The Prince donned the regal blazing purple that proclaimed his status in the world. He was on the Observation Platform, and before him was a throng of his subjects who were all crying and cheering and clapping in their own way. The heavy, gold clasp at his neck closed with a satisfying thunk, which allowed him to raise all four of his arms to wave at his people. Seeing his acknowledgement stoked their cries causing their sounds to swell to a fever pitch. He then lowered his arms, holding them before his truly magnificent body. Obediently, the crowd hushed.
"My dear people!" his voice boomed from the speakers that were all around the Presentation Field of the castle. "My dear friends, I must go now to travel to Alechar to attend to the trials!" Once more a huge roar of support rose from the crowd. He indulged in it for a moment, before asking once again for silence. "I will return nothing less than your KING!" he proclaimed. His subjects erupted once more and this time they did not heed his request for silence for several moments. "I am humbled by you, and upon my honor as your Prince, I will succeed for you." He, like the crowd, was expecting a series of battles and physical ordeals.
After his final wave, he ducked inside to where the Couriers were waiting. The Hall was totally empty. That was the protocol. He had said his goodbyes earlier, to his sweet sister the Princess, who in only two years would then have to be forged in the Trials for Girls. All he knew about that was that they left as girls and returned as women. His parents, the current King and Queen, had stepped down in the public ceremony. Their reign would end when the Prince returned. They would retire to the country and live out the rest of their days pursuing the best things in life.
The Prince looked at the Couriers. They were ugly beasts, with four squat, muscular legs and long claws that were fearsome weapons in battle. Their three-segment bodies grew narrower, and their heads were not unlike those of earth-born ants. Their language was an indecipherable mix of clicks and clacks, yet the Prince completely understood their meaning. He stood between them, and they marched down the long corridor in perfect unison. Both Couriers unsheathed their wands and directed them at a point down the hall. As they neared, the Prince saw the air shimmer and then he was sucked into nothingness. All that remained was a defeaning clapping noise that echoed down the empty halls. The Prince's Trials had begun.
At the other side, the Prince found himself wrapped up tightly as in a cocoon. His powerful body surged and the seed pod exploded around him. He gazed around warily; his youthfulness had convinced him that he would unquestionably succeed and his reknown strength and vigor would protect him. As he gazed around, he saw that he was in a place of nothingness. The air around him was dark and thick and heavy, and breathing was unpleasant. He was atop a barren rock that was as smooth as glass, not a single crack that he could see. The murky darkness did not provide any vantage points.
He looked at himself suddenly. During the jump he'd been stripped of his clothes and his weapons. His bare skin suddenly mottled from touching the air. He hated nakedness. He began to look around wildly, as his psyche fought to restrain the natural urge to panic. The words of his Teacher suddenly flooded his mind. "Doubt makes you weak and stupid. If you are ever in an unknown place, sit and relax until the world in which you are in comes to you."
Disturbed and uncomfortable, he fought the sense of his Teacher's words. But the years of Teaching were too strong. So he sat, crossing his long legs and settled in to get comfortable. One pair of arms he held loosely by his side. The other he put this the temples of his mind. He forced himself to close his eyes and steady his breathing. Only the years of dedicated training allowed him to calm down enough so that he began to hear the whispers on the almost non-existent wind. He found himself concentrating hard, and after time passed, he stood, looked, and walked in a most confident manner.
He walked and walked, always following the whisper, that heavenly scent, and the gentle breeze. It led him to a narrow cleft in the smooth ground, and he descended down steadily. There was no need to rush. He continued down, until when he looked up he saw that he was unable to see the rim of the canyon. Rationally he knew that he should not be able to see the ground before him and yet it was as clear as being outside on a sun-kissed day. He walked until he came to a door without a handle nor markings. Once more, he sat.
Presently, the door opened and he was ushered inside by the most beautiful form of creature he had ever spied. She - although it was an unfamiliar life form to him - it was definitely a 'she' - gestured to him to follow. So he did.
"Ah," came a booming voice. "Prince Achmad, I presume?"
"Yes, it is Prince Achmad," he spoke to the unseen voice. "May I ask to whom I speak?"
The voice chuckled, an adult indulging a precocious child. "You may ask though I will not answer."
"I see. Are the Trials to begin?"
"You misunderstand. They have already begun!" the voice informed the Prince. "As is the custom of your People, we have affirmed that you have mastered the subtle Art of Meditation. This is an asset to you," the voice continued. "You have Strength and Stamina too, though we will sorely test those. Are you confident?"
The Prince was, and said as much.
The voice chuckled once more. "Of course you are. Tell me, Achmad, what did you think of Mya there?"
"She ... she is female, correct?"
"Yes," came a harmonious voice from all around him. Her voice projections came from all places at once and filled his ears with her musical tones. "Does this please you?" she asked.
He felt a particular urge begin to pull upon his psyche. "It does," he admitted.
"What do you think of her?" the voice asked once again.
"Mya is a most beautiful creature, and though it was my first time seeing such a vision even I can appreciate beauty when I see it!"
"Some flattery, too," the voice chimed in, sounding pleased.
"Do you want to please me?" came Mya's voice. This time it sounded like it came from within his own body. One hand flew to his powerful chest as if to hold her voice inside.
"It would be my honor," Achmad's intuition told him to say. The Teacher had always, always said that he was an intuitive person, and to always, always pay great heed to that.
"Those who fail to heed their intuition," the Teacher had always said, "will simply fail."
"Then you shall have that honor," the voice boomed with finality.
Mya returned to stand next to him. He looked over at her, but her visage was inscrutable. Instead, she was looking away, and he followed her gaze. The air seemed to lighten enough that he could spy the two large poles. "With me," Mya said from all around. She walked towards the poles while Achmad followed.
They neared the poles, which Achmad now saw were connected by a raised platform. Mya stopped and turned to face him. He looked up to her, seeing how she was quite taller and robust. But her face seemed serene and calming and very nice to admire. So he admired her, openly, as was the way of his world. He blinked as she began to lower her head to his, and a moment later she was looking him steadily in the eye.
"Now," she said softly, "just...breathe..." she said as a smoky substance erupted from her mouth. The cloud enveloped his head and though it disappated quickly, the effects on Achmad were instantaneous. He wobbled, his powerful legs now weak, but his sex organ had sprouted up instantly. It glowed a flourescent blue, already quite bright.
"Now my child, touch the pole with your hand," Mya said gently grasping his wrist until his hand connected with the pole. He screamed as the shock of touching the liquid metal destroyed the fog of her smoke. He could not resist as the pole called to his other hands. He fought magnificently and valiantly as all who attended the Trials invariably did. His body trembled from the fight and swiftly he excreted the foul-smelling blue-sweat that was part of his natural defenses. With a raging scream of impotent fury he succumbed to the pole, and found himself swiftly raised up between the two posts. All four arms and both feet were encased by the liquid metal.
"There," Mya said softly. She stepped forward and traced one of her appendages up Achmad's still-trembling legs. "You show promise, little one," she cooed. Her appendages morphed into a more hand-like appeance and her steady, slow caress of his naked skin soon had the desired effect. His organ began to pulse a dark violet color as it rose slowly.
"Let's see how much promise you have!" The mask of her face suggested private indulgence. His anatomy was not unlike a human's, with his sex organ tucked between his legs. Like the human, his organ was a source of tremendous pleasure. Mya once again exhaled her Smoke and it enveloped Achmad's head and pervaded all of his senses. Like before, his organ reached its fullest potential in a mere second, and from within the translucent shaft the electric blue light pulsed hard and fast. When Mya's appendage brushed his organ, Achmad could not help but to groan and shudder in his bonds.
"Oooh, I think you have tremendous promise!" Mya decided after holding his turgid pole lightly in her appendages. She saw that he was still very much fogged from her toxic breath.
She reached up and grapsed Achmad's organ at the base and squeezed with a might that threatened to rip his organ away from his body. The toxins cleared and regained senses only to discover a massive blooming pain in his most private regions. The howls he emitted hearkened to long-ago days of more animalistic times. "Silence!" Mya's voice boomed.
Achmad's eyes were fully open and filled with wonder, lust, and wariness. And fear, she saw. Fear was important. Fear helped. "You, Prince Achmad, as it has been decreed since the Time Before Time, must successfully complete the Trial. I am your Trial, Achmad. You will get your first taste of what my eons of training have taught me!"
Knowing that their culture found oral pleasure distasteful, the first thing she did was envelop his organ into one of her mouths. It was her softest, hottest one, and his howling resumed but in dismay and distress. No mouths were to touch his organ, but she could see his resolve giving way. Her mouth had pleasured the male species for more years than Achmad had been alive in this universe. She began to teach him what he did not yet know, and when Achmad's breathing began to hitch and his body strain once more in the bonds, she released him.
"So you begin your training," she said quietly. "It starts with a low burning sensation here," she said tapping the empty skin under his manhood and between his anus. "Soon," she continued, "you will feel a deep ache, a pain unlike anything you have ever felt before." She caressed that spot behind his manhood, and he squirmed from the unfamiliar yet pleasurable feeling. "You will soon understand why!" she promised him cryptically, and left him.
True to her word, not long after she left he felt the most unpleasant sensation of pain that he'd yet felt in his life. It was a dull yet maddening ache and in that most private area. He tried to free himself but soon sagged in his pole. He was trapped and forced to suffer through this cruel agony. He tried to meditate to see if he could work out what was meant to occur. To his surprise he discovered that meditation did relieve some of the discomfort.
Yet within moments of feeling relief, Mya returned and once more engulfed his manhood into her mouth. Like before she created waves of pleasure. The need to feel such pleasure flooded his brain and dulled his wit and rendered him rather mute. All that mattered was the sensation of her soft yet sinewy tongue as it slid around, up and down, and over and around his head and shaft. Never had he felt such pleasure. Then, she released him again and left. Soon thereafter the pain recurred.
For days or weeks or maybe just hours that cycle continued. He would suffer, meditate, recover, only to have Mya return with her tantalizing tongue. She was an expert; her skill was such that just seeing her appear from her place of respite caused his manhood to pulse its wild blue and surge powerfully at the base of his abdomen. He craved her touch, the sensations that she created for him and in his mind. Yet as badly as he wanted her touch, he abhorred its result. The pain was growing worse, if that was even possible. More than once he thought he might break down and leak the fluids from his eyes. He remained strong, strong, strong, even as Mya steadily eroded his strength and resolve.
At some point, she reached under his turgid manhood and rubbed her hand there. The faintest touch triggered an eruption of pain voiced by an explosive scream. "NNNNNOOOOOOOOO!" Achmad wailed wildly. He was beyond control now, a foul-smelling sweat-stained creature of lust and addiction. His mind craved it but his body was repelled. No matter the screams or wails or recent begging, each time his lust flagged Mya returned to stoke it.
Through each cycle Achmad began to sense subtle changes. He felt a deeper pain blooming in him, but this was not the same kind. This was more like a pain he'd once felt after breaking bones in his body. This was sharp and stabbing, yet it was easier to tolerate for him. Why this was true he had no idea.
After more time passed, Mya returned once again. She tested his manhood, noting how it was so shiny that its light penetrated the murky air of the area. She felt the growing bulge behind his manhood. Soon, she thought. Soon.
Achmad was lost in a sea of lust, pain and confusion. He had visions, but were they dreams? He was so addicted to Mya's touch that just the thought of her mouth brought him to a turgid state. Despite knowing that her touch invariably brought tremendous pain, he still wanted it. No longer did he shy from her touch because it was exquisite. It was almost too much to bear, the pleasure of it all. Bouncing around the inside of his brain was one question that with each passing day took on greater importance.
He began to sense that he was arriving at a destination. Mya's talents were driving him to heights that he had not though possible. Yet, at times, he sensed that he was nearing an end. In those lucid moments he considered that it was like being in a long, dark tunnel. Though it was hot yet dark, there was a searing light at the end of it. He began thinking that he wanted and needed to see that light. What was it? What did it do? Why was it there? But then Mya's mouth would fog him and he would be lost again in the seas of pleasure then pain. Pleasure then pain. Why did there have to be pain?
This day, Mya exited her hideyhole and saw Achmad looking at her. Yes, today may be the day she thought. His look was rather serene. He was conquering the needs of his body. She touched his tender areas and further concluded that this day was the day. She studied him, and noted that his eyes narrowed with suspicion. This was out of character during the trial. He had regained some self-awareness.
"Do you know how children are formed, biologically?" Mya asked. Instead of voraciously sucking his organ, this day she only lightly fondled it with her appendages.
"The seed of the male fertilizes the egg of the female," he replied.
"So where is your seed?" she asked.
He gaped at her. "I...I do not know, I have never thought of it."
"That is the Trial," she said to him. She moved her hand and touched the tender bulge behind his manhood. "Today, I think," her voice of experience saying that today was definitely it, "today, you will know your seed." She began massaging that spot with more force than she had ever used. The pain returned almost directly, and now it was sharp and stabbing and mind-breaking. Achmad screamed wildly as Mya rubbed and caressed. The words Achmad could form were "no" and "stop" but that was it.
She felt it, the hard node that she had been seeking. Her movements were swift and certain. She plunged his turgid manhood into her mouth and pressed hard on the button. Achmad shrieked, a high-pitched, throat-destroying noise of pure nothingness. But then the node finally gave way and the protective shell over his seed organs gave way. They were called balls by nearly everyone, and Achmad had four of them. They were huge and swollen, and pulsing with such a deep, rich blue that she had to blink lest she was blinded. Just as suddenly, once they descended, Achmad's shrieks stopped. The pain had ended. And now he panted and gasped, as he was discovering that there was a tunnel and Mya's delicate mouth sent him careening towards it.
Now he knew why he was trapped in the poles. The surge of physicality that erupted in him nearly caused him to pull his hands and legs from the pole. This was the Onset, and it was a once-in-a-lifetime explosive act of becoming a man. Achmad suddenly knew what it was to achieve fulfillment of sexual wishes as the long pent-up seeds exploded from his manhood with physical force. Mya drank greedily from the spouting organ as huge globs of his whitish-yellow seed exploded in massive waves of pleasure. For a solid minute Achmad spilled seed. The first eighteeen years of his life he had spent filling those balls with his seed and his first orgasm had to cleanse his body of the immature seed. Now that he had dropped, he could procreate.
For Mya, the immature seed was the nectar of her gods. It was life affirming and life giving, an elixir that kept her alive. She would have to rest for many moons after her ordeal, for the Trials were as demanding on her as they were on her charges. She kept drinking, sucking, teasing his manhood and fondling those balls until they were fully dry, empty of all fluids and seeds. Achmad gave a huge, long gasping exhale and then from his nose came a tremendous snore. For Achmad it had been a period of thin sleep. The orgasm released the hormones to induce sleep and after such a long period of blue balls, he needed his sleep.
Mya looked up at the handsome prince. When he woke he would pass along to the next phase of his Trial, but he would not spend much time there. Most of her boys gained understanding with their first orgasm. They were now men, ready to rule in their world or lead their people or just continue the bloodline. She had grown fond of him. Too many of her boys had been whiners, unfit for leadership and unsuitable for much except complaint. Achmad had used his tools to his best ability and would surely be a fit King for his people.
She licked her lips. And he was tasty, too. Such a specimen she'd not had in many moons. She would enjoy her restorative slumber, the taste of his thick semen on her tongue and his rigid manhood a pleasant dream for her mind. She shuddered as the semen began to course through her body. The first of her orgasms ripped through her, causing her to gasp and reach out for support. She tottered away and disappeared into her hideyhole. But not without a few cries of her own orgasmic pleasures!
When Achmad woke, he was released from the pole. Two short weeks later, he had returned a conquering hero to his people. A year later he was married to the fairest of maidens, a plump, tender and lovely lass with gorgeous blue eyes that twinkled with wicked delights. She was his Queen and he treated her as such until the end of his time on the Throne. Years later he watched his own son, the young Prince, begin his own training, he thought back to those dark hazy days of the Blue Ball Trials. He'd not glowed blue since. For that, he was thankful.
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