never again be ignored.

Each boy sucked eagerly on the cock in his mouth, bringing its owner the same burning pleasure as he himself was feeling. My own cock was numb and I had to decide if I should allow Rabi to continue or if I should stop him, or at least warn him. I had no idea if the boy, or any of the boys, knew what happened to a boy who was older. I decided it was only proper that I warn him. When I did, he continued to suck and slip his lips up and down my shaft, but to my surprise each of the other boys stopped and it took me a moment to realize they had done so to witness what was about to happen.

"Now," I gasped.

Rabi slipped his lips off my cock at the precise moment I erupted and I squirted my thick load into his mouth to the murmurs, awe and delight of the other boys. As I continued to squirt Rabi continued to collect my slime in his mouth while the other boys watched, and then one by one they returned to the cock they had been sucking with renewed vigour. I felt Rabi's hot lips clamp tightly about my cock and I felt the suction on my swollen member as he renewed sucking, his mouth full of my slime which oozed about my cockhead as he sucked on it. At the same time I sucked deeply on John's swollen cock and the boy began to jerk his hips, frantically fucking my mouth as he tried to squirt his seed, his stiff cock jerking as I felt a tremor along the dark vein that runs along the underside. At the same time each of the other boys was jerking and trembling as they too experienced their dry orgasm and their cocks twitched and burned.

"So," asked John when he finally sat up and looked at Rabi. "How does his seed taste?"

In response Rabi puckered his lips and John bent over and the dark Hindu boy spit my seed into the other boy's mouth. John was neither surprised nor offended and accepted my slime, and he was quickly approached by Abdul, whom John had been sucking and the two boys obscenely pressed their lips together in a profane kiss and my slime oozed from John's mouth into Abdul's, along with the younger boy's spittle. Abdul in turn turned to Ranasinghe and shared my slime and the mixture of spittle from Rabi, John, and himself. Their lips glistening with slime and spit, the four boys swallowed. This was clearly not something new for them.

We lay there in the shade in the heat of the early afternoon enjoying the bliss that comes from orgasm, our breathing slowly returning to normal. Ranasinghe laying closest to me and with his back to me, I shuffled over closer to him and caressed his round, soft backside, and when he did not protest, I ran my middle finger up his crack and fingered his pucker, which quickly opened up for me. Seeing me, Rabi approached John and caressed his backside and similarly ran his finger up the older boy's crack, and then wetted his finger between his lips before returning it. John inhaled deeply and pushed out, allowing the Hindu to slowly insert his spit-coated finger up his rectum.

Abdul meanwhile searched in his discarded robes, and taking out a jar, offered it to me. Removing the cork, I discovered a thick unguent with the distinct odour of goose fat. Dipping my middle finger in it, I smeared it over Ranasinghe's pucker and slowly inserted my greased finger up his rectum, and the young boy immediately pushed out to allow me easier entry. That Abdul had come prepared and the boy knew how to respond, and I suspect might even have purposefully positioned himself with his backside toward me, it was evident neither of the boys was inexperienced, nor Rabi nor John who had no need for the lubricant, their spittle being sufficient. From what they had done earlier, that came as no surprise.

So, as I penetrated Ranasinghe and began to fuck him and as Rabi penetrated and began to fuck John, Abdul sat back and watched the four of us. My suspicion regarding the precociousness of the four boys had been correct, no surprise considering my experience in assessing and engaging young boys, and my hopes were more than fulfilled. The fat little Buddhist was tight and I do not know how strongly he believed that suffering is the common lot of mankind, and he may at first have suffered my penetration, but at that moment he was anything but suffering. From his whimpers and gasps he was thoroughly enjoying being fucked, and from the gasping and arching of his back, John was enjoying being fucked just as thoroughly.

Sweat was tricking down Rabi's back and along his sides from his armpits, causing his dark skin to glisten, and I could feel my sweat trickling down my sides, the fine, silky hair of my armpits growing damp and sticking to my skin. The four of us fucked openly and without shame as Abdul sat there and watched us, quite content to be the observer, and slowly our breathing became more laboured. My cock was throbbing pleasantly and the knob burning and I knew it would not be long before I came a second time, but I had no desire to prolong or delay the pleasure, and I knew that it was most unlikely that Ranasinghe would be getting his rectum filled for the first time. And so I filled it as Rabi quivered and the two boys grunted and gasped with their orgasms and young Ranasinghe arched his back and quivered with his own orgasm as I filled his rectum with my seed.

As we separated, Abdul approached me, his cock stiff and pointing straight up, and I willingly dropped to my knees and elbows. Still flushed from my ejaculation and my stiff cock dripping with my slime, I knelt there and let the ten-year-old Arab boy penetrate me and begin to fuck me. Ranasinghe meanwhile, his ass filled with my slime and he still recovering from being fucked, approached Rabi who was still recovering from fucking John, and the prurient eight-year-old Buddhist poked his little fat porker up the older boy's ass and began to fuck him, and the Hindu boy was clearly enjoying being fucked as much as he had enjoyed being the fucker. And so the four of us knelt there on the mountaintop beside the sacred footprint and fucked while John sat there and watched us, sporting a most unchristian like erection.

Once again the grunts and gasps of fervent fucking echoed down from the mountain peak and once again there were whimpers of pleasure as Abdul and Ranasinghe reached their orgasms. As I lay back, exhausted and delighted, I watched as John approached Abdul, who was kneeling there, his eyes closed in rapture and his chest rising and falling from his orgasm, and wrapped his arms about him and began to caress the sweaty boy's chest and tweak his nipples. The two boys turned to face each other and kissed and my cock sprang to attention as I watched the two boys press their lips together and caress each other's naked bodies. Abdul dropped to his knees and elbows and spread his legs and John knelt behind him and plunged his slender cock, four finger widths in length, up the other boy's asshole. Christian faith and principles be damned, he had no hesitation in engaging in this perverted act. Watching the two boys fucking, I sighed with the sight and my seed raced up the core of my swollen cock and my member spurted out my thick, white juice from the mere sight of the pleasure the two boys were experiencing. Despite being of different faiths, they all believed in one thing, and that I found all boys believed in unless their minds were corrupted by those older.

When we returned, Ferdazi asked if I had found the sacred footprint and if it had been worth the climb, and I enthusiastically replied yes to both. I discovered that Ferdazi had become entangled in the intrigues of an Arab merchant, the nature of which he did not reveal but whatever it was it was serious enough that we made our departure after eight days in the city in haste and with no fanfare. Our two companions from Malacca had concluded their business and were planning on leaving anyway, so the four of us headed up the coast.

We sailed for five days, arriving on the fifth of December at the port of Yalpanapattinam, under the control of another petty, heathen king. He had at one time been ally to the Pandyan Empire in Southern India but that Empire became weakened by the Muslim invasion from the north so Pandyan relinquished control of the city port and the kingdom became independent for a spell but fought and was subsequently conquered by the Kingdom of Kotte, for a time unifying all of Sri Lanka. It was subsequently conquered by the Vijayanagara Empire which set up governors to rule on that king's behalf, which at the moment was the son of the king of Kotte, Parakramabahu VIII, also known as Ambulagala Kumara. Buddhism continued to be the main religion with Hinduism second. All this we learned from our two companions from Malacca and such was the state of the area upon our arrival.

The landscape became less mountainous as we travelled north, but the heat and humidity if anything increased. The land is particularly lush and rich with a wide assortment of large, colourful flowers and many plants of which I am unfamiliar. There also grows there sweet oranges sweeter than any I have ever tasted, and a fruit like an artichoke in appearance with a pale, firm flesh. Also juicy and fresh were the young boys of this land, and to my delight, these Sinhalese were Buddhist and true to their faith, pay little concern to matters of the flesh, and particularly congress between males, and especially between men and young boys. Like in other parts of the land, the virginity of their women is of prime importance, and yet women are considered inferior to men, a contradiction to the value of their virginity.

So the young men seek their satisfaction from young males before marriage and none are opposed to the arrangement, the men, the women, and least of all the young boys. Whereas in Portugal young boys are seen as innocent, Sinhalese consider young boys as having the same sexual feelings and needs as men. So, while Ferdazi occupied himself with affairs of the pillows with several of the married women, which much to my surprise was also acceptable and in fact promoted, I found myself being tempted by the younger fruit of the other gender who proved just as eager as I was, not just seeking easy coin, but finding pleasure in it besides

The boy I selected plied his trade with the full knowledge of both mother and father, and of his brothers and sisters. I was not sure what the family's trade was, and I really did not care at that point. The boy was thirteen, at the cusp of puberty, and despite being satiated only days before my body ached so for the boy it was as if a sprig of nettle had been thrust between my legs. Like all boys who ply such trade in the city, the boy knew of a secluded bower where he could entertain, in this case a private garden enclosed by a stone wall on all sides and from its state rarely if ever used, the home likely a seldom occupied city residence used by its owner only when in the city on business, or perhaps an inherited estate allowed to fall into disrepair. Whichever, it was an ideal spot for the young boy, private and concealed with a natural divan of moss and fragrant flowers. He gave me the choice of his hand, his mouth, or his ass, and was surprised but knowing when I selected his wand.

So we lay there naked in his bower and he allowed me to play with it, to gently pull back its hood and to stroke it, and to roll his young stones in their sack, and when it was stiff, to nuzzle it and lick it and rub my cheek against it. I dallied with it for the longest time, delighting in the aching pleasure I knew he was feeling and in the look of anticipation and desperation in his eyes as I teased it and pleased it but did not hasten to bring our play to its natural conclusion. When I left off of it, the little beggar wagged and waved, anxious for my attention, and its owner thrust his hips forward and withdrew, fucking the air and making every indication that he did not care how I finished him off as long as I did so. I had the choice of my fingers, my lips, or my asshole, but I chose none of them. I brushed it with my soft, downy cheeks, still as smooth as his, the men of my family, as I have said, not leaning to facial hair. I sucked on it gently, but only for a moment, just enough to make it ache with that burning desire to piss or squirt. I nuzzled his balls and sucked on them, and I caressed the inside of his thighs and ran my fingers through his short, curly hairs that could not have seen half a year's growth, ignoring his burning bulb.

I knew for a boy of his age and impatience that it would only be a matter of time before his lust overrode any control he had, and I was right. He suddenly shuddered and moaned, his breath wavering as he stretched his body taut as a lute and his little jigger began to squirt, his thin, watery juice spurting up into the air like a miniature fountain and falling back down to lace his heaving stomach and to pool in the hollows of his loins. As the pressure lessened and it oozed down his stiff shaft I leaned forward and lapped up the creamy flow and I sucked up the pools of boy cream, smearing his slime across my cheek as it brushed against his throbbing, swollen flesh.

The sweet fragrance of the flowers was replaced by the musk of a young boy's seed which was even more delightful and I savoured its unique taste and slimy, coagulated texture, his sap as sweet as the sweetest orange, as delightful as the flesh of the most exquisite apple. To his surprise I did not have him bring me off, and though I was on the brink of ejaculation, I did not squirt my seed. I wanted to focus on his release and his sap only, and my own ejaculation would only distract from the pleasure he was feeling and the delight that caused his eyes to sparkle and his young chest to heave. To take delight in a young boy's orgasm before one's own is the true mark of a boy lover.

Chapter 19
Cioromandel 

Discovering the east coast of India pays tribute to Vijayanagara but is governed by four rivalling brothers, Ferdazi and Nico are courted by each vassal king hoping to outdo his brother and easily set up trade contracts. Ferdazi has congress with the wife of one king and the wife of a second (the sister-in-law of the first) and Nico with the son of the second king and the son of the third (nephews of the kings and queens, cousins to each other). Nico visits the sepulchre of Saint Thomas resulting in guilt and doubts about his adherence to his faith. 

Code: M/t 

Characters: sons 14 and 13 

So, on the morning of December 8, the feast day of the Immaculate Conception, in honour of the most sacred Virgin Mary, patron of my beloved homeland, we set sail once again across the treacherous strait separating Zailon from the mainland. Heading straight north to avoid the hidden shoals and to take advantage of the prevailing wind and then arching west toward the mainland, we managed the crossing, which I estimated to be of seventeen leagues, after two days of arduous, nerve-racking sailing for which again we were indebted to our companions from Malacca and their craft, arriving at the trade town of Cioromandel along a low sandy shore with a heavy surf. Having no natural harbour, the only reason for its existence was that it was the only part of the coast comparatively free of reefs and shoals. (1)

This stretch of land was ruled by four brothers, the illegitimate sons of a now dead petty Pandiyan chieftain, who though they had kingly powers and all the trappings of kings, were in actuality governors with the title of Nayaka, appointed by none other than the mighty ruler of Vijayanagara and to whom they paid tribute! Having that esteemed Emperor's blessing and a guarantee of passage bearing his seal, Ferdazi and I were warmly received by the first king and his nobles and treated as if we were royalty ourselves, being immediately and constantly throughout our stay surrounded by hopeful sycophants and even being assigned servants to see to our every need. Ferdazi was accustomed to such treatment and became even more ebullient if such is possible but it was something that for me took much getting used to. Every time I turned I was tripping over someone with both of us apologizing.

Ferdazi had planned on approaching each of the kings in the hope of negotiating a trade agreement for their gems and he had estimated that would require spending four or five days in each kingdom, probably a month in total. Discovering the political situation and unlikelihood of reaching any private agreement with these vassal kings, he was of the mind to leave immediately the next day but to our surprise it was the king who opened negotiations and made an offer early during our first audience. His plan, I discovered, was simple actually. He would sell Ferdazi the gems destined for tribute, charging Ferdazi a price higher than they were worth locally, pay the Emperor of Vijayanagara the tribute he was expecting from the coin he got from Ferdazi, and pocket the difference and so make a profit. Unbeknownst by him, the price he arrived at was still much lower than Ferdazi would get back home, so an agreement was quickly settled to the satisfaction of both. To show good faith, Ferdazi decided to stay, but after three days even he began to grow weary and irritated with the fawning and obsequious behaviour of the court though he hid his feelings much better than I.

We parted company with our two companions the morning of our fourth day on the mainland, they having traded the remainder of their goods and being eager to return to their homeland with their new wares. They headed straight across the vast ocean to the east, which they referred to as a bay and which they said was a journey of some four hundred and fifty leagues with a group of islands midway. Ferdazi and I estimated it would take them four weeks to cross such a vast distance. Neither he nor I had ever heard of a bay so large. Not trusting their craft to make such a long journey across the open sea out of sight of land, possibly even missing the islands midway, despite their assurances, and wishing to investigate opportunities with the other brothers ruling this part of the country, particularly having the blessing of the Emperor to whom they paid tribute, Ferdazi and I declined their offer to join them.

Having purchased our own sampan the day before, in consultation with our companions, and having concluded our business we moved on to the next kingdom and found our reception even more honeyed and unctuous. Despite how he felt about the pretentious behaviour and fraudulent front of the ruler and nobles, or perhaps because of it, Ferdazi played along with them and the flirtations of the female members of the court. On our sixth day back on the mainland he confided in me that he had bedded the wife of the first king, which in itself was not that unusual among these heathens who thought nothing of sharing their wives nor that unusual for my companion who thought nothing of bedding another man's wife, and that yesterday, on the night of our first day with the second of the kings he had bedded his wife, a record time even for Ferdazi. To Ferdazi's knowledge neither brother was aware of what his wife was doing, though they had to have noticed their wives' flirtations. Actually, it was quite possible they just did not care–or they thought it part of negotiations to soften Ferdazi up, or perhaps I should say harden him up, to agree to their proposals for the second king had a proposition almost identical to the first's.

For me it was unbelievable. Besides being the wives of brothers, each woman was the sister-in-law of the other brother and to each other. I tried to imagine someone having congress with my father's wife and the wife of his brother, but I could not possibly conceive of such a thing. Neither Father nor his brother would condone such a thing for any reason, and especially not for a trade agreement, and I could not think of any man who would find such a situation desirable nor arousing. Indeed, they would find it most dangerous. Of course I could think of no other man as daring nor as saucy as my travelling companion.

Of course he also had the ulterior motive of furthering the trade interests of his family besides taking advantage of the opportunity to indulge in his favourite personal pastime. I fully understood his motivation regarding his carnal desires, and I must confess that I could not resist taking advantage of my position either for similar reasons. I can only blame my impudence on my long association with the Persian for it is well known that one's behaviour is often the product of the bad company he keeps. Anyway, I was in no position to criticize nor condemn my erstwhile partner. While he dallied with the wives of the first two brothers, I diddled the sons of the second and third.

The first boy was the fourteen-year-old son of the king whose wife Ferdazi was currently bedding. I had seen the boy in his father's court during our first audience, and while Ferdazi and I had presented our credentials and explained the purpose of our presence to the boy's father, his mother had made no effort to hide her interest in Ferdazi and it was evident from her flirtation that if he was interested in becoming better acquainted so was she. Similarly the boy had not hidden his interest in me and though the more innocent would attribute his attention to the natural fascination of an imaginative and impressionable teenager with a daring and adventurous traveller and his tales of faraway people and places, one more experienced and more knowledgeable about the ways of boys would know that his fascination involved something much more and much deeper. Such an observer of boys would also have seen that if I was interested in becoming better acquainted, the boy, like his mother, was also. A slight curl of the lip, a hand seeming to casually drop to a crotch and linger, a narrowing of the eyes, the invitation was there. This boy was not so innocent. Nor was I and I dared to signal my interest with pointed looks and smiles directed at him.

So as we left the audience chamber, Ferdazi was approached by a servant wearing the livery of the royal family and was discretely slipped a note. Out of courtesy and respect for his privacy, I acted as if it were of no significance and did not inquire as to its content. Moments later another servant also in the livery of the royal family slipped me a note also and Ferdazi's reaction was the same as mine. Excusing himself, Ferdazi said he would meet me later and began to leave with the messenger, and then as an afterthought, he turned and said he may be away for some time so not to wait upon him.

What his message had said I of course had no idea, but I had my suspicions. My own, written in a flowing script in the Hindi language of which I had learned the basics, simply said the writer would like to hear more of my adventures. The messenger, like Ferdazi's, had remained for interpretation, or to take a reply. I was lead through a maze of inner corridors and past several sentries at apparently key intersections before being left in a small but lavish reception room. I was joined a short time later, probably earlier than was the prescribed protocol, by the young prince, still wearing his official robes for meeting dignitaries, fingers, ears, and neck bedecked with more jewels, silver and gold, all of the finest quality, than would be found in the treasury of most nobles in my homeland.

The boy truly was interested in my travels so I told him of my travels along the west coast of India and of the king of Vijayanagara, and acting on my suspicion, on my encounters with the young elephant trainer of that kingdom, and of my encounter with the Jogappa, by which time the boy was erect and so was I. He asked if I was a worshipper of Ganesha, whom I recalled was the elephant-headed god of good fortune, the patron of merchants and worshipped by men who were lovers of men, or if I was a kinnara, a term used among other things to mean a man who did his duty with women but preferred men. I replied that I worshipped young boys and he laughed and said then I could worship him.

We retired to another room deeper in the palace, his bedroom, the walls hung with expensive and detailed tapestries depicting past battles, most likely of his ancestors, the floor covered with detailed and expensive carpets from Persia, the furniture of highly polished teak and mahogany, and a large bed piled high with assorted pillows. We quickly undressed and embraced and kissed and fell upon the bed where we caressed each other and ran our hands over each other's body as if we were possessed, and I suppose we were, possessed by carnal desire. His body was smooth and dark and unblemished, and his arms, legs and torso surprisingly solid and muscular for a boy of fourteen and who was not subjected to any form of manual labour.

The boy was clearly knowledgeable and experienced despite his youth, more than most boys his age, but he was a boy of privilege and power who got whatever he wanted and whose whims were not to be denied. When he unwrapped his turban his thick, black hair fell in long tresses down his back, almost to his buttocks, and I was pleased to see that he kept his hair clean in contrast to most men of this country whom I have found to have greasy hair. He was just as delighted as I when I unwrapped my turban and he found my hair was as long as his, and just as clean. I found it difficult to keep it groomed and clean, but I preferred it long, an affection I have had since my early youth, and reinforced by my experiences across the deserts and steeps of the heathen Mohammedans and among the varied tribes of the new lands across the Ocean Sea.

And so I kissed the tender lips of this beautiful, dark-eyed boy of fourteen and caressed his firm, smooth body. I skipped my lips along his smooth cheeks and over his hairless chest, pausing to lick and suck his tender nipples, causing them to become firm and to itch. I kissed his flat stomach and skipped my lips along the inside of his thighs, causing him to squirm and twist and his stiff member to wag impatiently. And I slipped my lips over the wagging member and savoured the unique taste and fragrance of teenage cock. I sucked on it eagerly and slipped my lips up and down his shaft, causing the young boy to squirm and gasp with pleasure.

He had meanwhile been doing the same, kissing my lips and eyelids and cheeks with his velvet-smooth lips, kissing my chest and sucking on my nipples like a babe at its mother's teats, causing them to become firm and to burn with irritation. He kissed the insides of my thighs and sucked on my dangling eggs, and he nuzzled my swelling cock and slipped his lips about it and sucked gently, delighting in feeling it swelling between his lips. He basted it with his spittle and swallowed the cock-flavoured spittle with relish.

And then, with him lying on his back on the pillows, his hips and ass raised in the air, I mounted him with the aid of a lilac-scented oil in a brass decanter. Despite my length and thickness he easily received me and I sank my stiff, aching member up his ass until the knob was deep in his bowels and my hairy stones were pressed against his. I fucked him with long, slow sweeps and we both trembled and sighed with the pleasure, his rectum hot and moist and throbbing in time with my stiff flesh, his anus grasped tightly about my shaft. We fucked slowly and paused when we had to so our passions would subside and our breathing return to normal. I inhaled deeply, delighting in the dank odour of a teenage boy in rut, and then continued to fuck him, drawing both of us to that ultimate conclusion.

We came so close together I do not know which of us came first. My seed raced up the core of my benumbed cock and spurted out the tip and deep up his rectum, past the furthest point my cock could reach, flooding his bowels with my hot, thick seed. His cock twitched and jerked as his seed, thick and creamy white, spurted out of his stiff dick, which at the age of fourteen was a hand width in length and two fingers thick. It arched up over his naked, heaving, sweating body to lace my chest, hot and wet and slimy. Streamers flew from his cannon and laced his own heaving chest, and as his pressure and mine subsided, his seed spurted over his belly to pool in the hollows of his beautiful body and my own throbbed out of my encased cock to flood his rectum.

He called for large basins of warm water. Two slaves, beautiful young boys of ten or so, brought them and wiped our bodies clean with large, scented cloths, and they dried us with thick, fluffy towels before leaving us spread, naked, on the fresh sheets and new pillows covering his bed. We lay there for the longest time, exhausted and delighted. Slipping on loose robes finally, he called again and slaves brought in platters of chilled, fresh fruit and we ate, the juice running down our fingers and over our chins. Delightful cheeses and tiny wafers topped with assorted pastes of unique and unknown favours followed, accompanied by a fine, sweet wine, and finally sweet treats coated with sugar and cinnamon.

Our hunger satiated, we turned again to other appetites, once again arousing each other with hands and lips until we were both stiff. I once again mounted this delightful, eager boy who found just as much pleasure in being fucked as most teenage boys find in being the fucker. Unlike many who prefer the passive role, he had no other effeminate behaviours and was very much a boy in all other respects, which, for me made him a joy to fuck. I plunged my cock in and out of his asshole and sighed with delight as I felt it grasp my thick bone each time I withdrew. Soon I was ready to release my seed once more and so was he, and once again the two of us came together, me filling his rectum with my seed for the second time, and him lacing our naked, sweating bodies with his. When we were done I lapped up those streamers and puddles of cream, and I scooped up his creamy seed with my middle and index fingers and fed him his own seed, which he eagerly sucked from my fingers. The sun was just beginning to rise when I at last found my way back to the room where we were staying near the palace, and I had no sooner closed my eyes when I heard Ferdazi returning.

We remained at the palace that day and that evening found us fucking mother and son again, both of them eager for a repeat performance and both of us willing to oblige, but our business done and having no stomach for the fawning of the court, we departed the day after. We arrived at the third kingdom that evening, it requiring only one day of travel, these kingdoms being small and the sailing easy. The following day we had an audience with this third king. Our reputation having proceeded us and each king eager to outdo his brothers, Ferdazi and I concluded our audience quickly and again most favourably. It being early in the day, we retired to the royal gardens where we admired the flowers and relaxed and sipped on a local wine, which though far from the quality produced in Portugal was cool and refreshing. As I sat there half asleep in the heat of the afternoon I wondered how Alvaro's vineyard had faired this past summer and how our wine venture was doing. It was December, the dead of winter in my homeland, and I longed for the cool breezes blowing down from the Pyrenees.

Arasibo, the Arawak castrati I had rescued from the Kalinago and taken as a prize of war and who was now my equerry, had turned eighteen three days ago, on the fourteenth of the month, the day I had diddled the son of the second brother-king of this land. Shortly before I had left my dear Portugal I had introduced Arasibo to the thirteen-year-old son of my neighbouring critic and chief rival and had witnessed their first congress together. I wondered how that had proceeded. A year and five months have passed since I left and I missed him and the rest of my family dearly. As I thought of my wife and children, of my parents and brother and sisters, of Uncle, and of the Steward of my Estate and his family, a great sadness weighed down my heart. I have not mentioned them often in these chapters, but they are never far from my thoughts, and there are days that I curse this affliction of mine that drives me to venture far from friends and family. And, as I thought of plump, effeminate Arasibo getting fucked by his boy-wife my member stirred and began to rise and I allowed it to do so, concentrating on that erotic memory of their first union and the pleasure on the faces of the two boys, and I hoped that my plans for them had worked out.

"You are having happy thoughts."

It was a young boy's voice. I looked up into a pair of dark brown eyes. It was a handsome face and the boy looked down at me with all the innocence and seriousness of a thirteen-year-old boy. Ferdazi had slipped away while I had drowsed.

"My father does not keep a harem of girls for his pleasure or that of his guests as you Arabs do, but he does obtain young girls from time to time for his honoured guests. If you tell me the age you prefer and anything particular that you like, I can arrange for one to visit you, or several if such is your way." Spoken like a young prince, confident, authoritative and mature far beyond his age. So this was the son of this third king, a cousin to the boy I had fucked two days ago and the nephew of that boy's father. I wondered if he was the eldest son and heir, or if he had older brothers, not that it mattered in these times and with these people. Older brothers were easily disposed of if a younger brother was ambitious.

"I am not an Arab," I said with a smile. I am Hindu, from Anjediva Island."

"I have not heard of it."

"It is far to the north and the west."

"Forgive me for intruding. I could not help seeing your need, and thought perhaps I could assist. It is something my father would do."

"I am grateful," I replied. "But actually, I was thinking of a boy your age, a countryman."

"Oh, in that case, I am available, if such is your pleasure, if you find me pleasing to your eye that is. Or I can arrange–."

"No. That is yes. Yes, you are pleasing to my eye. Very pleasing. But when I revealed my thoughts I did not mean to imply that I was in need of carnal pleasure. Or suggesting you provide it. It is not necessary." I was flustered and not making myself very clear with this young Prince.

"It would be a pleasure for me to do so, not a necessity."

"Another courtesy your father provides his honoured guests?" Nothing would surprise me anymore, not even a father providing his son for the sexual pleasure of his guests.

"No, one that I provide. If a guest is attractive."

I had to smile at the audacity of this youngster. And his honesty. He could not be more than thirteen. "Since you have offered, I must meet your criteria."

"You do," he said with a smile.

"Then I would not wish to insult you by declining your generous offer."

He bowed. "Do you prefer top or bottom?"

"Whichever my host wishes." It was the boy's turn to smile. He motioned for me to follow him, which I did.

It was a bedroom, much like that of the last boy I had congress with, perhaps not quite as lavish and with more evidence of boyish interests, including a fine collection of daggers and an impressive sword and shield hanging on the wall that was evidently his and more than just a decoration. The boy quickly opened his robe, revealing a very different sword and that he was very much a boy. His member was erect and impressively long and thick and his stones heavy though the patch of hair above his sword was clearly newly grown.

"You have been thinking happy thoughts yourself," I observed.

He smiled and watched as I disrobed. "You are larger than most men," he observed, quickly adding, "Not that I have known that many that intimately."

"Then I am doubly honoured," I observed, dropping to my knees before him. Squatting down on my heels I bowed before my royal host and took his sceptre in my mouth. I sucked on the knob gently, and then slipped my lips down to the base. Being a hand-width in length, it was no difficulty to take him entirely in my mouth. I sucked on the stiff, throbbing flesh and basted it with my spittle and then slowly slipped my lips back up.

"Turn around and drop to your knees and elbows," he ordered, sounding imperious but with a quaver of boyish arousal and excitement in his voice.

I did as commanded and spread my legs. He dropped to his knees behind me and I felt the tip of his engorged, spittle-drenched member press against my anus. I relaxed and pushed out and he easily penetrated me. He sank his member up my rectum until his new curly hairs were pressed against my buttocks, and then he grasped my hips and slowly withdrew his member as far back as he could without withdrawing completely and then sank his hot, throbbing dagger back up my rectum. Feeling his slender member sliding in and out of my ass and being fucked was a delight, and that I was being buggered by a handsome thirteen-year-old boy nine years my junior was even more delightful. I wondered how many others he did this to, if they were boys like himself or if they were men, and if they were sycophant courtiers, servants, or other guests of his father.

Like most youth he had one objective in mind, his own pleasure, and one goal, to experience an orgasm, so he fucked me rapidly and without pause, but his eagerness and impatient anticipation added to my own pleasure. So I did not delay him, and when he grasped my hips more tightly and after a frenzy of pumping thrust his cock as deep as he could and I felt his thin, watery seed spurt up my rectum, I inhaled deeply and felt my own seed race up my cock and spurt out the burning tip. So, as this young Prince filled my rectum with his seed, I sprayed the expensive carpet of his bedroom with mine. I thought he might be angry, but when he was done and withdrew his still rigid cock, he smiled and observed that he was pleased to see that I had found pleasure in what we had done also.

It was early afternoon and after a brief rest during which he asked about Anjediva Island and what I and my companion were doing in his country, we had congress a second time, this time me on my knees and bent over his bed while he knelt on the floor behind me and took me with the same eagerness as before. Afterward he summoned two servants who arrived each with a basin of water and warm cloths and who washed our bodies and a third to mop up the floor, the latter doing so with no evidence of surprise causing me to surmise this was not an unusual duty of his, nor of theirs, and I had to wonder if these servants also took the role I had. We dressed and joined his father for the evening meal, during which I was further quizzed by the boy's father regarding Anjediva Island and my travels.

Wondering if I would receive the same cordial reception if he had known his son had diddled me that afternoon, and thinking of the boy fucking me back there in his bedroom as we now sat and ate roasted duck and fine dumplings with bowls of rice with his father, I found it difficult to concentrate on his father's questions and formulate responses that were coherent and consistent. I wondered if the earlier quizzing by his son had been the boy's idea or his father's, and if the boy had questioned me for his own knowledge and use or in collaboration with his father. I even had to wonder if the boy had approached me in the garden and offered himself at his father's behest, or if doing so had been his own choice. It was difficult to know with these heathens. It was a most unusual meal, and that the father did not question my presence and Ferdazi's absence, and left me and his son alone after our meal, raised even more questions in my mind.

I retired to the boy's room again, and again the boy took the dominant role, having me suck him until he almost climaxed, but again finishing with his cock up my ass, fucking me not once, but twice that night. He asked about other encounters I had, even asking if had congress with any of his cousins. I was not certain how to respond to the latter question nor how he would feel if I revealed that I had, but considering that his father and his three uncles, brothers of his father, ruled this area, and knowing the intrigues and plots in any royal court and the looseness of tongues, I decided that honesty was the best decision. So I confessed that I had congress earlier with one of the cousins of this boy, the nephew of his father.

He gave no indication that he had already known, but he did not ask for a name so I suspected that he had, either from the cousin himself or someone from his uncle's court. I had to wonder if he diddled his cousin also. He did confide in me, with some amusement, as he buggered me that fourth time, that my companion was down the hall fucking his mother and that he knew my companion had also had congress with his aunt, making me all the more certain of my suspicion. He also informed me he had several illegitimate brothers by both his parents, the get of concubines, serving wrenches, or even the scullion boy in the kitchen. The depravity of these heathens is only a reflection of their devil-worship and did not surprise me, even from royalty.

The next morning Ferdazi and I expressed our deepest regrets but informed our host that we had received news of urgent business which required us to leave suddenly, and we quickly packed and continued on our way. We did not fear any repercussions for our conduct the day before, but we did fear entanglements and expectations if we remained any longer, knowing the deviousness and debauchery of our hosts. Besides, we had dark circles below our eyes and were totally fatigued and drained. Ferdazi of course would never admit such a thing, and nor would I, and besides, I could not reveal with whom I had spent my energy and my seed. Fear that my Zoroaster-worshipping companion might find out was added incentive for me to get away quickly.

Arriving at the fourth and last kingdom, again the evening of the day of our departure, we learned the king of that land was away on a hunting expedition and was not expected back for several days. His factor and deputy were eager to receive us and entertain us until his return, and from every indication so was this king's wife and son, but there were rumours of unrest in the kingdom and we were hesitant to remain, and suspicious who, not what, the king was hunting. We were not about to raise his ire and join the ranks of the hunted despite the strong possibility he was of the same ilk as his brothers, the apple not falling far from the tree as they say, and besides, our loins were in great need of recuperation.

Having heard during our journey to this kingdom that twelve miles from the city was the sepulchre of Saint Thomas, I was curious to visit it, being so close. That the venerable saint had come from the Holy Land to this land I had been aware, though that he had been here at this specific city and that it was here that he had been killed and initially buried I had not. Arranging to see it was not easy as my companion would be most curious why the son of a Hindu sailor would be at all interested in the sepulchre of a Christian Saint. Besides, the site was guarded by devout Christians against desecration by the Arab and Moor population, who also harassed and killed the Christians just as they did elsewhere in the world for no reason other than spite and envy, though secretly as they were friends of and protected by the Emperor of Vijayanagara.

The latter I found surprising and also had not known, though when I found out and thought back to any conversations I had or had overheard regarding Christians I realized that the Emperor of Vijayanagara had expressed a favourable attitude, though at the time I had thought he was only being curious and cautious, or was under the same misunderstanding as I and my compatriots had been upon arriving in these lands, confusing their worship of Krishna as our worship of Christ. In hindsight, I could have introduced myself by my Christian name and as being from Portugal and have been at an even greater advantage than I had been. However, as Uncle has often said, hindsight causes us to regret decisions of the past, but reminds us to more carefully consider our decisions in the future. (2)

Fortunately I was able to convince the Christians that I was a Hindu, and, I suspect hoping I was a potential convert, they agreed to take me to the tomb, though blindfolded and in the cover of night. It was a simple, unassuming plot with a crude cross with a Latin inscription. Although the body of the saint had been removed long ago and buried elsewhere, Christian pilgrims still visited the site and accredited great miracles there to the saint. I was told that long ago in a battle between Christians and Arabs, a Christian solder's arm was so badly injured the doctors were going to amputate it, and that upon visiting the site his arm was miraculously healed. Those who accompanied me claimed that the sand in which the Saint had been buried had great curative powers, and several showed me limbs that had purportedly been infected, broken, or badly burned but were now healthy and wholly functional after being encased in the sand. I was even told by one oldster that when the good Saint had been buried, his hand refused to be buried, the hand with which he had supposedly touched the wounds of Christ and which had earned him the epithet Doubting Thomas.

Upon hearing that legend, I imagined a part of my own body that keeps rising up, often unbidden and at the most awkward or embarrassing times, and I imagined if I were ever a saint and buried, that it would be that part of my body that would keep rising up out of the ground. It was a profane and sacrilegious thought, especially while standing before the sepulchre of one of the twelve hallowed Apostles, a thought that reflected the depths of my depravity and extent to which Satan had corrupted my soul.

Greatly disturbed, I returned to the palace where I spent a sleepless and troubled night, and for the next three days as we continued sailing north along the coast to our next destination, I was in great turmoil. I had been raised by devout, god-fearing Christian parents in a Christian community surrounded by Christian family and friends. As a boy, and as a young, respected, responsible landowner and lord of a promising estate, a gift from my King, I attended Church every Sunday, and with the one exception of my secret vice, I strove to be a good Christian and to follow the commandments of my Lord in all ways. I believed deeply in the one and only Lord God, his son the Christ, and the Holy Spirit with all my heart. How then, could I have such profane and disrespectful thoughts standing before the grave of the most divine Apostle Thomas, for even if it was a former burial site it was claimed there were still bones and relics in the ground and the power of the Saint was still in the sand? Doubting Thomas. Was he doubting my Christian faith? Was he sensing in me my own doubts? Or was this some trick of Satan causing me to have such irreverent thoughts in such a sacred place?

I had spent just over a year and five months with the heathen, Christian-hating Saracens travelling across their desolate God-forsaken lands, three years and almost eleven months crossing the great Ocean Sea and travelling across never-before seen lands of dozens of superstitious and barbaric heathen tribes that ripped out the hearts of men for their gods, and I have been away from home now for a year and five months first with the godless black savages of darkest Africa and now with these heathens who worship not the one true god but many gods, devil-gods who not only had perverted sex with each other but even changed their gender to satisfy their lusts. It is well known that the best brought-up Christian son can be corrupted by the company he keeps. Have my many years of travel with these heathens and nonbelievers corrupted me? I still honour and obey my parents, I do not covet the wives of other men, I do not steal, I am not a drunkard… .

Yes, I have taken the life of another. Many lives. But they were the lives of heathens, of nonbelievers, and if I had not they would have taken mine. They were justified killings, and for some I was accorded award and recognition by kings and by the Holy Father Himself. Yes, I have committed the most wicked sin of all, the sin of sodomy, and I continue to do so. I have sought and had congress with those of my own gender, and I spill my seed upon the ground. I confess, I find great joy in congress with those of my own gender, and especially with younger members of my sex, teenagers, pre-adolescents, even children. I take great delight in introducing young innocents to the carnal pleasures of the flesh, and I take great delight in engaging in those pleasures with boys who have practised and are committed to such perversion before I met them, and in supporting and encouraging them to continue engaging in this profane perversion.

How can this be? How can I call myself a Christian and yet do these foul things? Yet, why not? Do not the leaders of my church and faith, cardinals and priests, engage in the same perversion with young boys? I have seen and joined them in such perversion. Is it not a sin practised by kings and princes and nobles of many lands, most if not all? Is it not a practice I have found in all cultures and in all nations, not only throughout Europe but in the vast land across the Ocean Sea, in the dark continent, and throughout what parts of Asia, north, central and south, I have travelled? Yea, the wickedness of Satan knows no bounds on this earth, and all mankind succumbs to his temptations. Of that I know. I have proof. I have seen it with mine own eyes. I have joined them in their vile celebration of the flesh, not with women, but with men and boys. That of course does not make it right, nor justified, in the eyes of my God, or in the eyes of my fellow humans.

Yet, I must ask what harm does it do, to enjoy the pleasures of the flesh, for has not the Lord God not meant for such pleasures to be engaged in? Why else would He cause the bulb of a man's member to burn with indescribable pleasure when its only purpose is to piss or to fornicate? Surely not to void water. Why else would He in His creation design a man so he finds such pleasure a hand's-width up his anus? Why else other than to be enjoyed? To be enjoyed only by the penetration by another man because that is the only way it can be achieved. Or is it a test? Is the resistance of these pleasures found in one's bulb and up one's asshole, the resistance of these temptations, the true and indisputable key to the Kingdom of Heaven? If it is, I have failed my Lord God greatly for I worship that pleasure and so will be forever forbidden entry through the Pearly Gates.

Ferdazi could not help but notice my sullenness but there was no way I could reveal what was troubling me. Assuming it was my exposure to the blatant licentiousness I had witnessed at the previous courts, and assuming I had been seduced and had lost my innocence by some buxom maiden for he himself had been solicited day and night, by women of the highest rank, and presuming that I, a simple peasant lad, had lead a secluded and devout life on the Island of Anjediva, he took great pains to advise me that whatever I had been told in the past, by parents, priests or well-meaning elders, life, and women, were to be enjoyed, and enjoyed to the fullest. He meant well.

He assured me that the loss of one's virginity was something to be celebrated and to be proud of, not something to be mourned. Loose women, rich food, and fine wine were rewards a man was meant to enjoy, and I had slaved hard since joining him and deserved such rewards. Like all Persians he was smooth-tongued and cunning, conniving and manipulative, and the most liberal man I have ever met and ever would, but he was a true companion and had my best interest at heart. I smiled and thanked him for his support, and his advice, but I was still greatly troubled and morose as we entered the ancient port of Paleachet, another vassal state of the great Vijayanagara Empire and a sea shore town, a short and easy three days sail that should have been pleasant and enjoyable. (3)

Chapter 20
Paleachet 

Nico meets a man close to his age, Ilya Vasilevitch from the Principality of Moscow and All Rus, and they join 2 boys in their early teens fishing for fish or prawns. Nico arranges for the ongoing purchase of a spice mix, and the next day purchases the salt rights to a portion of a large salt lake. He spends the night with two virgin sons of a salt harvester, 11 and 12, and Miekolos, a 15 yo Greek boy sold into slavery by his father as tribute to the Ottoman Empire and who had been given as a gift to an Arab Prince in Paeachet who in turn gave him as a gift to the people as a highly paid whore. 

Codes: M/t, M/b 

Characters: Nico, Ilya, 2 teen fisher boys, salt harvester sons 11 and12, Miekolos 15

Paleachet was a loud, wondrous city, the largest centre we visited since Calecut, having a population of well over fifty thousand people from all nations and all manners of undertaking, attracted to the port with the promises of riches, power and fame. It was the wealthiest and busiest port on the Coromandel Coast, and, its ruler, not surprisingly, was a former government official who now reigned on behalf of the Emperor of Vijayanagara and paid tribute to him. Known for its textiles, yarn, and the cutting and polishing of precious stones including diamonds, sapphires, and rubies from the Deccan plateau, Zailon, and Pegu, its marketplace was overflowing and bustling from sunrise to sunset and its harbour was filled with ships of all shapes, sizes and design from nations far and wide, many whose names I had never heard of before.

The city having not a trail but a road to Vijayanagara providing a direct link to that great empire and having long-established trade routes in every direction, by land and by sea, Ferdazi was in a state of ecstasy and immediately set to work establishing contacts. With Ferdazi's wealth, smooth tongue, and superior knowledge and skill, and with our credential assuring us safe passage and bearing the seal of the Emperor of Vijayanagara himself, we found ourselves readily welcomed by the royal court and leaders of the city and the merchant community and in great demand. Ferdazi ended up befriending a fellow gem merchant who invited us to stay with him, hoping I am sure to profit from our acquaintance as much as we hoped to profit from his, and to increase his own business and wealth.

The next four days were a furore of negotiations, receptions, audiences and parties that put

Ferdazi's, and my, skills to the test. I was exceedingly grateful for my training under Father and for Uncle's sage advice, and often was the time when a particular circumstance reminded me of one or the other of them and I was able to conduct myself wisely and confidently as a result. Ferdazi's expertise was in the area of gems, both raw and the finished product, mine was in developing a broad and balanced portfolio. While one negotiated the other watched and listened and advised and then we switched, covering each other's back and supporting each other, much to the benefit of both, and I felt good about our agreements and especially our relationship with each other. At last I felt I was truly an equal partner in our relationship, not just a strong back and strong arms. I was also grateful for the opportunity to ply my trade as a merchant for I was beginning to feel I was neglecting my duties to Father and Uncle and to my King. I was also grateful for the long hours and great effort it took for it provided a much needed distraction from the worries and guilt lingering from my visit to the sepulchre of Saint Thomas.

Of special delight was dealing with fellow merchants in territory I was familiar with, and the absence of hidden plots and motives, no effort at manipulation, and no bedroom allurements. For four days every waking moment of our time was spent on business, honest and respectable business, and it was refreshing and a great joy. Ferdazi concluded several new agreements which funnelled trade goods from Paleachet through Vijayanagara to Shiraz, and I struck several that would see an exchange of goods between Paleachet, Viana do Castelo, and my estate by way of the Vatican or Lisbon. At times our goods travelled together along the same routes and by the same couriers, and at other times they went on their own.

Delighted with our success and elated with my new sense of worth and well-being, on the fifth day in the port I took a well-deserved break and wandered about the city. Although it was something I was aware of, I was struck by the rich culture of the people and the diversity and number of foreigners in the city, deep black diplomats in flowing robes from nations and tribes in the dark continent I had never heard of, bearded Arab and Moor sheiks from the Western and Northern cities and deserts, beautiful, beardless, copper-toned men from Malacca and other exotic nations from the east, slant-eyed, lemon-skinned, pigtailed traders from legendary Cathay, coarse, fat-lipped, leather-clad Mongols, timid narrow-eyed dwarfs from a place called Dai Nihon who were constantly bowing to each other and everyone, and countless others whose countries and tribes I was never told.

And the merchandise in the markets! Rich Persian carpets competed with elaborate brocades from the Far East, carvings of wood, stone and jade, silks of the finest weave I have ever seen, spices in such abundance and variety merchants back home would never believe, caged animals from the most beautiful and exquisite to the most savage and deadly, and vendors of food and drink to meet the most basic and the most exotic of tastes. And, like in all cities, there were the cutpurses and thieves, the swindlers and the beggars and the cripples, those who dealt in illicit goods, slavers, entertainers, priests and prophets, and whores of both sexes, and like all cities in the Indies, there was the overlay of castes and sub castes and their taboos.

The next day I rose early and made my way to the north boundary of the city. The trail forked, the more travelled one winding down to the great salt lake and lagoon that extended to the north, the other climbing through the trees along a ridge to the west. I chose the latter and taking another branch I found myself on a rocky cliff overlooking the great salt lake below. Sitting on a flat rock, I watched the people below and looked out across the valley and closed my eyes and relaxed.

"You have found my most favourite spot in the world." I do not know how long I had dozed there in the sun and gentle breeze but I was now in shade. The man providing the shade and who had spoken was a young man, about my age, tall and of an athletic build, wearing a tunic and sailor's pantaloons, with the most remarkable, thick, blond locks curling down to his shoulders and a trim blond beard and moustache. "You have the best view of all from here."

I looked out across the valley. The lake, which stretched north as far as one could see, was hemmed in by the ridge to the west running parallel to a mountain range, and by a lower and narrower ridge to the east which separated it from the ocean. The lake varied from almost white to a deep blue to a sea green depending on its depth. It was fed by at least two rivers, and was kept filled by the winter monsoons blowing in from the northeast October to December and which now were at the end of their season. The margins of the lake were marsh with weaving lagoons, sandy shores, and thick vegetation.

"Of the lake?"

"No. Of the boys."

There were boys below. Many boys. Several were naked except for narrow loincloths which covered little and infrequently exposed their bottoms and their privates as they worked in pairs, threes, or fours along the shallow margins of the lake with large nets, catching shrimp or prawns or minnows. Their bodies were dark and slender and glistening in the bright sun with their sweat. Others were in boats further from shore, flat-bottomed skiffs or one-masted fishing boats with a triangular sail, with rods or nets, alone or in pairs, occasionally with an adult, all with head coverings of various sorts to protect them from the sun. Still others, darker skinned, dirtier, were scattered along the beach, drying something on racks, or tending to rows of shallow pans.

"There is much money to be made there."

"From the boys?" I asked in surprise, keeping my eyes on them.

"No. The birds."

There were birds. Thousands of birds. No, millions. Large, pink, greater flamingos in flocks so large they turned the distant waters red, pelicans with their impossibly huge bills, kingfishers, herons, beautiful painted storks, ducks, gulls, terns, cormorants, ibises, curlew, sea eagles and falcons. Nesting on the shore and in the lagoons, nesting in the trees, swooping over the water and fishing, hunting from the tops of trees, all calling in the manner of their kind, the great choir heard even at the distance we were from them. There was a large market for birds, to be kept as pets and curiosities in cages, for food, for their brilliant plumages.

"So very beautiful," he sighed.

"The birds?"

"No, the lake."

It was beautiful. So were the birds. And the boys.

He smiled down at me, amused by our conversation. "You are not from here. Your accent is not right. And your skin is much too light."

"My skin is much too light? You are not a local either," I observed, returning his smile. He had a very thick accent, one which I did not recognize, and a deep, rich voice. And he was the lightest skinned man I have ever seen.

"Ilya Vasilevitch," he said, offering his hand. I stood and took it. He had a firm grip.

"Frank?" he asked without waiting for me to introduce myself. "Genoese. You will do very well here," he said, continuing without waiting for confirmation or denial of my homeland. "Men here like boys of light skin. So do the women if that is your preference. They especially like Greek boys. Dates back to Alexander the Great and the love boys that followed him and his soldiers. They say it was Alexander the Great and his men who introduced sodomy to these lands, you know?" I opened my mouth, not sure what to say. "Not true of course. Sodomites lived here long before good old Alexander and his catamites arrived. Natives are always blaming foreigners from some other land for introducing sodomy to their pure-hearted men. That is horse shit." I had to agree with him. Every land I have visited has blamed some other culture for introducing the love of men. He did not give me a chance to say so though.

"Descendants from the first boy catamites and whore camp-followers fetch a good price here if they've kept their lineage clean. Then there's the white-skinned gift-boys captured and sold as slaves to the Persians. Mehmen II has sent hundreds of innocent little boys as gifts to the Muslim rulers here and to the north, and some have been put in brothels for the common man to enjoy, you know? Have you been to the brothels here? You pay dearly for a white skinned boy. You would fetch a high price yourself if you were of such a persuasion."

"You would too, I imagine," I finally said as he paused for breath. "I have not seen anyone with such light skin or such blond hair."

He barked a laugh, a deep, hearty laugh. "So true. I could make my fortune on my back. Or my knees," he laughed. "Not many men here from the Principality of Moscow and all Rus. Fewer boys. Now me? I like the beardless, dark, swarthy boys myself. And the boys like white, bearded men. A perfect match, ja?" Before I could respond he continued. "But enough talk. I am hungry. For prawns. And for boy. You will join me, ja?"

And so I followed him back down to the fork and on down the wider trail to the lake. The boys at this end of the lake were tending shallow pans in which they were collecting the brackish water and allowing it to evaporate in the ever blazing sun, leaving behind the salt. They were mostly dressed in rags and tatters and looked sullen and unclean and licentious. They kept their heads lowered and their eyes on the ground but glanced up in curiosity and challengingly when they thought they would be undetected. As we headed up the shore where the boys were working the shallows of the lake with large nets which they tossed out into the lake and then with each taking a corner dragged back to shore, they looked cleaner and healthier and less furtive. Many glanced at us and waved and some called out the name of my companion, and he returned their smiles and waves. The farther along we walked the greater the number of boys and men acknowledged our passing. My new companion was evidently well known by these folk, and welcome.

We finally stopped where four boys in their early teens were sorting out their catch into two piles and throwing the rest back in the ocean. All were clad only in skimpy loincloths to protect their most private parts and two in turbans to protect their heads. One pile consisted of fish of various types and sizes and the larger pile consisted of the largest prawns I have ever seen. The four boys greeted my companion with large smiles and they immediately set to talking, all of them at once. They spoke quickly and excitedly as young boys are wont and despite my skill in languages and my long months in practising their speech I had difficulty following everything that they said. Finally two of the boys gathered up their catch and headed for their village, leaving two of their companions behind. Why they separated and how they had decided who would stay and who would leave I had no idea.

One of the boys remaining immediately stepped up to my companion and looked up at him eagerly. Ilya looked down at him, smiled and reached out and embraced him and the two kissed and began to caress each other, right there before us, and right there on the shoreline in sight of all nearby. Why he had remained behind was evident! The other boy shuffled his feet and looked up at me shyly and uncertainly. It was pretty obvious why he had remained behind also. I smiled down at him and stepped forward and he quickly stepped forward also and as he bent his head back and stretched up I bent mine forward and bent down. His lips were smooth and his breath fresh and clean, which was a relief as I have found many of these people are unacquainted with the practice of keeping their teeth clean as those tribes I had lived with across the Ocean Sea did and so I am often faced with teeth brown from betel nut juice and smelling and tasting of the same, or with breaths smelling of curry or of decay.

Our kisses and caresses had the obvious result on all four of us, especially with the two boys naked except for their loincloths. Those were too skimpy to hide the result of our foreplay with the result that their members soon began to rise and poke their heads out from behind their skimpy covering. The other boy by then had removed Ilya's tunic and had pushed down his baggy pantaloons and was cupping his naked buttocks while they kissed and caressed. The boy I was with had my robe open and his hot hands were exploring my body, caressing my chest, running along my buttocks, and stroking my thighs, causing my member to rise to watch. Soon the boys had discarded their loincloths and wore only their turbans, and Ilya and I were stark naked, our clothing scattered on the ground around us where it had fallen.

Ilya and the boy took the lead with the boy dropping to his hands and knees and Ilya kneeling down behind him. Ilya took out a container from his pantaloons, unstoppered it, and poured a bit of its contents over his fingers. Looking at me, he reached up and handed the container to me and then turned his attention to the boy, running his fingers up the boy's crack and then fondling his rising, and I noticed circumcised, member. It was not as large as mine, but larger than most men I have seen. Unstoppering the container, I found it contained a pleasant smelling oil. I quickly poured a bit on my fingers and oiled up my swelling flesh as Ilya was doing while the boy I was with assumed the same position as his companion. Dropping to my knees, I wiped the remaining oil from my fingers along his crack and I easily inserted each finger, one at a time, up his eager hole, lubricating it and leaving behind any excess oil. I eagerly grasped his hips and placing the tip of my oiled erection against his hole I pushed forward. The boy instantly opened up to me and I easily penetrated him, and he gasped with exertion and pleasure as I sank my long, thick shaft up his ass. By then Ilya had penetrated the other boy and was slowly fucking his backside.

So the two of us knelt there on the shore and buggered these two slender, tawny boys, pumping our swollen, throbbing members in and out of their tight, compact backsides, our pale butts bobbing in the light of the setting sun as it began to turn the lake, and our buttocks, red and to send purple and black shadows across the sand. We fucked eagerly there in the open for any and all to see, and as I furtively glanced around I found few were still on the beach, and the few that were, were paired up also, many in the same position as we, several with one standing and the other kneeling in front of them, as oblivious of us as we were of them.

It was rare for me to have congress with a boy in the presence of another man, and having my bearded companion buggering the young boy beside me, seeing them and hearing the two of them grunting with exertion and obvious pleasure, heightened my own arousal and I had to slow and pause frequently to allow my passion to subside. My new companion was clearly as aroused as I by my presence and had to pause frequently also. Our companions, eager to continue as all youth are, impatient and anxious to experience the conclusion, pumped their hips to and fro when we paused, riding our stiff cocks to continue their pleasure and bring them to their conclusion. The boys were in their early teens, their stiff little members about the length and thickness of my thumb, and both had small patches of curly hair at the apex of their smooth, flat stomachs. None yet had hair under their arms and I was uncertain if their orgasms would be wet or dry.

Ilya was the first of us to come, grasping his boy's hips and throwing back his head and sighing lustily as he thrust his hips forward and began spurting his stuff up the boy's ass. The boy responded by coming also, his slim member wagging up and down violently as his thin seed spurted out the tip and arched through the air to spatter on the sand. I quickly followed and rammed my cock up my boy's tight, hot ass and began to fill it with my seed, and the boy also climaxed and spurted his youthful seed on the sand. The four of us gasped and grunted and inhaled deeply with the pleasure pulsating through our swollen flesh and the burning sensation of ejecting our seed, and the pleasure that comes from having brought equal pleasure to another. Waiting until our breathing and hearts slowed before withdrawing our members, Ilya and I sank back and sat on the shore and the two boys sat up and snuggled beside us. Inhaling and exhaling deeply, our chests heaving, the four of us gulped the night air with delight, our still stiff members throbbing, our knobs glistening, and pendants of seed hanging from the tips.

We helped the boys collect driftwood and start a fire and the boys turned to the portion of prawns that had been left behind, enough to feed twice our number, and skewered several on green shoots. While one began to cook them over the fire, the other boy opened their pack and took out two clay pots with lids and a sack. One pot, I found, contained butter, a common commodity in a land that worships cattle, and the other pot contained the ever-present curry paste, a staple of every household, noble and peasant alike. The sack contained a mixture of spices. Accepting one of the skewers, I dipped my prawn in the melted butter and took a nibble and my head exploded with delight as my taste buds were assaulted. Never had I tasted prawns so juicy and perfectly toasted. The curry paste I tried and after this long in this land it was a taste I had come to enjoy, but it could not compare to the fresh butter. Rolling my prawn lightly and sparingly in the spice as the others had done, I took a tentative bite and the flavours that assaulted and filled my mouth caused me to close my eyes and sigh with delight as if I were experiencing another orgasm. Never have I tasted anything as piquant as that combination of spices, and the taste lingered in my mouth for a long time afterward.

We sat there naked around the fire silently, roasting the pile of prawns and delighting in our feast, the boys, with little surprise, preferring the curry sauce and eating with the appetite of healthy, active teenagers. I thought there had been left prawns enough for twice our number, but to my surprise the four of us had no difficulty consuming the pile. As we finished them off, my companions could no longer hold back their curiosity and asked about my tattoos and all three of my listeners sat with rapt attention as I told them of the Tenochca. Fortunately they did not press me as to where they lived for how a sailor's son from Andejiva Island would know such people would be difficult to explain.

Our stomachs filled and their curiosity satisfied, we turned to other appetites, the boys switching places by their request and our willing agreement. Both boys wanted the pleasure of being buggered by Ilya, something that they clearly had experienced before and frequently, and the first boy, impressed by my length and thickness, wanted to experience the pleasure I had brought his companion. Both boys were attractive, the same age, and equally experienced, and I found one as desirable as the other so I looked forward to the switch as much as they. So again out came Ilya's lubricant, we oiled our swelling cocks and the rectums of the two boys once more, and we mounted the two boys once again side by side, this time me penetrating the boy Ilya had fucked earlier and he buggering the boy that I had enjoyed.

The young boy's rectum was hot and moist and the fact that I was thrusting my swollen, throbbing cock up the hole Ilya had fucked, and the tip probably through the slime the Muscovite had left, and that at the same time he was pumping his swollen cock in and out of my slime filling the other boy's rectum was not lost upon me. It increased my passion, the depraved pervert that I am, and from his enthusiasm, it increased that of my new companion also. The two boys, like boys everywhere, delighted in having their tight assholes stuffed and fucked, and both were quickly erect and eagerly grasping our throbbing cocks tightly. Again the four of us came, me adding my slime to that deposited by Ilya, and Ilya's slime mixing with mine, and the two young boys quivering as their rectums were filled with slime again and they spurted out their seed and sprayed the sand once more.

We parted then, the boys heading for their village and Ilya and I returning to the city, but not before I left a couple smaller gems with one of the boys with the understanding I wished to purchase the spice mixture they had brought not just now but on an ongoing basis and wanted someone to contact me the following day to make such an arrangement. Arriving back at the city, my new companion and I parted company also, and I retired to my bed much contented.

The following morning as the sun rose, a man arrived at the gate of the home of the merchant with whom we were staying, with a generous sack of the spice mixture I had discovered. We immediately went to the agent I had hired to handle my trade agreements and we made arrangements for the villager to provide an ongoing supply and for my agent to forward the supply to my estate, for of course an appropriate commission, and for the present sack to be sent to Father with an accompanying note. Ferdazi was amused, and had gleefully told me he thought I was out the night before sowing my oats, not negotiating yet another contract.

I returned to the lake late that afternoon but I did not find Ilya at the outcrop where I had hoped he would be, nor along the lake shore, nor the four boys we had encountered earlier. I was disappointed, but I did have a second motive. I continued on along the shore, checking out the contents of the pans of saltwater being left to evaporate, checking for colour, purity and taste as my contact in the city had advised when I told him of my intent, and watching the surrounding margins of the lake and the colour of the lake itself. Actually the merchant had smiled when I had told him my intent and had advised me that what I was proposing had been proposed by many before me and would be proposed by many to follow, but I was many years too late. He advised that what was not consumed locally was already contracted by foreigners, had been for some for generations, and that the Arab invaders had bought out many of those contracts and now held a monopoly. He doubted that I would find anyone along the shore, who had anything of value to sell or with whom I could reach an agreement, and if I did find anyone, it would be for an inferior product nobody would want. The few I did proposition confirmed his prediction.

I was about to give up as the sun began to set and those working the lake prepared to head back to their villages. Deciding to try one last time, I dejectedly approached an elderly man and young boy packing up to leave, two unlikely looking prospects. As I had expected, the oldster told me what the others had. He already had a contract through his village chief to sell what the village did not need, and that no matter what price I offered, neither he nor the village chief would risk discontinuing the contract the village already had. As I looked up the shoreline, he advised that the next collector was almost a day's walk and was from the next village. Surprised, I asked if the water ahead was not suitable for the purpose I had in mind, and he replied with a smile that it was better than the section he worked, and that his product was the best. No idle boast, he challenged me to check his pans and to ask any salt merchant and they would tell me his salt fetched the highest price.

Surprised, I asked why then nobody was working the lake further north, and he smiled tolerantly and explained that the right to collect salt, or to fish in the waters, was a right granted only by the village chief, and that right was only granted to those of a particular class. Of course that right came at a cost no lower caste could afford, and no higher class would consider such employment. Obviously I asked if there were not others of his caste then that would wish to collect salt further up, to which he replied there were few not already employed, and none who had sufficient riches to purchase the right. He himself, he said, had many sons and would purchase such a right himself and employ them, but he had other expenses and a wife with expensive tastes, and many sons.

Having brought along some of my better gems, I took out one of my pearls and asked how much area he thought it would buy. As I had expected, the pearl quickly changed his attitude and so I accompanied him to his village where the pearl and the prospect of increasing the village's wealth elicited enough interest for the head of the village to see me despite the lateness of the day. He called in a villager who knew about gems and the head of the village and I sat down to negotiate. Having seen Father and Uncle in action, I was confident and in the end I purchased enough additional area to occupy two of the sons of the man I had met on the beach, he, his two sons, and the village receiving of course a percentage of the profit.

The head of the village invited me to stay for the night, and as an honoured guest of wealth, he offered me his wife. He was not young, and nor was his wife, and even Ferdazi would have hesitated, but I knew I was being given a great honour and to refuse would have been an insult to him, and his wife, and could even jeopardize our agreement, and already my pause was resulting in tension. The man I had met on the beach, whom I had been sure to include in my negotiations in recognition of his help, and because he struck me as being a good man and father, intervened and invited me to stay with him as his guest, and suggested that he had five sons from which I could choose, though he apologized that none of them were experienced. Of course to decline would have been an insult to him also, and besides, it did give me an out regarding the head of the village. Though I am a married man and have had experience with women and am not averse to congress with them, they of course are not my choice for pleasure as anyone who might read these journals will be well aware. Although I had given no indication of my preference, I strongly suspected that the man was aware of it and had intervened knowing that. It certainly provided an explanation for my hesitation and absolved me of any insult to the village headman, who apparently had no objection to my preference, and, in fact, was mollified by the reason for having declined his offer.

So we retired to his home where his five sons lined up, including the boy who had been with him on the shore, the oldest of the boys. Five boys between the ages of fifteen and eight, all virgins. What a decision to be forced upon a pervert such as I! When I confessed it was a difficult choice, I did so not just to flatter the father. I finally selected the second and third oldest, twelve and eleven, which appeared to be acceptable to all concerned. To my relief we retired immediately, the two boys and I using the room normally used by the man's two daughters. Despite my depravity and my lust and although I knew this was not an unusual practice among these devil-worshippers, I still found it awkward and as I and the two boys stripped for the night I wondered what their mother and father were thinking at the moment, knowing that I was about to bed two of their sons. I hoped I had not insulted the oldest boy by not choosing him, and I wondered what the two youngest boys and two girls were thinking at the moment knowing I was about to diddle their two brothers.

As for the two boys I had selected, they made their feelings very clear. The oldest boy thanked me for choosing him to provide the honour of welcoming me, and his younger brother immediately did likewise, not because his older brother had, but, I could tell, with the same genuine gratitude. I confirmed that both were virgins and both confessed that they had only played with themselves until they became stiff, and had never touched another boy. I assured them I would be gentle, and that if they wished not to continue, I would not be offended, and that we did not consummate the evening would be our secret. Both boys were shocked by the idea, that they would go against their father's wishes, and both assured me they wished to continue, not because it was expected of them, but because they wished to discover what it would be like, and were grateful that their first experience would be with a man such as myself.

Thus assured, I had the boys show me, on themselves, what they did to arouse themselves, and I then had each play with my member until it became firm. They were much interested, and much impressed by my length and size, and by my lack of a hood and in my thick bush, the two boys not yet having pubic hair, and, of course, they were most curious about my tattoos. I simply told them there was a people I had met in my travels who decorated their bodies so, and so had required that I do the same. That was explanation enough, and I fiddled with both of them, quickly ending their questions, and soon the little noodles of the two boys were standing up stiff and inflated.

I explained to the two brothers how to pleasure me using their tongues and lips, and the two set to doing so eagerly and I leaned back and sighed as I watched these two youngsters licking and sucking cock for the first time in their young lives. I of course had to stop them to curb my lust, and as I forced my breathing and heart to slow down, I had them try sucking each other, which they did with great glee and which did nothing to lower my lust. Having the two boys continue pleasing me, as I felt myself approaching my climax, I located the lubricant I had brought with me and generously lubricated the anus and rectum of the older of the two boys, selecting him as he was the oldest.

Then, with great care and gentleness, I penetrated the virgin boy and I delighted in the tightness of his ass and the pleasure of sinking my stiff member deep up his hot, moist bowels. I paused again to delay my climax, and then I fucked him there in his sister's bedroom as his younger brother sat beside us and watched, their parents and other siblings just down the hall. It was pure delight fucking this virgin boy before his brother and knowing that no man had ever penetrated him before, and listening to his grunting and irregular breathing as I thrust my stiff cock in and out of his rectum. It was not long before he discovered the joy of having his rectum filled with a man's seed and I grasped his hips and quivered with delight as I spurted my hot, thick seed up his virgin ass. When I at last drew my cock out, the two brothers were curious, having never seen a man's slime before, and they hesitantly reached under my knob and I squeezed a dollop of my seed out of my stiff cock.

As we relaxed the younger boy asked his brother how it had been, and the boy gushed how pleasurable it had been, and how strange, and I told the younger boy that before the night was over he would discover what it was like himself, much to his delight. So the boys brought a basin of warm water and some warm cloths and I wiped myself clean, and I then had the two boys once again pleasure me with their tongues and mouths which they did eagerly. Needless to say, I was soon erect again. This time I lubricated my stiff cock and the younger boy's anus and rectum and like his brother had earlier, the boy assumed the position on his knees and elbows on the pallet his sisters slept on and I knelt behind him and placed the tip of my stiff cock against his lubricated hole.

As I pushed forward he pushed out like his older brother had and ever so slowly my knob stretched open his anal muscle until it popped inside his hole and I slowly continued to push forward until I had penetrated the boy as far as I could. I paused with my cock buried deep up his rectum and my coarse hairs pressed against his smooth, compact buttocks and enjoyed the delight of having my cock surrounded by hot, moist, throbbing boy flesh, and then I slowly began to fuck him. Slowly drawing my cock out until the bulb was about to stretch open his anal muscle, I inhaled deeply with the pleasure and slowly sank my cock back up his ass and the boy inhaled deeply with his pleasure. In and out I pumped my aching, throbbing cock and I felt the pressure slowly building deep in my loins until I felt the familiar twang that announced the release of my seed. It gushed up the core of my now numb cock and spurted out the tip with that burning pleasure and I filled the young boy's rectum just as I had his brother.

And so having unknowingly buggered the two boys who would become my employees working the lake and collecting my salt, I left the next morning with one of the village elders, taking him to my agent in the city to whom they were to deliver the salt and who would see to their future payment. Ferdazi was again amused that I had once again concluded a trade agreement and jokingly observed that we had better leave or those coming after us would find nobody left to trade with. We had both heard many stories about riches to be found in Bengal, still another territory under the control of these pagan Hindus and the invading Arabs, and of still greater wonders in lands beyond, Bengalla and Pegu, and peoples I have never heard of, the Karen and Shan, descendants I am told of invading Mongols and of ancient dynasties of Cathay. Neither of us could resist investigating such tales.

And so, for my last night in the city, while Ferdazi sought out one of the brothels recommended by our host, I checked out another that catered to men of my persuasion. My appearance there among a clientele much older and very much darker, immediately caught the attention of the owner of the establishment, who assumed that I had come seeking employment and who was most eager to have me join his employees. He was much surprised that I had come as a client, and even more surprised by the particulars of the boy I wished to spend the night with. Hopeful that a positive experience would encourage me to become part of his establishment, he selected a boy reserved for his highest paying and most prestigious clientele, a boy highly exclusive and highly paid, and who entertained clients of a very different background. And in that I was a cultured man of very selective taste according to the manager, this night would be without charge. Of course I did not reveal that this would be my last night in his city, and that it was highly unlikely I would return.

The boy he introduced me to was called Miekolos, fifteen years of age, who was most surprised to see me and to find what I wanted. We retired to one of the rooms used for entertainment, an exclusive room used only by himself, the boy having, much to my surprise, his own bedroom. Instead of immediately engaging in what he was hired to do, we sat and sipped on a fine wine imported from his homeland and nibbled on an assortment of crumbly cheeses, wafers and fruits. He was curious of course where I had come from and what I was doing here, and I risked speaking openly and the truth. I knew that what was said between client and pleasure-provider was never private and was often used by those who employed these boys in that the information they obtained was often of greater value than any payment received for providing pleasures that were best kept secret. I suspected in this case what I had to say would be selectively shared with his owner and anything condemning would remain our secret.

And so I told him my true name and of my origin, and how I came to be in his room, of my mission for my King and my Pope, even though the boy was of a competing and heretic church, and of my travel to India with Vasco da Gama and our separation, and of my subsequent meeting with the Persian Ferdazi al-e-Ahmad-ibn-Zadeh and our travels to Paleachet and our intentions to continue to still further lands. And of course I told him of my initiation into sex with those of my own gender first in Africa and then as the slave of a Mameluke soldier, and of my preference for boys rather than men, and my reason for seeking him out. In that he would discover my tattoos, I included my encounter with the Tenochca without explaining where I had met them, and the information being of no value, the boy did not ask.

He in turn revealed to me that he was the son of a Greek olive farmer in the ancient region once known as Macedonia and now part of the Ottoman Empire. Early in his reign, Sultan Bayezid continued the practise of his father of sending fair-skinned boys as gifts to Moslem rulers in the East. The boy's father was given a choice of olives, gold ducats, or a son as his contribution to the empire, and had chosen the latter. And so Miekolos was sold into slavery by his father, a practise not that uncommon among the poor, especially if they had a surplus of sons. In his case, he had two older brothers who would inherit the farm, and being the third, he had nothing to look forward to.

He was given by the Sultan as a gift to an Arab Prince here in Paleachet, who, recognizing his great value and already having enough male concubines, made him a gift to his subjects for all his people to enjoy, endearing them to him and ensuring their loyalty. Life, actually, Miekolos observed as he looked around the room and reached for a square of cheese, was much better here than it would ever had been had he remained home. Here he had a life of leisure, all he could ever wish to eat or drink, was highly esteemed, and when his beauty ran out, would have amassed a fortune that could buy several orchards the size of his father's, and his own harem of boys if he so wished. It was truly a good life.

As we embraced and began to caress and disrobe each other, I thought of the many tales I had heard of young Christian boys and their fathers who were forced to choose between their Christian beliefs and engaging in the sin of sodomy with their new heathen masters, many choosing death rather than live such a life, some becoming martyrs and even saints and remaining pure and chaste, but dead. Miekolos, I felt, had made the wiser choice. After congress with black niggers and tawny-skinned devil-worshippers, it was strange to look upon a boy whose skin was even fairer than mine, constant exposure to the sun and wind having darkened mine considerably. His eyes were green and his hair was long and fine and curled down to his shoulders.

He told me most of his clients were Arabs or Hindu pagans, dark men who preferred fair-skinned boys, the former smelling of camels and horses, the latter of curry, and both members of the city's elite and closely connected to a particular Arab prince. In fact, he told me, I was the first fair-skinned man he had ever had sex with, and the first that was covered with tattoos. And circumcised. He himself had not undergone that covenant, whether because his heretic faith did not require it or because of a whim of his mother or father, or because of the lack of a doctor to perform the operation, I did not know, but I knew they were all possible reasons. I was used to having congress with boys who still had a hood, of course, and it was much different to do so with a fair-skinned boy, and to peel back his skin to reveal not a purple-black bulb but one that was a purple-brown, like a beet.

We decided to begin by pleasing each other orally, lying on our sides facing each other but in opposite directions so I could take his member in my mouth at the same time as he took my member in his. The boy of course was experienced and knew the pleasures to be had and how to give them, as was I, and the experience was a delight. The fragrance of his stones and cock was unlike those of black men or these Hindus and reminded me of olives and the tang of the sea, of the stones and cock of my ostler, Vasco. It was refreshing to suck the cock of a young boy who was neither black nor brown, and to be sucked by a boy who was not a heathen. It was also a delight to be sucked by a boy who did so for the sheer pleasure of sucking a man's cock and drawing out his seed, the payment, for him, being incidental.

He was as aroused as I was, being accustomed to satisfying the needs of these heathens and devil-worshippers, and satisfying men whose only concern was their own pleasure. To suck the cock of a man who was as concerned about your pleasure as his own is not the norm in a brothel, or, for that matter, in most relationships between a man and a boy. So, the two of us took great care to please, and took great delight in the pleasure we were receiving. We delayed our orgasm several times before we could hold back no longer and we came together, the boy squirting his seed into my mouth and me squirting mine into his. I allowed it to collect and I delighted in the taste and the texture of this fifteen-year-old's slime, and I allowed it to fill my mouth and baste my tongue before I finally swallowed it. I blasted a generous load into the boy's mouth and he too paused to savour the consistency of my slime and the taste, which I knew would be much different from the taste of his Arab and Hindu clientele. Finally, our lips glistening with each other's slime, and with the taste of each other's cock and seed in each other's mouth, we looked up at each other and smiled.

We talked, about his experiences and mine, and about our immediate plans and about our dreams for the future. He had no desire or plans to return to family or his homeland, neither holding pleasant memories for him. I felt sorry for him. I missed my family greatly and looked forward to returning home some day. Admittedly it was more than my duty to my country and my church that kept me away, but that did not mean I loved my family any the less. As for venturing to new lands and meeting new people, Miekolos had no interest and thought it not worth the risk nor the discomfort, and I have to admit there were times where my life was in danger, and many times when I went without food, water or sleep, but seeing new lands and learning from new people made it worthwhile, and my family profited from my efforts. To sit at home as a country squire attending balls and watching the world go by did not appeal to me. These last couple days and the pleasures I had enjoyed I would have never been able to experience otherwise and more than made up for the risks and discomforts.

He asked if I wanted to fuck him, and I replied that I would rather he fuck me. He snorted in surprise, his clients invariably choosing to take the dominant role, and he was delighted for the opportunity to be the one doing the penetrating. For me, I enjoy both, and to be fucked by another, especially a younger person, can often be the better choice of the two, as in the present circumstances. I knew for him being the one getting fucked was far more common. It had been for me both as a bath boy in the Ottoman Empire, and as a dancer as I travelled with the Arabs and the Mongols, so I knew giving him the opportunity to play the dominant role was a greater gift than any material wealth I might have given him.

And so he lubed my anus and rectum and his cock, and I lay on my back with my ass raised on pillows so that I might watch the boy's face as he fucked me, and especially when he came, a position he was not unacquainted with. And so I lay there and looked down at this teenage boy as he positioned his cock at the entrance to my rectum, and as he pressed forward and slowly penetrated me. He was generously built, his cock the length of a hand-width and a half and over two fingers thick, and it was a delight to feel his knob spreading open my anal muscle and popping inside my body, and then slowly penetrating my ass until my eggs were nested in his coarse hairs. The look of achievement and pleasure on his face caused my cock to wag in delight, and as his eyes gradually drooped as he focussed on pumping his cock in and out of my hot, tight ass I knew what he was thinking and how he was feeling. As I watched his face slowly brighten with the pleasure he was experiencing my own pleasure doubled.

He was as knowledgeable at this as he was at sucking cock if not as experienced, and he paused several times to allow his ardour to subside, and at the same time for my lust to throb with less force. Watching the expression on his face was as delightful as feeling his teenage cock up my ass and when at last he came both feeling my ass being flooded with his hot slime and the look in his eyes were delightful and my own seed raced up the core of my swollen cock and spurted out the tip with such force it almost struck my chin. As his young cock throbbed out his teenage juice, my cock sprayed my naked body with my cream, leaving thick, white puddles and streamers running down my ribs.

Chapter 21
Bengal and Pegu 

Arriving at the prosperous and thriving city of Benghalla, Ferdazi and Nico discuss their faiths with a group of Nestorians, and feeling guilty lying about being a Hindu, Nico travels through the rural area preaching about Christianity where in one village he and the village elder are fellated by two preteen boys. He and Ferdazi are joined by a Buddhist Arahant Chen Phnom Louangngum from what today is Laos and they discuss the tenets of their faith. Arriving at Pegu they have an audience with the King and Nico has congress with two precocious preteen Buddhist novices, Maung and Piakaiu. 

Codes: M/b 

Characters: Maung 8 Piakaiu 7

So, the next morning, the last day of December, in the year of our Lord fourteen hundred and ninety-eight, Ferdazi and I set sail once again, taking our sampan north and east, arriving eight days later under favourable winds and currents at the city of Benghalla. My mood had greatly improved, and once again plying my skills as a sailor with the wind and ocean spray in my face and the sun beating down upon me, I put the sour thoughts of Cioromandel behind me. Ferdazi thought my change was the result of the talk he had with me, and I saw no reason to correct the impression he had of his influence on my mood, nor of the assumptions he had regarding my loss of chastity and purity.

The former ruler of this part of the world we had entered had been assassinated by his wazir four years ago and that wazir had assumed the title of Sultan of Bengal. We were told his soldiers had continued to plunder the capital and area after he assumed power despite being warned not to, and as punishment and as a warning, he had twelve thousand of his soldiers killed and he recovered and returned the looted articles, including thirteen thousand gold plates. The numbers quoted were astounding, and that a heathen Moor would do such a thing even more astounding!

Compared to the previous Sultan, this Moor took a liberal attitude toward his Hindu subjects, and we were told his reign heralded a time of peace and prosperity. I found it a strange legacy and prophesy considering it began with the murder of the former ruler and the end of a dynasty, and the death of thousands of soldiers responsible for the present ruler sitting on the throne, one who at the time of our arrival, we learned, was preparing for war against a neighbouring kingdom! We learned he was also constantly at war with the Powerful King of Vijayanagara and he had a ready army of 200,000 men, all Mohammedan, both foot and horse soldiers. A time of peace and prosperity? Well, these are heathens and a vicious and unpredictable people.

Despite the political situation, this is undoubtedly the best city in the world to live in for it was unquestionably prosperous and an active and thriving trading community with the richest merchants I have ever met, their wealth and power unrivalled anywhere I have ever been. Merchants here traded jewels of every kind and size imaginable, much to Ferdazi's delight, besides many bolts of cloth made from cotton or silk including a bolt of a marvellous woven cloth called sinabaff from China which I purchased to send to my wife, exotic birds and animals, and all of the things traded in Paleachet with cities and lands as far away as Istanbul, Cairo, Persia, Arabia, Abyssinia and India, all of which sent merchants to sell their merchandise here (1)

On our second day in the city I noticed a group of shoeless merchants trading among other things, fine silk cloths, musk, a bitter tonic I knew as aloes-wood, and a fragrant resin which I had never heard of which they said came from trees which grew on islands far to the south and which they said was used in perfumes and in medicines. They wore a jerkin with the sleeves quilted with cotton, a red cap a palm and a half long, and silk breeches similar to those worn by some mariners. As we talked I was surprised to hear them call themselves Christians, a claim which I quickly doubted. For one, I and my shipmates had earlier been deceived into thinking the people of these parts, these Hindus, were Christians until I discovered they worshipped the devil Krishna, not Christ, the Son of God, as we had first thought.

For another, they were slant-eyed and of yellow skin and looked like no Christians I have ever met. So of course I questioned them about their religion, pretending to be curious, and much to my surprise, I discovered that they believed in the Trinity, the Twelve Apostles, and the four Evangelists, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John! There was not a single mention of Krishna nor any of these gender-switching devils worshipped in the lands we had travelled through. Not only that, I discovered they observed baptism by water, Lent, the Nativity and the Passion of Christ. It was only when we talked still further and began to discuss the nature of Jesus and his mother the virgin Mary that I realized these were not true Christians as they claimed, but were once again heretics who followed the teachings of Nestorius of Constantinople.

Even so, it was a delight to talk to enlightened men who believed in the one true God and in His commandments even though they were misled about the true nature of His Son. It did give me great wonder that after having been driven out of the Byzantine Empire members of their faith had penetrated thousands of miles east and south into these heathen lands and that after all these years among heathens and devil-worshippers they had continued to maintain and follow their faith. Their sudden and unexpected presence here in this city also reminded me of my promise to the Holy Father and to God to further the teaching of the Holy Church of Rome in my travels, something which I have been lax in doing these past months, and I had to suspect that the presence of these devout worshippers was the doing of God, that He had caused them to be here to remind me of my oaths and my duty. (2)

That of course had been most difficult for me to do being under the guise of Nikaar Krishnan, a devil-worshipper and the son of sailors from the island of Anjediva. As it was, my conversation itself with these Christian merchants had been most awkward. Both they, and my Persian companion, found it most curious that a simple, lower-caste Hindu boy would know so much about the Christian faith as to discuss the nature of Christ and the appropriateness of according the title "Mother of God" to the Virgin Mary. It was one of the Nestorians who provided my salvation, mentioning in passing that he had heard great and ancient temples for the worship of the gods of my faith had been built on the islands I was from. There had been such temples erected as remote, monastic retreats. Their existence had been briefly mentioned by the second boy priest I had met and had congress with in Calecut, trying to impress me with his worldly knowledge and with the great breadth and great age of his faith.

I explained that Christians from the far West had come to my island to see these ancient temples and had talked at great length of their faith and had tried to convert me. It was a plausible tale which Ferdazi and the Nestorians readily believed, much to my relief. I added that I had been particularly fascinated by the concept of a virgin birth, accounting for my abnormal depth of knowledge on the topic. To that they had all laughed and observed that it was not a surprise a young, virgin, heathen boy would find such a concept of interest, just as I had hoped they would. That I would use the patron of my homeland, and the mother of the Son of God, in a lie, and in such a crude context, caused me much shame and guilt, and I expected and greatly feared to be struck by a bolt of lightning on the spot and was much surprised I was not, but I knew the Wrath of God would come at a time of His choosing, not mine.

The vulgar reason I had given for my interest and knowledge of the Miracle of the Immaculate Conception only magnified my feelings of guilt and shame and that, besides the fear of God's vengeance, spurred me on to rectify my lapse and make up for my laxity in my promise to the Holy Father. So, early the next morning as Ferdazi set out to continue meeting with the local gem merchants I headed for the small, remote villages surrounding the city. Neither Ferdazi nor the Nestorians would have cause to go there and so would never know of my proselytising. I brought with me various herbs I had purchased at the local bazaar, knowing from experience that these remote villages often had a shortage of healers, and I found the villages I visited to be of no exception. In each village I sought out the village elder or headman and explained that I was on a pilgrimage and was earning my meals by tending to the ill along my way. And as I saw to minor scrapes and injuries and the occasional toothache, I talked about my God and His Son and my faith, and my patients having no choice as they were being treated, or in gratitude for my lessening of their pain, suffered my presence and listened.

I visited three villages that day, staying the night at the third, and the next morning I headed east with the intention of circling around and returning to Benghalla. At each village the headman eagerly welcomed me for visitors were rare and those with the knowledge of healing even rarer, and though the village often had nobody who required my services, the headman was eager to hear about the villages I had been to and any news I had. I was reminded of the Trader whom I had met early in my travels in the lands across the great Ocean Sea, and how welcome he had been at each village he went to, not just for his goods, but for his stories, and of his news. The situation was no different here.

Arriving at one such village late in the afternoon of my second day, I sat down with the village headman in cushioned wicker chairs before a table draped with his finest linen in the shade of a great palm, and he motioned to two young boys idly standing about in the shade nearby who immediately disappeared inside a hut and emerged with two cups, a pot of tea, and a plate of sweet pastries, and we drank and ate and talked while the village dogs sniffed my feet and legs and sought out any crumbs that fell to the ground.

The elder motioned once more and two other boys, slightly younger than the first, quickly approached. I expected them to retrieve and refill the pot, or the now empty plate, but to my surprise they dropped to their knees and disappeared under the table. A moment later I felt one brush against my legs, as the dogs had done, but he was not seeking crumbs. A few seconds later I felt my robe being parted and my trousers being opened. Taken by surprise, I did not know what to say or do. The boys had been called here by the elder, who meanwhile shifted in his chair but continued to praise the new sultan and his liberal attitudes toward the people and I repeated the words of encouragement and of peace and prosperity that I had heard spoken earlier. The elder nodded and expressed his agreement with that prognosis. I inquired if he had met with any Christians, and when he replied that he had not, I informed him of my mission to spread the word of my faith, and I began to describe its basic tenets.

As I explained that I had come from a land far to the west, beyond the land of the Mohammedans, where we worshipped only one God and His Son, I felt a pair of hot, small hands slip under my backside and pull down my breeches and begin caressing the insides of my thighs. I explained that the reason I was travelling through these lands was to learn about new places and new people, and to bring the message about the existence of my God. As I did so, I felt what could only be the boy's hot breath on my crotch, which caused my member to stir, and moments later I felt his lips slip about my flaccid but swelling cock. The elder expressed great interest and wonder that there was only one god whereas his faith considered many, and he asked if my god had no brothers or sisters, or if he had them all killed, all the while behaving as if nothing was happening under the table. Considering what the one boy was doing to me, I found it difficult to believe the other boy was doing nothing.

By this time the boy had sat back comfortably on his haunches and was gently sucking on my still swelling cock like a babe at his mother's teat. I explained my god had no siblings, at least none that the Bible ever mentioned. The elder observed that the Mohammedans who now ruled his land were more interested in his country's jewels and in tribute from the villages and so long as the wealth flowed they did not care about the faith of the people and did not force their religion on them. I took that as a gentle warning and I replied he was fortunate for that was not the situation in other lands I had travelled through where the Mohammedans had replaced the government, and the priests with their own. The boy under the table ran his tongue along the rim of my knob, causing me to shift in my chair and to quiver with the pangs of arousal shooting through my swollen flesh.

The elder, I suspect noticing my distraction, turned the topic to that of pleasure and asked what my faith said about pleasure and about women, and he asked if we had legends about our one god concerning such things, and he talked about the many gods his people believed in and of their sexual exploits. He said he had met priests from the Far East who said their people believed in no gods at all and preached about the duties of each man, and he said in many of the kingdoms surrounding us the people believed their king was a god, and he asked if in my land we had a king, and if he was a god. I of course told him of King Manuel who ruled men and of the Holy Father who was concerned with the souls of men.

By this time my cock was throbbing hotly and jutting up from between my legs and the boy was sucking voraciously at it and slipping his lips up and down my shaft, a dog teasing a bone. The elder talked about gods being gods and kings being kings and that a man had to do what a man did regardless of kings and gods to provide a roof over his head and food in his belly, and that as long as a man gave kings and gods their due, neither cared what a man believed nor did. I wished to argue that was not so, that my King cared very much about his people and their lives, and the Holy Father was much concerned about all men and their souls, but by that time I had lost all ability to focus on an argument or even to just speak. And so the two of us ceased speaking and just sat there in the shade of the palm, conversation, tea and pastries forgotten as two boys crouched under the table and brought us pleasure as we did what men did.

I had great difficulty controlling my breathing as ripples of pleasure shot through my swollen flesh and my tender knob and seeing the elder was having the same difficulty, I made no effort to hide what I was feeling and gave in to the physical pleasure throbbing between my legs. I could not believe the two of us were sitting there in the shade getting sucked off by two village boys not yet in their teens. They were young, but not too young to know the consequences of their actions for the boy sucking me paused to allow my desire to subside, but only to prolong my pleasure, not end it. From the elder's breathing and the look in his eyes I knew he was approaching his climax and knowing that I could no longer hold back.

I knew I should warn the boy but it happened too quickly, and warning was not necessary. This was not a new experience for him, and he knew what was happening, and what was about to happen. And so I sat there and tensed as I felt the twang in my loins and as I felt my seed race up the core of my cock and spurt out the tip and into the young boy's mouth. He did not pause in what he was doing and he eagerly swallowed my seed, drinking my hot, thick offering and draining my balls, just as the other boy was doing to the village elder. Both of us panted and gasped with the pleasure, making no effort to hide what was happening.

The two boys drained us completely and as we sat there in a dazed bliss and our members began to shrink and droop, they slipped away. A short time later the elder adjusted his clothing and stood and thanked me for my visit and observed that it had been a delightful visit and wished me well in my travels, and I thanked him for listening to me and for his hospitality and I wished him well and headed on my way, returning to the city and my room to think about what had happened and what the old man had said. Men will do what men will do regardless of gods and kings. They will provide for their family and go about their daily routines. They will do their duty with women, and seek their pleasure with boys … and I suspect with melons. I wondered what Ferdazi would think of my day. Or the Nestorians. Or my King. Or the Holy Father. Or God. I had tried to do my duty. I honestly and truly had. (3)

I returned to Benghalla late the next day and re-joined Ferdazi, who, finding the trade market tightly controlled by the Mohammedans and agreements long-standing and difficult to penetrate, was ready to leave. So early the next morning he and I began to load our boat with the intention of seeking better markets to the south. As we were loading our trade goods a man approached us, a man as many years older than Ferdazi as I was younger, a thin man in the saffron robes of a Buddhist monk. He was carrying a beggar's bowl and Ferdazi was about to send him on his way, having no love for beggars or any man who did not do an honest day's work no matter what his physical disability or his faith, a sentiment I fully agreed with.

The man, however, had not come asking for alms, but offered to help us load our goods, and to serve as our interpreter, saying the word on the dock was that we were travelling south, the direction he himself was travelling, and asked only for one meal a day for his service. He said he was a mendicant, a bodhisattva, on a pilgrimage, and knew very well the languages in the south, which were very different. Ferdazi of course agreed, providing the man proved his worth, knowing nothing of the languages of the people we would be travelling to. Under the guise of a Hindu son of sailors from Anjediva Island, I could not very well claim that I could handle any new languages coming up and so I had to agree also.

And so we set sail for the city of Pegu in the Hanthawaddy Kingdom, a distance our interpreter estimated to be of about seven hundred leagues. He knew little of sailing but he prepared our meals, although he only partook of the morning meal as was his ritual, and he washed our dishes and assisted with the many little chores that need doing on a sailing ship and spelled us off on night watch and otherwise made himself useful. He was, we learned, from Lan Xang Hom Khao, which he said meant A Million Elephants and White Parasols, and that his land did indeed have so many elephants, and, he said with a smile, probably as many parasols. Neither Ferdazi nor I had heard of it but it appears to be a small kingdom to the southeast. (4)

The religion of his country and himself he called Theravada Buddhism, which he said was the original version of their faith and followed the true teachings of their prophet Buddha. As he talked about his faith, and what he said was the more open and liberal, and so inferior, branch that formed later, I sat in wonder that here was still another religion split by different beliefs and practices. Over a thousand years ago a schism in the church resulted in the west (Roman Catholic) and east (Byzantine Orthodox) churches, each choosing its own leader and following different practices. Around the same time heretical groups like the Nestorians also formed, further splitting the faithful. While travelling across the lands held by the Mohammedans, I found that their faith, Islam, also had two major branches, the Sunnites and Shiites, though the difference seemed more to do with Muhammad's successor, a common problem it seems also in their political organization and solved usually by assassination. As for the Hindus, I found many contradictory practices between what one Hindu does and thinks compared to another, or even contradictory practices within one individual's day.

You would think that all people of a faith would do and think alike. That was certainly the case of the religions of the great tribes across the Ocean Sea, that of the Tenocha, with whom I had become very well acquainted as a member of their priesthood, and that of the Tahuantinsuyu, although neither reached over such distances and consisted of such numbers of worshippers as the other faiths I have mentioned. You would think a god would make it very clear to his prophets what it was that he expected of his followers and what his followers were to believe. It was as if the gods, once creation was done, no longer cared and left their people to flounder. That was a most disturbing idea. Lost in my own thoughts, I must confess I missed much of what our new companion explained was the difference between his branch and the other.

From what I did hear, both religions believed in the never-ending cycle of birth, death and rebirth, the status of one's rebirth being better or worse in his present life depending on the deeds he did in his former life. In that Christians also believe that one's present deeds on earth will determine his future, if he will ascend to heaven, or descend into hell upon death, I found it not that difficult to believe what one does in this life will determine what happens after death. The concept of being reborn in a better or poorer life I found more difficult to believe, and that one could even be born as a lower life form, an animal, for bad deeds I found very difficult to accept.

The idea of a soul and life in heaven or hell after death is just as foreign to a Buddhist. Our new companion explained that most men die and are reborn and live their next life again on earth, and the only way to end that cycle is to follow a very strict and religious path, which was what he was doing. The average man, he admitted, is content to do good in this life so his next life will be a better one, but does not have the stamina nor the desire to lead the difficult life required to break that cycle. Only those who choose to be priests follow the very strict and very many rules which will improve him to the point where he can end this cycle and enter heaven, which he called Nirvana. This Nirvana, however, appears to be something very different from the Christian heaven.

Ferdazi was quick to enter the discussion to expound on his own faith, that of Zoroastrianism, a topic he had rarely mentioned until now. He was a very staunch believer which did not come as any great surprise to me, the man never doing anything halfway since I had known him. What I had not expected was the detail of his knowledge about his religion and his holy books, the Avesta. I did not know much about his faith and learned much over the next week. They worship a deity they call Ahura Mazda, Lord Wisdom, whom he said is supported by Spenta Mainyu, The Incremental Spirit, and six entities (good mind, truth [Asha], power, devotion, health and life). Spenta Mainyu, we were informed, has a twin, Angra Mainyu (Fiendish Spirit), who has aligned with Lie. Truth and Lie are found throughout the world and the heavens and are in constant conflict.

Zoroastrians believe that upon death a person's soul is judged at the Bridge of Discrimination and will enter Paradise or fall into Hell, very similar to our Christian belief. However, they also worship ancestral spirits, spirits of nature, and many other gods which from his description are similar to the many Vedic gods. One of the nature gods I learned during our conversations was Anahita, a fertility and river goddess, patron of healing, wisdom, and love, and which considering his many liaisons with women had to be Ferdazi's personal favourite. To my surprise I learned she was also a virgin mother, like Mary the mother of Christ, and that Zoroaster's mother was also a virgin, having conceived him after being visited by a shaft of light. With the similarities to the Christian faith I began to see Zoroastrianism in a different light, so to speak, until I found out that Anahita was also the patron of those in incestuous marriages, and she had congress with her son Mithra!

"Your religion believes that men who lay with men are demons and worship Daevas, the devil, does it not?" I asked, daring to come directly to the point and thinking back to what I had learned about Zoroastrians from Sultan Mahmud Mirza's catamites, and recalled in all its horror witnessing his followers clubbing to death a man accused of being a sodomite in the marketplace in Balkh.

"Most certainly," he said gruffly. "That is one thing we have in common with the Christians who abhor sodomites as much as we do, unlike the heathen Muslims who prefer a young boy's backside over a woman's puta if given a choice. I know in your faith," he said, looking directly at me, "that your gods are very confused about such things, sometimes taking on the form of a woman and other times taking on the form of a man, and that some couple with other men, even brothers with brothers. I also know among your people there are young men who even wear the clothing of women and act as women in every way, and I mean every way." He made no effort to hide his contempt for such young men, and for Muslims, causing me to count my blessings that he was unaware of my sexual preference and to resolve I would be thrice more careful about my leisure time in the future. "What does your faith say about such matters?" he asked our companion.

"Women are inferior and expected to remain virgin until their marriage, a commonly held belief by many faiths I am told. So, young boys experiment with each other. Such playing between boys is natural before they develop a special interest in another of the opposite sex and begin to think of marriage. Boys from the age of puberty on have a high degree of sexual freedom. Buddha and our sacred texts say little about such matters," he replied. "If sex play is willing and mutual, if it does not harm to anyone, then if they have congress or not, and in what form, and what their gender, does not matter. It is the same thing as breathing and sleeping. It is no harm. That is, that is the way for the common man, who is content to live a good life and return after death to a life still better. For a monk, things are very different. For a monk, a bhikkus, whether he lives in a wat or alone, all sex is taboo, a fetter. It does not matter if sex is with another man or a woman, if it is done for duty or pleasure, it is something that is not done, and if one desires to become an Arahant, a bodhisattva, is one of ten fetters one must cast aside."

"Cast aside?"

"Yes, unshackle, be freed of. There are ten fetters, ten impurities that bind a person to the cycle of birth and death and rebirth. Sensual desires, such as lust, hate and delusion, is one such fetter. The prophet Buddha has taught us that the fourth path of the Noble Eightfold Path to enlightenment and Buddhahood is to follow the path of right conduct. No killing, no injuring, no stealing, no material desire, no sex of any nature. Never."

"Never?"

"Never. It is the only way to escape the cycle and this earth."

Ferdazi gave a shudder. "No sex. Ever. That is worse than sodomy," he observed with a look of horror.

Ferdazi forego congress with a woman? For the rest of his life? Heaven forbid! Ferdazi glanced up at the sky and asked our companion if he or his people knew anything about forecasting the weather, and he began to discuss cloud formations and what they meant, changing the topic.

It took us ten days of sailing to reach our destination, and the winds and currents being favourable there was little that we needed to do, giving us plenty of time to talk. We spent many hours talking about Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, Christianity and Vedic Hinduism and I was thankful I had taken the time to learn about the latter during my time in Calecut. And, of course, being three men in the confines of a small sampan, we learned much about each other, especially temperament and interests. Our companion was sixty-six, a venerable age, few men in this part of the world living so long. He had entered the monastery at the age of seven and knew then that he would some day be an Arahant. He owned only three saffron robes, his alms bowl, a cloth belt, a needle and thread, and a blade for shaving his head. If not required to help with the sailing, he spent from midday to night chanting and meditating. It was not a life I would want to lead but I could not help admire his devotion and dedication. And his self-control. No sex? Never?

Finally we arrived at Pegu, the capital of the Hanthawaddy Kingdom, a very prosperous nation which had not one but three major centres including Pegu. Chen Phnom Louangngum, our companion, informed us that their present king, Binna Ran II, had massacred all the royal offspring upon his ascension to the throne six years ago. Getting rid of any possible claimants or rivals to the throne was not unusual, as anyone reading this journal well knows, and having become jaded, such news no longer disturbed me as it once had. What was amazing to me was that their monarch had done so openly, and that whichever of his subjects I talked to while we stayed at the kingdom, all praised him for his gentleness! As I have said before, strange and violent peoples occupy these lands, and the subjects of this kingdom are no different. (5)

Upon our arrival, we learned the king had been away touring his kingdom but was expected back the next day. Chen informed us that upon Binna Ran's ascension, Mingi Nyo of Toungoo, a vassal of the Kingdom of Ava to the north, raided the country expecting to take advantage of the chaos that comes with a change in government, but King Ran immediately sent a retaliatory force and had not been bothered again. This tour, Chen suspected, was a show of force of his army along his border as a reminder of his strength. For a man who preaches nonviolence, our interpreter had a good understanding of how governments and kings operate.

Chen also informed us this king had a chief queen and three senior queens, and at least three sons. Ferdazi wryly observed that this king might be an adherent of Theravada Buddhism but he was not about to cast aside the fetter of sensual desire, to which Chen responded that the first of the Four Noble Truths is that life is suffering and filled with pain from the moment of birth until the moment of death, and the only way to end suffering is to follow the Noble Eightfold Path. He added with a smile, that a man having four wives must suffer a lot, and perhaps the present king had not lead so good a life in his previous existence. I could not tell if he was serious or joking, and I do not believe Ferdazi did either.

The next morning Chen was good to his word and he helped us unload our wares for bartering and helped interpret, which was of great value for the language spoken by these people is very different from the Hindu and Arab languages we had been speaking, and although all merchants have a basic trade language, the merchants in the market had a very different accent and many different phrases which neither Ferdazi nor I had heard. The marketplace was very busy, the populace having come out expecting to see the return of their beloved king, and merchants from the city and surrounding countryside knowing that a populace in a celebratory mood had coin to spend.

Nobody was disappointed. The king, twenty-nine years of age, returned to his capital city carried in a litter with a roof gilded with gold and imbedded with rubies and sapphires and carried by eighteen shirtless, muscular carriers, their arms and chests glistening with oil and sweat, for me a sight as impressive as the litter they carried. He was followed by his war elephant adorned with jewels and gold bands and his personal guard smart in clean, crisp uniforms and carrying their swords unsheathed and gleaming in the brilliant sun. Also adorned with necklaces of sparkling jewels and bands of silver and gold, he waved to his adoring populace and the crowds cheered and bowed deeply before him. After the monarch and his guard had passed, the people returned to eating and drinking, and of course buying, much to the enjoyment of the market venders.

Upon seeing our goods, Chen had observed that this king would very much like to see them considering their high quality and uniqueness, especially our coral, and he made inquiries on our behalf and by the end of the day somehow had managed to arrange an audience with the king the following morning. Chen was not the only one impressed with our wares and we spent a very brisk and profitable day bartering at the market and we returned to our accommodations happy men. Although he himself had long ago freed himself from attachment to material things and desired none of our goods, following the Fifth Path of the Noble Eightfold Path, right livelihood, Chen was happy that we were happy.

Ferdazi had purchased us new clothes despite having barely worn those we had purchased in Benghalla, much to the amazement of our companion who having forsworn all material things, owned as I have said only three saffron robes. The next morning we headed to the palace wearing our very best and Chen with a fresh robe, declining Ferdazi's offer to buy him a fourth. Chen and the king met most cordially and without the usual pomp and ceremony and exchanged greetings, speaking too rapidly for me to understand, but Chen clearly admiring the king, and the king treating our mendicant and aspiring Arahant with the greatest of respect and reference as though an equal. This king is not as great a king as the ruler of Calecut, or the Emperor of Vijayanagara, but he is the most humane of the three, and spoke so softly and gently and in such a kind manner that even an infant would speak to him without fear, and he was the type of man who would take the time to kneel down and speak to an infant!

He was rich, even richer than the Emperor of Vijayanagara. He wore enough rubies on the day we met that their wealth was equal to the wealth of a large city. He wore rings of gold inlaid with rubies on all his toes and on all his fingers and gold bands inlaid with precious gems about his legs and arms, and his earlobes were stretched half a palm in length from the weight of the gems in them, reminding me of the nobles I had met across the Ocean Sea who wore huge cylinders of gold in their ears so that their earlobes had stretched. So many were his jewels that by torchlight at night he would have shone like a sun, and he could barely lift an arm or a leg because of their weight. We learned later that in one year what he received in tribute from vassal kingdoms and as his share in trade within the kingdom was equal to one million in gold. In addition to gems, including rubies from Capellan, spinels, yellow topaz, jacinth, and amethysts, the kingdom was a source of lac from which is made sealing wax and a red dye, sandal-wood, brazil-wood, cotton, and silk, all precious items.

We presented the king with a large piece of fine coral, the shades and colour unknown anywhere in this part of the world, and he was much astonished and greatly pleased. He was told by our interpreter that the coral was a gift as the Persian required only friendship and travelled only to see different people and customs and not for property. The king replied, as interpreted by Chen, that he knows Persians are very liberal but he knew no man as liberal as this man and he swore they will see who is the more liberal. Calling for a box two palms long and decorated with rubies, he opened it, revealing it was filled with rubies of every shape and size and of the highest purity, and he offered us whichever and however many we wanted.

We of course declined, and he grabbed our hands and filled them until we could carry no more, at least two hundred rubies between the two of us, and directed his steward to assign us three rooms in the palace for as long as we wanted. We were unable to say no of course and so we took him up on his offer. The rooms were huge and the furnishings reflected the king's wealth, which was meant to impress us, and to reflect his own generosity. Again Chen observed that his wealth and power had to be the result of having lead a very good previous life. He also observed if one did not wish to end the cycle of birth, death, and rebirth, then the life of this king was probably the next best thing. To be honest, sitting there surrounded by such luxury, I found it difficult to see why anyone would ever want to depart from this earth.

It was difficult to even want to depart from this kingdom. Each day we rose late and broke our fast with the most succulent and delicious foods, as much as we could eat, and after a leisurely morning we went to the market. Though not as busy as the first day, it was bustling and our stock was quickly dwindling. In late afternoon Chen left us to visit the many religious sites in the city and to meditate. Pegu's success is the result of many things. Being a river port, it can send foreign trade goods inland by water, and the interior can ship goods to Pegu for dispersal to other lands by seagoing vessels. A large proportion of its population is involved in fishing, which supports not only those in the city but the surrounding villages besides and its large foreign population of traders. Pegu is an old city and also a major religious centre and attracts Buddhists of both branches, who can also be fed by the fishermen and the rice farmers and who spend their money at the market.

The first night Ferdazi and I were the recipients of another liberality of the king, the offer of the night-time company of a concubine. The spoils of war included women, and this generous king gifted these women to generals of his army and nobles who supported his efforts, and to other worthy individuals such as ourselves. Chen of course had not been offered but Ferdazi readily accepted the king's gift, not wishing to offend him. When I declined the gift, the king assumed I too was following the Noble Eightfold Path that Chen was and so he did not pressure me, and Chen, assuming our discussions during our ten-day sailing to this kingdom had been an influence on me, was pleased with my discipline and refusal.

Our third day living at the palace I accompanied Chen to see the Shwethalyaung Buddha, a statue of Buddha lying down which according to Chen represents his last illness and waiting to die and enter parinirvana, which Chen explained is the state before Nirvana and from which nobody can return to earth. The statue was most impressive, a hundred feet long and fifty-two feet high, supposedly built five hundred years ago. From my time in Florence I knew how difficult it is to carve a statue from stone and as I stood there looking at it, I wondered who the sculptor was and I thought of Michelangelo and our congress with each other, and I wished he could be with me now and see this ancient, magnificent sculpture, and I wondered what he would say about it.

The next day I went with Chen to visit one of the many temples, which they call pagodas or wats, Shwemawdaw, a temple shaped like a hand bell, a stupa actually, which is what they call one which contains relics, in this case two hairs from Buddha supposedly given to two merchants, some of his teeth, and a bell from a recent king. These temples, I discovered, are more than buildings containing a stature of Buddha and used for worship and religious ceremonies. They range anywhere from two to twelve stories tall and are also shrines, memorials and tombs, and all life, in a village or a city, is centred around them. Besides shrines, memorial rooms, and tombs, these wats also have rooms where the monks live, rooms for meditation and solitary study, large rooms for instruction, and rooms where the public can meet. Chen would have preferred living in one of these wats, but he felt obligated to remain with us, and he did not wish to offend the king of this land by rejecting his offer of a place to stay.

The following day I accompanied him to still another temple. I could not help but notice the large gatherings of young boys, many in yellow robes in Shwemawdaw, and now in this temple, which was one of many teaching temples. These boys in yellow robes, Chen explained, were sāmanera, novices, some as young as seven, though one does not become a monk until the age of twenty. Parents sent their boys to these temples to live and become monks, often because they had too many children to feed themselves, but also because they are uneducated and at the wat their boys can be educated not just in the Buddhist religion but also in the history and culture of their country.

The other boys, wearing the outer robe or the body wrap, called a chong kben, are also sent to the wat to learn, but they return home at the end of the day and since they do not intend on becoming monks their training in the tenants of Buddhism is not as extensive. This training by the monks does not end with adulthood, and, Chen said, even married men, with the permission of their wives, can return to the wat for training for a period of weeks or months, or even a couple years. I thanked him for his explanation and company, but knowing he had come to this holy place to be alone and to meditate and seek the Four Noble Truths, and knowing I had to flee this holy place with its throngs of young boys before I profaned it, I made my farewell and hastened from the building.

Chen had given me much to think about on our journey to this kingdom, and I had no intention of satisfying my sensual desires while I was here, even after the king's offer of a concubine, nor even after seeing the dozens of young boys at the wat, but the devil finds ways to tempt, and I am weak by nature. The sight of so many young, innocent boys and fresh, smooth, untouched bodies, all of them looking so attractive with their hooded eyes and honey-brown complexions, in this particular place and time of my journey, caused my secret desire to rise with tenfold strength and urgency. I know many will condemn me for having such thoughts and desires in such a sacred place, but I must ask, where better for the devil to dwell and to strike a Christian than in a temple to a foreign god and a foreign prophet? This Buddha is seen as a prophet and an enlightened man, but he does not promote the one true God and His Son and despite his talk of leading a good and wholesome life, he does not speak of worshipping God. He is the Antichrist.

Or is he the one true Prophet? Are Peter and Mohammad the false prophets, leading us astray while this Buddha is showing us the way to be forever with God, to enter this state they call Nirvana? Is this a test he is placing before me, to see if I choose to cut myself free from the fetter of sensual desire in order to be worthy and leave this earth? Is he this day offering me a chance to become an Arahant and leave this world of suffering and enter their idea of heaven? Or is this abundance of boys actually a reward for having lived a good past life, just as this king has been rewarded riches beyond imagining and congress with not one but four women because he lead a virtuous past life? How can this prophet called Buddha offer both–salvation and undeniable pleasure?

"You are a stranger?"

The voice, young and high-pitched, interrupted my thoughts. Having hurried from the temple, I had paused for breath, and to collect my thoughts, in a flower garden with a fountain in front of it. I looked down at two boys of preteen age, two sāmanera, two honey-brown cherubs in yellow robes each with a shaved head and a slender arm, smooth chest, and pert nipple seductively exposed.

"Yes," I managed to say, my voice catching in my throat.

"A Bamar?"

"A Bamar?"

"A descendant of the first to live in this land, and who still live as they do. Many still live in the Kingdom of Ava."

"Why would you think I am a Bamar?"

"The men have long hair, like you, and wear earrings, and have marks on their arms and legs like you do."

I glanced down at my leg and at my arm. Despite all these months, I could not get this wrap around that they wear right. Both were exposed. "No, I am not a Bamar, and I am not from the Kingdom of Ava. I come from very far, a land where the priests mark their bodies as I have. I am here with a friend, a merchant, with a gift for your king."

"Then you are a priest," the one boy observed.

"Are you an Arahant?" the younger asked before I could respond.

"No."

"Not a Therāvadin."

"No."

"But you are on a pilgrimage, seeking enlightenment, like the man you came here with."

"Yes, I am on a pilgrimage, of sorts."

"These vines," said one, tracing a tattoo with his finger as it wrapped around my calf and on around my thigh, his finger disappearing under my robes, "do they end … at a root?" The younger boy giggled as he grasped the meaning of the older boy. The root, in this case, began to rise and the movement in my robes was quickly noticed by the two boys, who glanced at each other and grinned mischievously.

"I do not think you should be doing that," I said, pushing his hand away, but my tongue betrayed my heart and did not speak with the harshness it should have.

"In your religion a male must refrain from touching another male?"

"No, not exactly. But one does not touch another … in certain places," I began to explain but the older boy interrupted me.

"Nor in our religion," he said, referring to my first statement. "To touch another is to show love and caring and support."

"Unless one is a female. One must refrain from touching a female. Even a female animal," advised the younger boy solemnly.

"A female is different," the other boy added. "A female is unclean, and inferior. To touch a female would be to become impure oneself." The two boys shuddered at the thought. Yet I had seen in the city, and here at the wat, boys walking with their arms about each other's shoulder, or each other's waist, or holding hands.

"Did it hurt, to have your body marked so?"

"A little."

"Life is suffering," the oldest said wisely.

"May we see the rest of your markings?"

Would the fox like to guard the hen house? The boys had no idea of my temptation. Or perhaps they did. Boys are not so innocent. And perhaps another was putting the words in their mouth. Perhaps this was not a test for me, but a test for them.

"Must one not refrain from seeing another naked, especially for a boy to see a man?"

The two glanced at each other. "That is not one of the Ten Precepts," one responded disdainfully, as if slighted by being asked a question with such an obvious answer. "One must be naked to bathe, or to sleep, or change robes. We see our masters naked every day, and they see us."

"Well, I cannot expose myself here, in the open, for all to see."

"There are many private places in the wat," the older boy replied, extending his hand.

How could I resist? Besides, there was no sin in looking. As I rose I took the boy's hand and the younger boy took my other hand and the two lead me back into the temple No one paid the slightest attention as we walked hand in hand down one of the many corridors and entered one of the many small rooms which I learned were used for prayer or meditation. Nobody would ever enter one that is occupied. The older boy untied the curtain and it fell in place over the door and the two boys turned to me expectantly. As I unwrapped my chong kben I knew what I was doing was wrong and where it would lead. These two boys were novice monks in the name of God! I told myself it was only for them to see my tattoos but my member was not fooled any more than was I. The two boys stood there and admired my tattoos, and my member.

"Your snake rises to greet us," the younger boy observed with a giggle.

"It is a large snake," observed the other.

"Larger than any of the masters," the other agreed.

"It wishes to be stroked."

"You may," said the older boy, giving me permission.

"Can we watch?"

"I know one must not have sex in order to end the cycle of suffering."

"Stroking one's snake is not having sex. Sex requires two people. And stroking another's snake is not sex either. One must rid one's body of seed. Or it will happen in one's sleep."

"Far better to be awake and enjoy it when it happens."

"It will happen anyway."

"We know how to make it spit."

"We can make it spit for you. That is not something to refrain from."

"Besides, we are sāmanera. Maung will not be a monk for twelve years."

"And Piakaou for thirteen."

"And you are definitely not a female," Maung observed as my now erect snake wagged at him and Piakaou giggled.

How could I refuse? "Show me what you have learned."

The two boys glanced at each other excitedly, eyes bright and lips curled into smiles. And so the two boys stood there and grasping my snake, Maung below the bulb and Piakaou above my stones, together they began to stroke. I had to stop them in forty strokes or my snake would be spitting. The boys glanced at each other and grinned wider, knowing why I had stopped them. Maung even grasped my snake and choked it below the head. This was not something the boys were unfamiliar with. In fact later they both admitted doing the very same thing, together and individually, with several of the monks, and again, they repeated adamantly that to stroke one's snake or that of another was not considered a sexual act.

Having recovered as best I could, I allowed the two boys to continue, and this time the two switched positions of their hands. Having two young boys studying my cock intently, their hot little hands squeezing it and stroking it together, it was not long before I reached that peak once again, and warning the boys, I let them continue. Seconds later I felt my seed racing up the core of my swollen cock and it spurted out the tip with a force and volume that clearly impressed the two boys. That was no surprise to me considering the circumstances, and the fact that I had not released my seed for two weeks. The boys held my throbbing, spurting cock until the pressure subsided and my pearly-white seed oozed out the tip of my blood-engorged cock and down over the slender fingers of the two boys. They squeezed my cock tightly and milked out the remainder of my seed.

"It is hot, and slimy," observed Piakaou, and Maung agreed.

I was very tempted to return the favour for the two boys but they had remained clothed, and they had engaged in my sin in order to see me ejaculate my seed, not to bring me pleasure, nor in the expectation I would do the same to them and bring them pleasure. Besides, even if they were telling the truth and the act of onanism was not considered a sexual act, and I could tell from the expression of their faces and the tone of their voices that they sincerely believed it to be true, they were novice priests. If one had suggested it, I would not have refused, but I had led them far enough down the path of perversion and was not about to take the initiative. None of us spoke as I slowly recovered from my experience.

"We can make your snake spit another way," Maung observed. "May we watch it another time?"

The two boys were a boy-lover's dream. What lover of boys could possibly say no to such a request? I nodded my consent. The two boys glanced at each other with happy and eager grins. "But you have seen me naked. If it is not to be refrained, I would see your naked bodies." The two quickly removed their yellow robes and openly exposed themselves. Their little cocklets were limp and the size of my small finger and their little stones the size of walnuts. They stood there unabashedly and proud to be males.

Having me stand, the two boys knelt before me on the prayer mats and it was evident what they were intending on doing. They took turns licking my member, which had begun to swell the moment they had discarded their robes to reveal their slender, smooth, honey-brown bodies and was swelling now even faster. Soon it was standing upright and large enough for the two young boys to both lick it without needing to take turns. They did so eagerly and expertly, leading me to suspect that this was not a new experience for either also, and wondering just what these supposedly holy monks did at nights, knowing what many holy men and even more not so holy men did when having access to groups of eager and prurient young boys. They lathered my swollen cock with their saliva and then ran their hot, eager tongues through each other's spittle, sucking it up and swallowing the mixture of their saliva flavoured with my cock.

While one licked my swollen member the other slipped his mouth about my stones and sucked on them, and while one slipped his lips over my bulb and gently sucked on it the other nuzzled the inside of my thighs. They took turns swirling their hot tongues around the rim of my bulb, intrigued by its lack of a hood, and they ran their tongues around the sensitive skin below my bulb. Again they revealed their experience when one and then the other slipped his mouth over my bulb and tightened his lips below it, curbing my desire to squirt once again, but despite the force and volume of my first ejaculation, I was soon ready to spit once more. Neither boy was capable of going all the way down my shaft, but they gave it a valiant try, and as each sucked on my swollen cock he slipped his lips up and down the shaft. When one's mouth was filled with cock-flavoured saliva he sat back and swallowed and savoured it while watching his companion take over and continue sucking my cock. I noticed that both boys were stiff also, and that neither had touched himself. They were clearly deriving as much pleasure sucking my cock as I was from being sucked.

After delaying my release twice, they had me lay on my back and kneeling on each side of me they continued stimulating my stiff cock until I could not hold back. I warned them and they sat back and watched as my cock began to spurt, my swollen member squirting like a fountain and my seed spurting straight up in the air to fall back down and baste my throbbing cock. The two boys immediately leaned forward and began to lap up my seed, their hot tongues lapping up the streamers of pearly cream as my slime oozed down over my swollen bulb and down my shaft. They licked up my cream eagerly, and they bowed their heads and sucked up the pools of creamy seed where it had puddled over my naked body. Watching the two boys sucking up my seed caused my cock to squirt even more and I groaned and sighed with the pleasure of another powerful ejaculation.

As the pressure decreased and my seed began to stream out of my slit and ooze down over my bulb, the two boys again took turns slipping their mouths over my bulb and drinking my seed directly, and then sitting back and savouring it while the other did likewise, the two boys drinking up my seed and then sucking on my numb cock, draining my cum until my balls were drawn up tight and could produce no more. At last I lay there with my chest heaving and my face flushed with the heat of my ejaculation and the two boys sat back contentedly, their smooth lips glistening with a film of my fresh slime.

"There is a third way," Maung said some time later. "If you can do it two more times."

"Two more?" I asked, my voice reflecting my exhaustion.

"It would require you do each of us individually. But if you think you can do it only once more, then you can choose one of us to go first in case you are right."

"I do not think two more times will be a difficulty," I replied with a weak smile.

"You must have been a very immoral and lustful whore in your past life," observed Maung.

"Why would you say that?" I asked, surprised by his comments, and by his choice of words.

"It is because you had such a great amount of female sexual desire and activity in your last life that when you were reborn there was so much female karma it has carried over to this life even though in this life you are a man, and that female karma is making you desire sex with another male so eagerly. Only a man who desires men or boys as badly as a woman does could squirt so often and so much with another male."

"But you must have been a very good woman in your past life," observed Piakaou as I pondered Maung's statement, "to be rewarded in this life to have a body of a man."

"That is true. Only a woman who is reborn as a man can hope to achieve Nirvana."

My craving for young boys was because I was a sexually active woman in my past life? And I lead such a good life as a woman as a reward I was reborn a man, making it possible for me to follow the Noble Eightfold Path to Nirvana? I shook my head. Never had I ever heard of such things. My Christian faith, and what I knew of the Islamic faith, condemned a man for lusting after another man, and even worse, for lusting after young boys. Such lust was the work of Satan and in that it was a common practice among the debauched heathen Arab race our clergy held up the practice as even more proof that such behaviour was the work of daemons and to be condemned. It was a weakness. That my lust for boys was the result of living a good life as a woman previously and seen as a reward was contrary to every belief I have ever had! (7)

I tried to focus on what the two young boys had said but the two were busy arousing me for the third time, and given their precocious and prurient behaviour it was impossible to concentrate on their comments while they were fiddling with my cock and eager to make me squirt once more. Needless to say, my aching, throbbing cock stimulated the flow of those lustful humours that flow deep in a man and soon I could focus on nothing other than my swollen, throbbing flesh and the anticipation of another powerful ejaculation under the hands of these two beautiful, naked and eager boys. When it comes to the mind versus the cock, the latter wins out every time.

I had no idea what the intention of the two boys was, but once they had my cock stiff again what they had in mind became clear. The two worked up gobs of saliva which they drooled over my stiff, projecting cock, and spreading his legs and pulling apart his ass cheeks, Maung bent over as young Piakaou worked up a mouth of spittle, applied his lips to his companion's anus, and blew his saliva up the eight-year-old boy's rectum. Then, as I lay there on my back, Maung straddled my body and slowly lowered his as Piakaou held up my cock so that the older boy impaled himself on my spit-slick member. Flexing his legs, he slowly sank down until he was sitting in my lap, my stiff cock embedded up his ass to the hilt. This eight-year-old boy had taken my entire cock up his ass.

Straightening his legs, he slowly eased up on my shaft and then paused and slowly sank back down. He continued these erotic knee bends totally unassisted, riding my stiff cock which was throbbing and aching up his hot, moist rectum. Not only that, he tightened his anus as he rose and then relaxed the muscle as he sank back down. This was not the boy's first time! His young companion asked how it was and he said it was fantastic, and that never had his rectum felt so full and never had his anus been stretched so wide. The younger boy observed that his companion was erect, and Maung said that he would soon have another orgasm. He was not the only one and shortly thereafter I inhaled deeply and felt my seed once again race up the core of my swollen cock. It spurted up his rectum with as much force as the first time I had released my seed that night, and the boy gasped that I was flooding his rectum with my seed, and that he could feel it squirting deeper up his bowels than any man had ever squirted, causing both boys to giggle.

Gasping loudly and perspiring profusely, the two of us finally separated and we collapsed there on the prayer mats in total exhaustion and bliss. The boy beamed over at me filled with joy, his chest rising and falling, his cheeks flushed and his eyes clouded with his own orgasm and I smiled back at him and closed my eyes and savoured the moment. I do not know when I last felt such peace and bliss. From the way I was feeling, this truly had to be a reward.

"Are you sleeping?" asked a worried voice.

I looked up into the concerned face of Piakaou. "No. Do you wish to ride like Maung, or do you wish to drop to your hands and knees and do it like two dogs in the street?"

"I am young. You just continue to lie there and rest," he advised as if talking to an elderly man.

He smiled, but he was also sincere. I was not sure how I should feel by the comment. I was three times older than he, but I was only twenty-two. The two boys set to work fiddling with my cock once more, stroking it and licking and sucking it, and once again my member rose up and for a moment I was reminded of the story about Saint Thomas's hand. It was only a momentary thought. That I was quickly rising once again was no great surprise, and no miracle. Soon the two naked little devils had me erect once more, and once more I lay on my back. Maung held up my cock, grasping it just below the bulb, and this time Piakaiu squatted above me and ever so slowly descended.

The boy was less experienced, and a year younger, and much tighter. He grunted and I snorted as we strained to unite, but lust gradually won out and ever so slowly I felt my stiff cock sink up his rectum. Like Maung, he sank down until he was sitting in my nest of hairs, and then he began to straighten his legs, rising up until my knob was at the exit of his channel, and then he slowly sank back down. Even at his age I do not know if I could do knee bends so easily and effortlessly, but then at his age I knew nothing about sex and certainly nothing about riding a man's cock. He was tight and his rectum hot and moist, and I closed my eyes and sighed with the pleasure as this naked, perverted little boy, seven years of age, rode my stiff, throbbing cock. Having ejaculated three times, it took me much longer to reach my climax this time, but having my aching cock up the hot ass hole of a seven-year-old child and being watched by his eight-year-old friend, I was not surprised to feel the build-up of pressure in my loins.

So once again I felt my seed race up the core of my cock, and as I filled the rectum of this young boy he gasped and snorted and bounced as his own dry orgasm struck, sending shards of sharp pleasure through his groin and the bulb of his swollen little cock just as the bulb of my cock burned as if stabbed by a thousand pins and my slit burned as once again I spurted my seed, flooding the young boy's rectum, much to the delight of both of us.

I do not remember leaving the two boys nor what they or I said. I was totally oblivious to anyone around me and do not know how I managed to find my way back to the palace and to my room. I do remember seeing my pallet with great delight and dropping off in a deep, contented sleep.

"Nikaar! Nikaar! Wake up! We must get out of here! Now! Please, Nikaar!"

I opened my eyes and stared into the face of Chen Phnom Louangngum. His eyes were wide with fear, his voice high and shrill. He was shaking me violently.

"Grab your clothes and flee! There is no time to take anything else. We must flee or it is our heads."

"Ferdazi-."

"I have already aroused him. He is dressing. Come, grab your clothes. We must run before they stop us. Come!"

I scrambled into my clothes as Chen glanced about my room. Grabbing my sword and scabbard he thrust them at me. I strapped the scabbard on and glanced about the room for my belongings.

"No time! No time! They have gone to tell the king your secret! He will have your head! Run!" I grabbed my dagger and two packs, and followed him out the door. He already had his backpack. Ferdazi emerged from his room, his scimitar in one hand, one pack in the other hand and one on his back, and a stack of robes draped over his arm. Chen took the pack he was carrying in his hand and we fled down the corridor and past the puzzled guards at the main doors to the palace, Ferdazi mumbling and grumbling about being woken and Chen subserviently apologizing as we disappeared into the night.

Chapter 22
Tarnasseri 

Fleeing to the city of Tarnasseri, Nico meets a dancer, a Kathoey, Pak Mun, 17-18, a man who dresses and acts as a woman and is considered to be a third sex, and he has congress with him and a friend, Tay Ba 13-14. He learns about spirit houses and the practice of suttee and upon performing in a play, a noble, impressed by his voice, shows his appreciation by offering to have him teach his 10 yo slave boy man-boy sex to make him more useful. 

Codes: M/t 

Characters: Pak Mun, Tay Ba, slave boy 

We hurried down the street as fast as we could, alternating walking and running. It was early morning and still pitch black outside. The streets were deserted so we did not have to worry about drawing attention to ourselves. Racing down the main street and through the empty bazaar, we headed directly to the harbour and throwing our things aboard our sampan we climbed in after them. Chen quickly untied our moorings and we quickly and quietly rowed out of the harbour, the other ships unoccupied or those on board still sound asleep. A small sampan slipping past in the night was no need for alarm for those standing guard over the cargo of the larger craft. We were soon out of the bay but there was no wind so Chen and I continued to furiously row while Ferdazi turned us south.

I had no idea what had happened. I tried to recall Chen's words. He had said "they have gone to tell the king your secret." They meant more than one. He had to have meant the two boys, Luang and Piakaou. What secret they had gone to tell the king was obvious. But why? They had been willing participants. They had been the ones to initiate what we had done! They had enjoyed it. But they were novices. The Third Precept. "I undertake the Precept to refrain from sexual activity." They were not yet monks, but even as novices and even at their young age they were expected to follow the Ten Precepts. Once the lust had subsided and they realized what they had done they had probably felt guilty. Once my blood cooled and the lust humours evaporated I did. But why go to the king? Why not one of the priests, one of their teachers? This religion did not seem to have deacons or bishops or whatever. It did not matter. This was my fault. "I undertake the precept to refrain from sexual activity." Re-frain from-sex. Re-frain from-sex. I repeated it over and over with each oar stroke.

Ferdazi was cursing loudly behind us. I had never heard him so angry. Many of his words were in Persian and I did not recognize them. His curses, like himself, were very colourful and imaginative. "The lying son of a female dog! Fat greedy greasy pig. A gift for you my esteemed friend, may the Buddha smile upon you. Stab me in the back while you smile in my face!" Stab-me-in-the-back. Smile-in-my-face. I dug my oar into the ocean in time with the words, over and over. Chen said nothing but I remembered the fear in his eyes when he had woken me. I had not known him that long but in the short time I had, I had never seen such fear in his eyes. Although three times my age he rowed just as hard. The eastern skyline slowly began to lighten and ever so slowly the sun poked up above the horizon, sending golden and crimson beams across the black ocean, driving away the shadows, but still we rowed in time with Ferdazi's curses. The sun lifted up above the horizon but still we rowed until at last a light breeze from the north picked up and we hoisted our sail and took a much needed rest from our labours.

Chen drew up a bucket of sea water and we soaked our hands, the salt water causing our blisters and raw flesh to burn. Ferdazi looked at his blistered, bleeding hands and bemoaned their condition and observed that they were made for softly caressing a plumb breast, not grasping a tiller all night. I wanted to apologize and to make amends. I wanted to assure him that I had no idea my actions would result in this, but deep in my heart I knew my actions that night were wrong and that they would lead to trouble, though I had not really thought so far as to the possibility they would also get my companions in trouble. I should have. The two boys were novice monks, destined to be holy men, and I had caused them to stray from their sacred path. I was surprised that Ferdazi had not tossed me overboard in his fury. Or clubbed me to death with one of the oars. I would not be the first sodomite ever clubbed to death by a Persian. Taking a deep breath, I turned to him and opened my mouth to speak.

"That greedy, conniving son of a female dog!" he spat. "I will find a way to get my revenge." He looked at his palms sorrowfully.

"You must put such thoughts out of your mind," Chen said calmly. His voice was comforting and understanding, not reproving. "You must calm yourself and try not to think of causing ill will. The man was motivated by the most common fetter of all, by his obsession for material things, his obsession for wealth. The Buddha has taught us that we must reject our attachment to all material possessions if we are to escape this earth. And the man has consciously chosen to cause you ill will by seeking your secrets so he might reveal them and cast you in poor light. He has done so out of resentment and hostility. The Buddha has said that the fetter of ill will and hatred is an impurity that binds us to the cycle of birth and rebirth. This man who has done you wrong can only be expected to return in a life worse than his present one."

"Then may he return as a dung beetle. And I will be gracious and give him a large possession he can roll to his heart's content and may the blessing of the Prophet, sacred is His name, be upon him so his next life be a long one," Ferdazi sputtered.

Chen tried to stifle his laugh but was unsuccessful, and a moment later Ferdazi chuckled at his comment as he pictured presenting the man his gift and the man with his human head but the body of a dung beetle, his description of the image causing Chen to laugh openly, the first I have ever heard the old man express any emotion, and Ferdazi to laugh louder at the sound of Chen's mirth.

"So what are you talking about?" I asked, unable not to chuckle despite my confusion.

"That fat gem merchant, Saloum Fa Choi, of the three chins," said Ferdazi. "He greeted me with such praise and sweetness, all the while jealous and angry because of his King's favouritism toward us, and afraid he might lose his trade agreements to me." He took a deep breath. I recalled the man and his obsequious behaviour. "He sent me a concubine last night, one of his own, saying it was a gift to show his esteem, and she was a gorgeous and, I might add, skilful bit of sweetness, if you forgive me for saying so, Chen, might I have your stamina and willpower. But what I did not know was that she had orders to search our rooms, mine, Chen's and yours, for any evidence he might use to discredit us, and especially myself."

"And?"

"She found the guarantee of passage signed by the Emperor of Vijayanagara among my things. She was a woman and of course illiterate, but she recognized the seal. She was from one of the kingdoms to the north of Vijayanagara, captured and taken to Benghalla as a slave, and then given as a gift to a noble in Pegu who tired of her and gave her to Fa Choi. As soon as I fell asleep she went straight to Fa Choi, who knew enough Hindi to know the significance of the permit, and he of course took it straight to the king in his eagerness to be rid of me, but it was past midnight and nobody was about to disturb the monarch no matter how urgent Fa Choi said the message was, and the fat conniving son of a mongrel bitch not as powerful nor important in the eyes of the king or the court as he thought he was. An advisor, however, eager to please the king himself, and always alert to ways to do so, took the document. Vijayanagara is well known here and feared even though it is many miles across the bay. There is no doubt that as Chen here was waking us the advisor was waking his king, or more likely sending guards on his own to arrest us as spies for Vijayanagara and to hold us until his monarch awoke. The fear of Emperor Narasimha Raya is great and the possession of his guarantee of passage would be enough to suspect us of spying for him. And spies, when caught, have no more use," Ferdazi concluded, drawing his pointer finger across his throat.

"I see," I said, relieved but still confused, "how is it that you came by this information?" I asked Chen.

Chen smiled. "Saloum Fa Choi is a very devout Theravādin. Though he was certain what would happen, he knew the gods are capricious and spirits of ill-will are everywhere, so leaving the palace he went straight to the wat to leave a very generous donation with a priest there, knowing the Buddha does not expect tribute but it never hurts to show one's devotion. Of course it was late and the senior priest asleep, but an acolyte accepted the gift and in his innocence of the way such gifts are received, asked if he might tell the elder why the wat had received such a valuable gift. Of course Fa Choi was eager to tell the world of the great service he had just done the king, and so he began by telling the acolyte what a great and magnanimous person he was."

"But how did you learn of all this?"

"You have two very great admirers. I do not know what your interaction was with them," he said, waving his hand when I opened my mouth to speak, "and I do not know what two boys of such a young age were doing awake and listening in on conversations of their betters at such an hour," he continued, though I am certain he was very much aware of the nature of boys such as those two, and what their interaction had been with me, and why they were eavesdropping on the conversation of adults, "but they overheard, and they knew you were a friend and companion of Ferdazi, and that you had come to the wat with me. They also knew that I was still there and they came directly to me. Though they are young and sāmanera, they recognized Fa Choi's greed and his intent to cause you ill will, and they did not wish ill will to fall, especially upon you. As soon as I heard what they had to say, I rushed to Ferdazi to warn him, and then you."

"I am in your debt, as we both are," I said, glancing at Ferdazi. "In my pack are the rubies the King insisted we take. You have earned the largest and finest of them." To that Ferdazi readily agreed and indicated that he too had managed to flee with them in his possession.

"No," Chen protested, waving his hand. "I can take only what I need to buy food, and I already have enough to make me as fat as Fa Choi!" To that we all laughed.

And so we continued to sail south for a total of eight days, giving the three of us plenty of time to continue our discussion and comparison of our faiths, I interjecting concepts of the Christian faith that I continued to claim I had learned from visiting Christians. It also gave me much time to consider the most recent events. My encounter with the two boys had been most fortuitous, for myself and for my companions. From what I could understand from Chen, the Buddha did not care if men had sex with men, or with boys, unlike the prophets Peter or Mohammad, or God or Allah. The fact one has sex condemns him to the cycle of birth and rebirth. With whom or what is immaterial.

Good things came of my connection with the boys, the escape of the three of us and the failure of Fa Choi to have us arrested, so my previous life had to have been a good one for us to be so rewarded, and in that I had been the reason for good things happening to us now, I likely would be reborn in a still better life. That could even mean embarking on the Noble Eightfold Path, and perhaps refraining from sexual activity altogether. As I lay back in the warm sun and enjoyed the fresh breeze blowing us to our next destination, I could not decide if that would be a good thing, or a bad thing.

After eight days of sailing, we arrived at the city of Tarnassari in the Kingdom of Ayutthaya. We had sold all our goods in Pegu except for some corals, some saffron, and some rose-coloured cloth from Florence which we had obtained in barter, all of which was in the sampan and under guard. I had considered keeping my share of the latter and sending it to my mother, wife, and sisters. The jewels I had collected on our journey and the spices, medicines and other possessions I had collected had been stored on the sampan or had been in my pack, Ferdazi had fled with his jewels and coin, and Chen always had with him his few possessions, so none of us had left anything of value behind. Ferdazi bemoaned leaving behind some of his favourite robes, but on the other hand he saw this as an opportunity to buy new ones, always a grand adventure for him. He was eager to discover new lands and make new trade contacts so was not disappointed in having had to leave, and Chen, having visited his shrines, was eager to visit lands under control of Hindu and Arab rulers for his further enlightenment. Life was good and we were eager to see what Tenasserim had to provide. (1)

Tenasserim is, I discovered, a major trade centre in the Ayutthaya Kingdom, conveniently situated on a narrow isthmus with the ocean to the west and east of the city. Ayutthaya, I also discovered, had friendly relations with a great number of nations and welcomed foreign traders, some of which I had not even heard of, and each had set up a community beyond its walls. We had arrived in the cool, dry season, which was still plenty warm for me being close to the warmest days in my homeland, and preferred by the merchants over the heat and rain which would follow so the city was particularly busy. Like Pegu, many of the people were Buddhist and there were many Buddhist temples. Their king had absolute power and was considered a god by his people, an incarnation of Vishnu the Destroyer of Demons and Defender of the people by the Hindu population, a position not unlike that of the Impersonator which I had filled while with the Tenochca, the Impersonator representing the god and treated as though he were him. The king also strictly followed the teaching of Gautama Buddha and was considered a Bodhisattva. How he could be both Hindu god and Buddhist prophet I could not understand but his followers had no problem with the idea. In addition there was a sizable population of the other Buddhist faith, Mahayana, and of Islam.

The kingdom was divided into principalities ruled by members of the royal family, there being many in that these people practice polygamy and so have many children. Finding spouses and gainful employment was a common problem. Smaller and more remote principalities were ruled in the king's name by descendants or former officials of defeated rulers. There were, I discovered much to my excitement, many men in the city from legendary Cathay who had taken local Siamese wives and so had easy movement across the kingdom and controlled most of the trade. The possibility of meeting these men, and the remoter possibility of seeing their fabled land, after all this time, made all of what had transpired worth the troubles and the danger I had endured. I had travelled thousands of leagues to the west, by sea and by land, in search of their kingdom, and I had risked rounding the cape of storms and suffered the cruelty and arrogance of the General and the heat of this land of devil-worshippers, and to be this close to achieving my goal left me with a rapturous joy and apprehensive anticipation.

Becoming familiar with the city our first full day, and of course buying new clothes under the guidance of my travelling companion, the next two days we checked out the state of trade. The markets were extremely busy with so many different traders coming and going, but many had long-time relationships, and trade, as I said, was controlled by the men from Cathay with local wives so new traders had to have something different to market, which we did not except for our coral. One merchant seemed particularly eager to deal with us, which seemed strange, but before we made any contact Ferdazi had moved on and I had to follow. The next day Ferdazi and I went our separate ways and I dressed in my new clothes, took my panpipes, and sought out an unoccupied but promising corner to ply my other trade, that of entertainer. I did so for several reasons. Though I had sufficient wealth to live comfortably, I still had far to travel to reach my goal, and inestimable expenses before I reached home. Besides, the wealth I carried was not only for myself, but for family, king and church. Most importantly, I had learned from Father and Uncle long ago that in order to make wealth, one had to have wealth, and I had not yet finished my conquest for new trade.

Wealth, however, was only one reason, and a small one. I know of no better place to obtain information than the marketplace, and everyone, noble, common man, bonded man, and slave, enjoys being entertained, and speaks more freely when happy. And for a third and fourth reason, I found great pleasure in entertaining and having no goods I had nothing to trade, and I was not the type of man to sit and do nothing. So, while Cheng meditated and sought out fellow monks, and Ferdazi contacted the local gem merchants, I stood on the corner with my cup at my feet and played my pipes. As I had expected, I drew a crowd of appreciative listeners.

One of these was an individual dressed in what appeared to be layers of strips of silk and wearing a sheer veil, dangling crystal earrings, and a thin plain circlet with an emerald to hold her long, dark, luxuriant hair in place. Her eyes, with long, feathery lashes, were outlined with kohl and her fingernails were long and painted green. She was carrying a cymbal and was swaying in time to my music. I motioned for her to perform and she rose and motioned for me to play. As I did, she began to dance and shake her cymbals in time with my panpipe. She moved gracefully and seductively and as she danced she seductively showed the occasional bare arm or leg or shoulder, much to the delight of the crowd, especially the men who tossed even more coin in my cup. After several dances, she bowed and sat beside me and motioned for me to continue. After several more tunes, I put my pipe away and offering her a share of my cup, asked my fellow entertainer if she knew where I could find something cold to drink, and if she would join me. She declined my offer of coin and answered in the affirmative to both questions.

From the way she had moved and from the tone of her voice I had a suspicion, and I discovered that I was correct. My fellow entertainer, Pak Mun, dancer and cymbal player, was a male, four or five years younger than myself. Being from the city, he knew where to obtain good food at a reasonable price, which was not far away, the corner I had chosen to entertain being, as I had suspected from experience, in the more affluent section of the city, and we talked about the city and life in general, and ourselves in particular. I explained that I had come from far away to the west and north, and that at one time I too had earned my way by dancing, as a koçek, and that a member of the troupe I was with was particularly beautiful and also danced and dressed as a female, and was much appreciated. He asked if he was appreciated for more than his dance and his beauty and I knew what he meant and said that he was, and that I was also.

Pak Mun said he was Kathoey, one who was a male in body but had the desires and interests of a woman, including dressing as one. He said that there were some, particularly elders in the villages, who said that in the beginning the Creator created a man, a woman, and a Kathoey, which is a third sex. The man and Kathoey mated but could not produce children and the man loved the woman so the Kathoey killed the woman in jealousy. The Creator was angry and so killed the man and Kathoey, and again created the three, and again the man and Kathoey mated but could not produce children, and again the Kathoey killed the woman, and the Creator killed the man and Kathoey as he had the first two. The Creator tried a third time, but this time he took the Kathoey aside and explained that the man could love both, but he could not kill the woman or they would not perpetuate their race, and so it was. Those who believe this believe simply that a Kathoey is another form of being, a third sex.

He said that others feel he and those like him stem from the phi-sang-thewada, lower class spirits from a former life, and so look upon them with pity as they do anyone reborn lower than they were before. There are still others, he said, that despise and hate them. "But all men," he concluded with a smile, "like the pleasures we can bring." While we ate, we were joined by several of his friends, fellow entertainers, musicians, dancers, singers, and acrobats, and he introduced me to them. As we sat and talked I thought of the Gilman Entertainers whom I had joined what seemed like many years ago and I thought of the good times we had, and the bad, and I thought how all over this world things are the same. The koçek too were revered by some, hated by others, and seen as natural by still others, and there were men who loved them openly and others secretly and still others who despised them. And as I sat there I wondered if that was because we were all created by one and the same Creator, or if all Creators followed some similar plan, a master recipe as it were. (2)

That night we had sex. That had not been one of my reasons for entertaining in the streets, but nor was it totally unexpected, entertainers tending to be young, or at least banding together with others close to their age, and more than the usual number having a preference for their own gender, or at least being more tolerant of such relationships. Pak Mon's friends certainly were and when we retired to where they were staying at the end of the day they paid us no mind as we embraced and kissed. Like me, he had little body hair and he was surprised at my lack, saying most western men he knew were very hirsute, and he did not try to hide his distaste of hairy men. We retired to the roof of the building where it was cooler and where he had his own private space curtained off with beautiful and colourful silks

As we undressed each other, he of course discovered my tattoos and I of course had to explain their purpose and origin. I had been required to do so frequently by then and did so without hesitation and without much thought, knowing what people wanted to know and what to say without raising more questions and things that I might not wish to reveal. Many were the times that I rued the day that I had begun marking my body so, especially when the origins of my tattoos were not so easily explained when I had to disguise my true background, but there were just as many times that because of their presence I found myself in a more favourable situation. So it was in this instance as they not only fascinated my new acquaintance but enhanced his arousal.

Like many boys of this country his caramel skin and fine features belied his age and his experience which aroused me just as my tattoos aroused him so the two of us quickly became erect and had to progress slowly and carefully. We pleased each other with gentle caresses and with our lips and tongues, both taking advantage of the smoothness of each other's body. These people were hooded, not having the covenant with the Buddha that we did with our God, and the boy was just as curious about my lack of a hood as I was in what it was like to have one. And so we pleased each other orally, laying on the roof in each other's arms and duelling with our tongues and sucking on and arousing each other's nipples, and then reversing in direction and nuzzling and sucking on each other's stones and each other's erect member.

He was generously built, something which I have not found typical of this race and so the discovery was much to my delight. He was skilled with his tongue, which was even more to my delight, and I squirmed with pleasure as he ran his tongue about the rim of my cock, sending pangs of pleasure through my swollen flesh. Much to my surprise he was not content to arouse me with his tongue and lips as most boys do, but he pulled apart my ass cheeks and tongued my crack and my anus, which despite my initial revulsion, to my surprise I found most stimulating. I was hesitant to do the same to him, but finding pleasure in his actions, and feeling obligated, I copied him and found much to my delight that his anus neither tasted nor smelled as I had expected. Of course Pak Mun specialized in the pleasures of the flesh and knew the importance of cleanliness, something which I must admit often not even the most civilized of my countrymen appreciate.

Although I did not tongue his crack and hole as expertly nor as thoroughly as he had done me, he did appear to find pleasure in my effort. I however soon returned to his cock, finding it more to my liking, and as I slipped my lips over it and slid them down the shaft and then slowly drew them up to his bulb, he did likewise. I sucked deeply on his bulb and felt the suction of his mouth on mine. So it was that we brought each other to a peak orally. Feeling the pressure developing in my groin, I warned him, and he replied he was about to release his seed also. Moments later we both came and drank each other's seed, my seed spurting out rapidly and voluminously, as did his. I found his to be mildly sweet and of a creamy constituency and I savoured its flavour and texture, allowing it to fill my mouth before swallowing it, and my mind spun dizzily with delight as his warm slime oozed down my throat. He too savoured my seed, allowing it to sit in his mouth for the longest time so he must have found it agreeable.

For the next three days we roamed the city with Pak Mon as guide, eating pineapple, lime, mango and a disgusting smelling but amazingly delicious fruit called a darian. We performed in the markets in the afternoons, and of course had congress on the roof at night. The days went by quickly. On the fourth day one of his friends who was living in the same compound, a Hindu, was hired to play at a funeral, and I accompanied the two of them out of curiosity. The man, a noble, had died and been cremated fifteen days earlier and Pak Mon's friend had performed then. At this time the man's widow, dressed in her finest and with all her jewellery, held a huge banquet for his relatives and hers with much chewing of betel-nuts, solemn music, chanting and prayers, and a huge pyre.

Then, as I thought things were about to come to an end, the widow stood, walked over to the pyre, and threw herself upon it. Relatives, hers and his, immediately rose and began to beat her with sticks and to throw balls of pitch at her, causing the fire to spark and blaze all the more. At first I thought she was for some reason being punished for something she had done, or not done, but I was told she was being beaten so she might die quicker and with less pain and that soon she would be with her husband again. I left much disturbed and with the stench of burnt flesh in my nostrils, and I was reminded of the practice in Castile of burning heretics and Jews during the Inquisition. (3)

Another strange custom they have in these lands is the building of spirit houses, anything from a small roofed structure on a pillar to a miniature replica house on a dias to an actual full-sized building. These are built for the honouring and protection of spirits. These spirits are usually ancestral, but can be spirits of nature like water spirits, spirits who are guardians of a particular spot like where paths cross, or spirits that are malevolent by their nature or because of something bad happening to them in the past. These spirits are offered sacrifices of rice, bananas, coconuts, or sweet desserts in honour of their memory or as a means of protection. Pak Mon made an offering at one such house, a small but elaborately carved temple, which he said was in memory of his ancestors and in thanks for having met me.

I felt obligated to give thanks also and so under his direction I purchased a sweet tart and left it at an altar to what he said was a nature spirit responsible for erections. I knew the Greeks had several such gods, but whether he was telling me the truth or having a bit of fun with me I could not tell. By then I had discovered he had a reputation as a prankster. Returning back to the others, I learned how to play one of their instruments, a hne, which was a wooden flute except the mouthpiece was along the side instead of at the end. If the offering at the spirit house had been a prank, then the joke was on him, for that night I had no difficulties in achieving an erection, and nor had he. If he had told me the truth, then the spirit had to have been pleased with me or the tart I had left. Of course it could have nothing to do with spirits at all, but I had seen enough of this world to know better than to question anything involving the spirit world.

The next day Pak Mon was hired to play for guests of the King and I did not see him for the next three nights but his friends saw that I was not alone and showed me their favourite places in the city and we played our instruments in the street, me practising on the hne, and learning some of their folk songs, which they encouraged me to sing with many complements on my voice. Besides the ever present cows there were wild hogs, roebucks, and lions frequently wandering in from the surrounding jungle, and the largest and most beautiful peacocks, white parrots, and a bird I had never heard of, a hornbill, larger than an eagle with a red and yellow horn they made into sword hilts and into ladles. Of course I missed Pak Mon and practising the more private playing of each other's flute in the nights and none of his friends were so inclined to engage in that private entertainment, but it was relaxing and most enjoyable to have no business to conduct and to be playing my panpipes and singing and dancing again, something I had not had occasion to do, I realized, for a long time.

When Pak Mon at last returned, I accompanied him and a friend of his, Tay Ba, to a play, a Lakhon Chatri, that they were performing for a group of nobles. We met in a large, dome-shaped building in which our audience sat on cushions or low chairs and the performers performed on a raised stage in the centre of the room. Pak Mon was playing the role of a woman character and he looked and played the part most convincingly. If I had not known, I would have sworn he was a woman. Tay Ba was shirtless and wearing calf-long trousers they called san ap phlao, decorated with long cloth strips. He danced, played two bronze bowls, and sang. I was dressed in the traditional clothes of a court officer, a shirt with long sleeves that covered my tattoos and a round mandarin collar, an outer robe, a lower body wraparound cloth they call a chong kben which hid my lower tattoos, and a pointed cap of white cloth about a bamboo frame under which I tucked my long hair. It was a small part which required I play a flute, one in which the mouthpiece was along the side instead of at the end, and sing a few short pieces which were repeated through the play. It was not a difficult role. I did not know the language well enough to follow the play but it appeared to be one of their more popular myths and involved two lovers, good and evil.

When it was over Pak Mon left with one of the nobles which I suspect he had gotten to know while he had been away and I had a good suspicion why the two of them slipped away. I returned to where I had been staying with Tay Ba. It was he who suggested he take the place of Pak Mon, if I was interested, which I certainly was. The boy was four or five years younger than Pak Mon, thirteen or fourteen, and exceedingly handsome. I had watched him performing and the sight of sweat trickling down his taffy-coloured chest in the torch light and his gorgeous face and feathery eyelashes, and the sound of his melodic voice had me erect and aching for him for most of the evening.

So we retired to the roof where he, like Pak Mon and many of the others, had his own private, curtained space and we embraced and kissed and his smooth lips and sweet breath caused my member to immediately begin to rise. He and the others had seen and I had explained my tattoos when we had prepared for the play so as he disrobed me they did not come as a surprise. He commented on my long hair and light skin and attractiveness and I commented on his beauty and he smiled and blushed, causing my member to rise all the faster. He fondled my stones and swelling member and caressed my backside and I caressed his slim, smooth body. His hairs were fine and silky and he had just begun growing pit hair. As we aroused each other, he apologized not being as skilled as Pak Mon, but I assured him he was more than adequately skilled and I wrapped his fingers about my erection and squeezed as proof and as he smiled again my member throbbed hotly in his hand.

Finding some cushions and lying on his back and raising his legs, he smiled up at me as I knelt between his outspread legs. He had brought along a jar of sweet-smelling lubricant and I greased his eager hole and my stiff rod generously for he had observed he had never lain with a man who had my length nor thickness. We grunted and snorted as men do when they unite, with our effort and our lust, but we were both eager and not without experience and ever so slowly my bulb stretched open his anus until at last it popped inside him. We paused to recover our breath and for our desire to subside and then I slowly penetrated him, sinking my long, thick shaft up his asshole until his eggs were nestled in my curly bush. Again we paused, to recover and to enjoy the delight we were feeling, for me the delight of a young boy and a hot, moist rectum encasing my cock, and for him the joy of having his asshole stuffed and stretched by a man's firm, thick member.

Some boys have congress quietly and others do so loudly and vocally. Tay Ba was of the latter nature and he groaned and sighed with the pleasure pulsating through his rectum as I began to fuck him. He reached up and caressed my biceps and my back as I thrust my cock in and out of his ass, and he wrapped his slender thighs about my waist and threw back his head in ecstasy as my thick, throbbing cock pumped in and out of his body. His own cock was swollen and was about the length of my middle finger and twice as thick and it wagged in the air and he opened and closed his slit in a mad desire to squirt his seed.

We paused to recover again and then resumed, the two of us perspiring in the heat of the night and in the heat of our passion, sweat trickling down our ribs, beading on our foreheads and running down the angle of our chins. Tay Ba's mouth was open and I bent forward and kissed him on the lips and he eagerly returned the kiss, sucking on my mouth and opening and closing his anus as he thrust his body against mine, riding my cock as I thrust it in and out of his hot, perspiring body. He closed those beautiful eyes and tossed his head back, his lips parted as he approached his orgasm, and he quivered and thrust upward as it hit, his stiff cock wagging as it began to spit, his creamy seed flying through the air and lacing my body and his and pooling in creamy puddles in the hollows of his caramel-coloured body.

I too released my seed and as he spurted out his I spurted mine up his rectum, flooding it with my hot slime and his rectum tightened about my throbbing cock as it was filled. Over and over I spurted as if I had not released my seed for a week, and I swayed dizzily on my knees and elbows as my balls emptied. I bent my head and kissed his smooth lips and he returned the kiss and wrapped his arms and legs tighter about me. Our chests heaved and strained as we pressed our hot, sweating bodies together, cemented by his hot, creamy slime.

The two of us slept late the next morning and when at last we returned downstairs the others had to have known what we had done but none gave any indication of noticing. The relaxed and accepting atmosphere of this group of performers was a delight and a tonic for my troubled soul and a reminder of my good times with the Gilman Entertainers and I would remain with them quite happily were it not for my obligations to family, country and faith. As it was, we lazed about most of the afternoon talking about our lives and life in Tenasserim and that day and the next I spent with Tay Ba, and of course in the evenings we tended to each other's needs.

The next day I attended a second play with Tay Ba and a couple others and by then was proficient enough to take a larger part in the performance. I had forgotten the joy that comes from entertaining others and bringing them enjoyment simply from music and I found it most refreshing. Pak Mon arrived late the next day, saying that he was glad to see I was still there and that he was relieved that he did not have to go in search of me. When I inquired why, he explained that one of the nobles who had attended the performance the first night I had performed, a court official, had been most impressed with me, and had inquired if we might meet.

While I was honoured by the recognition, I felt it was largely undeserved given my small role. Besides, I suspected that this noble had another reason for wanting to meet me, and that created several problems. For one, I was not Siamese and that would be immediately evident when we met. For another, he might not be so interested once he discovered my tattoos and realized my age. There was also another problem from my perspective. While I was not averse to congress with an older man and there were in fact advantages considering his position, my needs were more than satiated and congress with an older man was not of much interest to me. It would be easy for me to decline, and it would be easy for Pak Mon to claim he could not find me for he had already explained I was not a local, but there was another complication. This court officer and the noble Pak Mon had spent the night with were close friends, so seeing the officer would please the other noble, and the favour would undoubtedly be to Pak Mon's advantage, and being in a position to do him a favour I certainly wanted to do so.

So early the next evening I accompanied Pak Mon to the court officer's home. It was a large, multi-storied building and the furnishings were lavish and clearly expensive. The man was, to my surprise, younger than I had expected, perhaps in his late thirties or early forties. We met in one of the reception rooms and we began with him praising my performance and my voice and me being graciously flattered. He rang for tea and sweets and a young slave boy of about ten quickly appeared with a large tray upon which was an elaborately decorated pot and cups and pastries containing various jams and nuts. Motioning for us to sit, he quickly came to his point. He had been genuinely impressed with the performance, and with myself, and he genuinely wished to express his appreciation. He was not, he said, that wealthy that he felt he could adequately express his appreciation financially, but he did, he said somewhat uneasily, have another idea.

The man was married and from what I had seen had several children but I knew from experience neither condition precluded what he was thinking. I knew of many married men and fathers who found delight in a young boy and readily admitted it, and I knew of many cultures who celebrated that aspect of life. I also knew for some it was an embarrassment and a secret. Before I could comment, he asked what I thought of the slave boy who had brought our refreshments. Caught by surprise, I replied that he seemed appropriately subservient and respectful, and the man asked further what I thought of his physical attributes. Confused, I replied that he was an attractive boy, for he was, and when asked if he was attractive enough to have congress with, I replied even more flustered and confused, that he was. The official, glancing at Pak Mon, observed that he had been told I took pleasure in such boys, and by then totally surprised, I also glanced at Pak Mon as I stated that I did.

Well, the official said that it was his idea to offer me the boy for the evening to show me his appreciation, as prosaically as if he were offering me a painting or sculpture or other favoured possession. In reality, I realized, that for him the slave boy was just another possession, and likely, one considered of equal value. He went on to say he recognized the boy's charms, as had the man who captured him in the recent war with the Kingdom of Sukhithai, but neither had such an interest. He confessed, that though he was offering me the boy in appreciation, he was also hoping I might introduce the boy to man-boy sex favourably so that the boy would be an even more valuable gift for future recipients.

He was offering me an innocent child to satisfy my perverted lust and thought he was doing a good and honourable deed! And he wanted me to pervert the child so that in the future he might lust after men, and he thought that request was good and honourable also! I have been in many difficult and awkward positions, but never in one such as this! To refuse would be an insult to him, and Pak Mon, possibly incur his wrath and endanger Pak Mon's position, and possibly jeopardize the boy's future. To agree would be to pervert an innocent child and to use a fellow human being for my own ends, and the ends of others. Of course, that is what slaves are for. Had the boy been black, I would probably not have thought twice about it for some races are suited only for slavery and for the pleasure of their superiors. Boys, and women, captured in war are no different. They are, as they are known, spoils of war and as captives they know no rights. They are lucky to be alive and not killed, or worse, raped repeatedly and then killed. To the winner go the spoils, as it should be. That is the nature of the world.

The choice before me raised other questions, fundamental questions about sexuality, about fate, and about myself. If it was wrong to introduce this innocent to man-boy sex, then was man-boy sex wrong? Many would say yes. It is a perversion and a sin. But I know many who would say it is not. That it is the way of nature, the intention of God. With a woman it is a duty, but with a boy it is for fun. It brought me joy. And it brought many boys joy. Tay Ba. Many others. If it was the destiny of the boy to pleasure men, then was it not better that someone such as I introduced him to such pleasure? I understood. I was gentle. Far better to be introduced to pleasure than to be brutally raped by a man who sought only his own pleasure. I have seen the difference, and I could make a difference for this one boy. If it was our past lives that resulted in the two of us being here now with this choice, then what we did now could result in a future life that was better, or was worse. I pictured the boy in my mind and agreed, and from the expressions on the faces of my host and Pak Mon, I knew for them, at least, I had made the right choice.

And so the boy was summoned and told to take me to one of the guest rooms, and to do whatever else I requested of him. Thanking my host and saying goodnight to Pak Mon, I followed the boy. The room was small but just as lavish as the rest of the home with rich wall hangings, a thick carpet, a low, wide pallet, an ornately-carved teak cabinet, and an abundance of pillows. On the cabinet were several scented candles, incense sticks, a bowl of warm water, several soft cloths and towels, and a jar of lubricant. Sitting down on the pallet, I told the boy to join me and I asked him to tell me about himself.

He named the village where he was born and said it was in the Sukhithai Kingdom, which was at war with many kingdoms, including Ayutthaya. He did not know why they were at war, but that was the way of the world and it was not for him to know the way of kings and nobles. The soldiers of his country were killed and his village captured and burned. What came of his mother and father and brothers and sisters he did not know but he had been captured and carried back to Ayutthaya. That was two years ago and he was a slave for the man who had captured him but the man had no need for a slave so he was sold to another man who found him too young and weak to work in the rice fields so he sold him to the man he was with presently who had him serve meals and help the cook and wait on guests.

I asked if he knew why he had been asked to join me and he replied he did not but that he was ten and he was told he was pretty, and he knew pretty boys were chosen to make men happy, though he did not know how, and that he had heard his present master say many times it was time for him to learn and to earn his keep. I asked how he felt about that, and he replied that he must have lead a bad life in his last life because he was captured and a slave, but it must have been good because he had not died or had his boyhood cut off, and that he wanted to lead a better life in this life so he could have a better next life.

I knew then why he and I were there and I was at peace with that. I told him that I was there to show him how to make men happy, and that making men happy was a good thing so in doing so he would surely be rewarded by a better life in the next life. And so I taught him how to disrobe to seduce a man and make him happy, and how to disrobe a man. I explained to him how a man and a boy can arouse each other, and I demonstrated on him, and had him practice on me. He was indeed a pretty boy and he had no difficulty arousing me, and being ten and innocent, he was easily aroused, and fondling his little worm until it became swollen and stiff and jutted out from his body barely longer or thicker than my smallest finger caused me to grow even harder. We compared his stiff little cocklet to mine, now two hands and two fingers long and over two fingers thick, his with a hood and mine without.

The boy was truly innocent and we began with the most basic of pleasures, masturbation, which he claimed to know nothing about and to have never done, and I believe he was being truthful for he had no reason to lie. I showed him how to fondle himself and how to draw his hood back and push it forward, which he did to cleanse himself so he was able to do so without difficulty or discomfort. While he played with himself, I played with myself, and between the physical stimulation and watching me, his little cocklet grew stiff, a condition that he said occurred on rare occasion during the night when he had to make water. He was much excited and pleased with the stimulation of his bulb and he opened and closed his peehole as he sat there stroking his stiff little cocklet, his tongue pressed between his lips at the corner of his mouth.

His concentration grew stronger and I knew what was happening, causing me to become more excited also, and suddenly his eyes flew open and he began to jerk and twist and he gasped and groaned as his little cocklet throbbed and his knob burned and pangs of arousal shot through his swollen member. Watching his shock and amazement and his delight with his first orgasm brought me as much pleasure as it was bringing him. To be part of his discovery and his pleasure and to have been the cause of it was so arousing I felt as if I was about to have an orgasm also, and witnessing his pleasure and awe was proof what I had done was right.

Once he recovered, I explained to him the ways men and boys can bring each other pleasure orally, and we kissed and I sucked on his little nipples until they became firm and burned and he practised sucking mine, and I sucked on his little cocklet until it grew hard once again and I let him suck on my cock until it too stood tall and firm. He was of course hesitant at first, but he bent forward and gave my shaft a tentative lick, and finding it not at all like he had expected, he eagerly continued. Under my directions at first he licked my shaft and bulb and ran his tongue around the rim until my clear nectar bubbled out of my throbbing cock, and I had him flick the droplet up with his tongue and savour it, and watching him doing so quickly produced a second and third. He continued eagerly, no longer needing my prompting. I was tempted to suck his little dinky until he experienced another orgasm, but I figured it best to let him experience that with another, and though I wanted very desperately to have him suck me to orgasm, I felt that best be left for him to discover with another also.

Finally I greased his hole and finger fucked him and then had him do himself, explaining that any object would do besides his finger, and that a man could do what his finger was doing by using his cock, but that he would have to practice and stretch his little pucker, and to do it with a man such as myself, it would take much practice. We then masturbated each other and it was a delight to watch his face as he concentrated on the changing sensations between his legs, and as he concentrated on stroking me. Again he reached an orgasm, this time with my fingers wrapped about his throbbing little worm, and then I ejaculated, my seed flying in the air much to his surprise, and as the pressure decreased, flowing out of my opening and down over my knob and over his hot little fingers. He was much surprised and delighted that he had brought me such pleasure, and when he licked the slime from my fingers with my prompting, he smiled up at me with delight and sticky lips.

Before I left in the morning his master met with him and appeared to have received a positive report, and although instructing the boy had been reward in itself, he left with me the equivalent of a gold ducat in coin of the realm. I headed back to my lodging with a lift to my step and a smile on my face. Regardless what others felt and regardless of the cause, I found great delight in congress with young boys, and to introduce a boy to the pleasures to be had between a boy and a man had to be one of the most pleasant experiences of all. Hopefully I made his role as a slave boy that much more pleasant and that much easier, and hopefully the path I had set him upon would be a path of pleasure and enlightenment. Certainly it was not the same path as Chen was following, but it was, in my opinion, a worthy one.