The weight of the man lifted off young Han Li, who sighed, and attempted, unsuccessfully, to move from his prone, bent, and spread position. The imperial guard captain had been on top of the fourteen-year-old boy, between his legs, inside him for so long that Han Li was numbed into that stance, his buttocks raised on satin pillows, his sleeping robe hanging open underneath him.
The soldier, twenty-eight-year-old Ke Chuan, had untied the red silk sash from Han Li’s robe from around the boy’s wrists, had risen from on top of Han Li on the kang--the hard bed--in the center of the small pavilion off the Pavilion of the Tortoise in which Han Li’s father, the general of the imperial troops in distant Chinghai Province, Han Shui, was snoring away. He stealthily moved to the beaded curtain in the doorway between the two pavilions to ensure that the old general had slept through the deflowering of his young son.
Han Li lay there, still trembling and unable to close his legs and watched Ke Chuan move stealthily around his chamber. The boy’s eyes were dreamy with awe of the handsome, muscular guard captain who had coaxed his virginity to anal penetration from him, taking all guilt from him by binding him as he whimpered his fear mixed with want. Ke Chuan had masterfully seduced him, presenting himself as a young god, cultivating him, whispering encouraging and praising words to him whenever they were close to each other, fondling him and telling him how beautiful and desirable he was when they were in private, and then, tonight, being so patient in preparing him and, only when Han Li begged him for the attention, binding, mounting, penetrating, and seeding him. Having led a reclusive, protected student’s life to that point in a palace in remote Chinghai, Han Li had been vulnerable to the dazzle of Ke Chuan.
It had been frightening and painful. It had been glorious, and Han Li wanted Ke Chuan to copulate with him again. He had thought for some time he would be with men as well as women. He’d no idea it would first happen at the center of the universe, in the Forbidden City itself, lying under the godly captain of the emperor’s own guard. His eyes followed Ke Chuan’s movements around the room, willing the masterful cocksman to return to him and take him again, teach him of more positions and techniques, taking him again and again until there was no more pain, only pleasure.
When the guard captain had first crept into the pavilion and accosted the half-breed son of the western general, Ke Chuan had taken the precaution of coming masked and robed in the colors of the night and had bound and gagged the boy in his own silk sleeping apparel. The boy had struggled in surprise initially, but as Ke Chuan had surmised, his attentions were welcome and once he had smothered the boy in attentiveness to his sexual arousal and impulses and had thrown off his mask and robe and Han Le had seen who it was who was on top of him and between his legs, Ke Chuan was able to replace the gag with his mouth and to hold the boy in thrall to his demanding kiss, as he mounted, penetrated, and rode him. Han Li shuddered and writhed as Ke Chuan penetrated him deep, as his endowment allowed, and, eventually, the boy went docile and then fell in the rhythm of the strong, virile soldier’s possession.
Han Li had given Ke Chuan every hope that his attentions would be welcome earlier, after the western general and his entourage, including the son he begat from his Italian wife, who had been the widow of an emissary to the imperial court who had died en route and Han Shui had added the woman to his collection of wives. Han Li, small of stature in his fourteen years on earth, perfection of body, alabaster skin, and dark, shining eyes and hair, had come to Peking with his father. Han Shui wanted his son to pass the exams for the imperial civil service, and the boy had advanced as far as he could go with frontier tutors.
Han Li had not been part of the entourage that was granted an audience by the emperor Pu Yi in the cluster of Dragon Pavilions deep in the grounds of the Forbidden City, but he had been permitted to come to a courtyard in sight of the vermillion and gold pillared, open-sided throne room while his father gave his periodic report to the Son of Heaven on the military situation on the empire’s western borders.
As Han Shui reported, the emperor’s imperial guard stood at attention around the edges of the throne room pavilion. The attention of the guard’s captain, though, Ke Chuan, had strayed to the courtyard off to the side, where he saw the young, exotic, mixed-breed boy, Han Li, wandering around, admiring the plantings and the colorful architecture of the emperor’s compound within the Forbidden City. Ke Chuan was smitten and immediately decided that he must have this boy writhing under him and sheathing his shaft.
Han Li looked up to meet Ke Chuan’s gaze and smile and he was equally smitten.
Later, by asking judiciously, Ke Chuan informed himself on who the boy was, what he was doing in the imperial capital--and, to his delight, that he was a virgin to men using his anal passage. The guard captain had already ascertained from the looks he’d shared with the boy that there was hope that Ke Chuan could cure Han Li of his virginity.
Unbeknownst to Ke Chuan or Han Li--or that matter to Han Shui--Ke Chuan wasn’t the only one who speculated on the beauty of the graceful and exotic boy roaming around in the side courtyard. From another pavilion before he belatedly arrived in his throne room to receive the general from the western province, Emperor Pu Yi had looked into the side courtyard and taken pause--a long pause--in seeing the form of Han Li.
Emperor Pu Yi made the same vow to himself as Ke Chuan had. He would deflower this exotic-visaged boy, bestow his imperial seed on him, and add him to the secondary stable of mates he had--the stable of the young male concubines.
Over the next two days, Ke Chuan made it his business to approach the young visitor from the western lands as opportunity arose and to engage him in conversation and flirting. He was delighted to find that the boy was open to flirting with another man and that he seemed frustrated by the restraints his father put on him and was ready to spread his wings and fly in his own chosen direction.
In turn, the emperor made it his business to find out more about the boy, the reason why he was so exotically beautiful, and that he as yet was untouched, having been closely guarded by his father on the remote frontier of the empire, destined for the life of a scholar rather than a soldier.
For his part, General Han Shui was oblivious to the interest of the captain of the emperor’s guard, attentions from that direction being unspeakably below his status, but he wasn’t oblivious to the emperor’s interest. This became a delicate balancing act for him. He acceded to opportunities for added contact with the emperor by arranging to have his son nearby and in view, but he did so for the chance to discuss with the emperor how precarious the military position was on the western border, which already regularly was being breached by foreign hordes, and to focus the emperor’s attention on meeting the threat. Already, in the general’s absence, a foreign force was inside the borders and was advancing toward the capital. To add to this, Mongols from the north were even closer to Peking in the movement of military forces. The emperor needed to focus on the military threat, not the desires to dip his shaft in unused passages.
Ke Chuan was aware of the emperor’s interest in the Chinghai boy. He also was aware that if he were first in enjoying the boy’s passage and the emperor heard of it, his head would roll off his body. But he was a lustful, randy example of a risk taker, used to getting his way sexually because of the power and magnificence of his body as well as his position at the head of the emperor’s personal guard.
As he lay on top of the boy in the small pavilion off to the side of where the powerful, western general father of Han Li was snoring, Ke Chuan forced silken pillows under the boy’s buttocks to raise his virginal passage to the sacrifice, coaxed the boy’s thighs apart with his knees, and savored the boy’s muffled virgin cries reducing to whimpers and eventually to acceptance and coordinated rhythm and deep sighs as he buried his cock deep inside Han Li’s channel. He reveled not only in the pleasure of stealing the exotic boy’s virginity but also in the danger of the moment.
Later, when Ke Chuan had unbound Han Li and been brought to wariness by the possible sounds of movement in the larger pavilion beyond and had stolen over to listen at the beaded curtain of the doorway into the central Pavilion of the Tortoise, he nearly laughed out loud when he turned to see Han Li, still on his back, still with his legs open and his buttocks raised, turned to him with a pleading look on his face and his arms raised and spread open to the guard captain.
Ke Chuan strode quickly back to the kang and climbed on top of the boy. It was Han Li, who took the guard captain’s thick, long shaft in his hands and guided its bulb into place. Ke Chuan instinctively clamped his hand over the boy’s mouth to stifle the inevitable cry when he thrust his cock home. Mere moments later, as Han Li controlled the brutal slash of pain-pleasure, he grasped the guard captain’s buttocks in his hands and the two bucked against each other through deep panting and muffled moans in a frenzied dance of the fuck.
Ke Chuan smirked in the knowledge that the boy was lost to the power of his cock. All young men he got his shaft into were lost to his mastering. This was well worth the risk he took, Ke Chuan thought.
“But, oh Son of Heaven, these are primitive subjects from the western edge of the empire. He may not be suitable.”
“I have checked. Do not presume to question my order. Bring the boy to my kang tonight.” The Emperor Pu Yi gave his guard captain a look of surprise and disapproval as if the soldier were a dog that had unexpectedly hopped out of a tranquil garden pond.
Ke Chuan presumed to continue, though, suddenly frightened what he might have done to disturb the order of the empire. “I am just noting the ritual of the emperor’s conquest of purity, Exalted Dragon of China--the ill luck that would come from a first lie with a concubine who was not a virgin.”
Mollified a bit, Pu Yi said, “You needn’t worry about that. I have thoroughly checked. I have queried the western general himself, and he has assured me his son is a virgin. The general would not lie to me about such an important matter. Besides, the boy is too young and has lived too sheltered and protected life to have lost his virginity to a man. Considering who his father is, no man in Chinghai would have dared violate the boy.”
No, you want to violate the boy yourself, Ke Chuan thought, without entertaining the reality that he, Ke Chuan, had already violated the boy. And not that the general would know, the guard captain mused. The general had been snoring in the chamber next door when Ke Chuan had been ripping the boy’s virginity out of him. Ke Chuan was thoroughly backed into a corner. If he revealed what he knew, his head would roll. If he didn’t, there was the curse of an invalid emperor’s conquest of purity. Which was the greater tragedy?
He wasn’t stupid. He knew what the greater tragedy for him would be.
“What is this? What is this doing here?” Han Li asked in a shaky voice. He’d been called into the Pavilion of the Tortoise, where he had spied, on his father’s elaborate sleeping kang, a richly embroidered, large silk quilt. The background color was a bold yellow. His father, General Han Shui, was standing on one side of the kang and the captain of the imperial guard, Ke Chuan, was standing on the other side, one hand lifting up the corner of the quilt. Both men looked quite serious.
“Were you bathed as I commanded?” Han Shui asked his son in strained voice.
“Yes, father. But again, what is that quilt doing in here? That is exclusively of the emperor’s quarters. No one but the emperor can use yellow.”
“It is the ritual. You may not have heard of it in distant Chinghai,” Ke Chuan answered dully, his voice as much strained as Han Shui’s had been.
“Yes, I know of the ritual,” Han Le said. “I am here to study further for the civil service examinations, of which knowledge of the rituals is central. I’m not just starting my studies, though. I understand what the quilt is for--to deliver a concubine to the emperor for the first coupling and entry into his house. But how does that--?”
“I think you know how that applies here--how that applies to you, my son,” Han Shui answered in a tired, regretful voice. “The emperor has seen you. His interests are broad. I have no idea how he came to observe and choose you, but he has. I can do nothing about it.”
“But this can’t be. Tell him, Ke Chuan. Tell him why this can’t serve the ritual.” He looked imploringly and accusingly at the guard captain. He could not openly say it in front of his father, and he knew that it would be insanity and suicide for Ke Chuan to reveal that Han Li could not go to the emperor this way, as the ritual required the concubine to be a virgin. And Han Li was not a virgin. Ke Chuan knew exactly why Han Li was not a virgin. Ke Chuan had made sure Han Li was not a virgin three times that night.
The ritual could not be observed under this circumstance. Ke Chuan knew it would be a sacrilege, not helped because the emperor did not know it. But anyone who knew it knew that it would be an insult to the gods, who would surely take their revenge. So it could not happen.
“Tell him that it can’t be, Ke Chuan,” Han Li said, again, but Ke Chuan looked away from him to Han Li’s father, and spoke to the general. “We cannot keep the emperor waiting. You know that. The emperor has spoken. You know that too.”
“Remove your robe and lie on the quilt,” Han Shui said in weary voice.
“Father!” Han Li exclaimed.
“Call in the guards, if you must,” Han Shui said to Ke Chuan.
The guard captain did so, and they stripped Han Li of his robe. Whether in shock or surrender, Han Li struggled only a bit but said nothing as they rolled him in the yellow silk quilt and carried him from the Pavilion of the Tortoise across the Forbidden City grounds to the Dragon Pavilion, the sleeping pavilion of Emperor Pu Yi.
And there He was, the emperor Pu Yi, Son of Heaven, when the soldiers had deposited the quilt on the sumptuously pillowed kang in the vermillion and gold leaf-adorned Dragon Pavilion and unfolded the quilt from around Han Li’s slight, perfectly formed body and had backed, kowtowing, out of the pavilion. He stood at the foot of the kang, ensconced in a cobalt blue silken robe embroidered with a dragon, symbol of the emperor, in golden threads. The robe was open at the emperor’s groin, and he was fisting his erect cock in his bejeweled left hand.
The expression on Pu Yi’s face revealed that he was very pleased with what he saw. The fingers of his right hand went to the supple skin of the boy’s arms and thighs and chest. He groaned his need. Han Li could not turn away or resist in any way. This was his emperor. Very few in the empire were even permitted to look on the emperor’s countenance. And here was the emperor, touching Han Li in the most intimate way and places. The emperor ran his hand between Han Li’s thighs, nudging them to spread, and Han Li dutifully opened them, shuddering as the emperor ran his fingers over the boy’s inner thighs. The touch told Han Li that the emperor wanted him to turn his thighs outward and elevate his pelvis, and when the boy did, the emperor ran his finger across the boy’s anal opening, back and forth, and Han Li moaned for him and his opening puckered.