Chapter 14 - The Bird of Paradise

The weeks passed and autumn’s chill turned more wintry. Will marvelled at the fact that the once daunting castle now felt almost like home. The months he had lived here eradicated his old life as if it were only a dream.

And his new life was undoubtedly more straightforward now that Raymond was no longer a part of it. He saw little of Jane, as fate conspired to keep them apart but, strangely, Will no longer seemed to mind very much. Whenever he tried to conjure up Jane’s pretty little body, the fantasy was replaced by that of the strong, masculine torso of his master, Alexander.

For his part, the Chief Steward did his best to keep his promise to tutor the young page boy personally, although his many other duties meant that he did not use the boy’s body as frequently as he would have liked: much to his frustration.

The slut was positively born to be used and abused: the combination of youthful beauty and his naturally submissive manner brought out all of Alexander’s basest instincts. And he had every intention of indulging them.

Still, there was plenty else to do. War loomed, and it remained unclear exactly what the King would require of Geoffrey to provide in terms of manpower from his domain. Alexander had fought in wars in his youth, and had taken full advantage of the many opportunities offered by an environment, where horny knights and squired lived side by side, fucking one another as if each day were their last (as well it might prove to be). But that was history, and he firmly intended to remain here in his comfortable apartments at the castle if it were at all possible.

Then there was the breaking-in of Darius, the arrogant Arabian soldier, to continue. He was making progress. The gorgeous specimen’s will was gradually being eroded. But he needed to do more if his plan to incorporate the hunk into the lavish birthday banquet he was organising for Lord Geoffrey was to come to full fruition.

All of which left precious little time to work on young Will. He managed to summon him a couple of times to his plush bedchamber, and on each occasion, he had given him some expert tuition on sucking cock (the boy showed real talent and was learning to take his manmeat deep into his slutty throat) and had finished each lesson with a good fuck. But he was a busy man, and there were only so many hours in a day after all…

Finally the day of the grand banquet dawned.

Will had been ordered to rise even earlier than usual. Alexander was pulling out all the stops to ensure that Lord Geoffrey’s birthday celebrations were more spectacular than ever – and that meant all hands on deck.

The blond lad had spent the day rushing hither and thither, making deliveries and passing on messages. More often than not, if they involved an older male member of the castle’s staff, he was bent over their laps for a sound spanking on the seat of his tights, for some flimsy pretext or other. He could barely remember a time when his arse wasn’t smarting from being belted by some horny older man.

Finally the sun set, and the entire population of the castle crowded into the Great Hall to share in the festivities. Gay garlands of flowers and bright streamers festooned the vaulted ceiling, and the room was crammed with laughter and bright-eyed excitement. As well as a sumptuous banquet, there were rumours that the entertainment that Alexander had devised would be bigger and better than anything they had seen.

As usual, Lord Geoffrey sat at the centre of the top table, surrounded by his favourite knights. Geoffrey’s powerful shoulders were cloaked in flowing golden robes, and his handsome face was already flushed from the wine he had imbibed. His companions, Will noted, were equally physically blessed, and their muscular thighs bulged impressively in their hose.

Meanwhile, thick crimson drapes had been hung at the far end of the Hall and gossipy servants speculated what they could possibly be concealing!

Suddenly a kerfuffle in the corner of the Grand Hall made Will turn. Whispered giggles emanated from the area of the disturbance, and Will saw the crowd part to allow a newcomer to enter. The new arrival was an old, old man – wrinkled and shrivelled, his head almost bald save for a few straggly white hairs. His mouth was crabbed and sour, and he squinted as he looked around. He was dressed in a long robe, which once presumably had been opulent, but now was stained and tattered.

The old man was sitting in a wheeled chair and was being pushed along. Will gulped as he saw who was attending him, and in a split second, the identity of the man fell into place. This, then, was Sir Wilfrid, Geoffrey’s lecherous old uncle, and the wan, miserable youth manoeuvring him into place at the end of the top table was none other than Raymond.

Lord Geoffrey glanced across with a look of slight distaste. “Uncle! I wasn’t sure if you would be joining us.”

“Hoped I wouldn’t, more like,” spat the repulsive old man. “You might like to keep me out of sight and out of mind, but I hear some entertainment is afoot…”

Wilfrid licked his cracked lips like a serpent. “Boy!” he snapped. “I need to piss.”

Raymond appeared at his side, his face pale and nervous.

“What are you waiting for?” demanded the old man. “You know what to do. Doesn’t make any difference to me that there are all these people here. Pull your tights down!”

Raymond cast his eyes to the floor with a look of abject humiliation. Reluctantly, he rolled down the waistband of his yellow hose, exposing his buttocks to the Hall. A chuckle ran around the room, particularly from those who remembered the youth’s pride and arrogance.

“Hurry, boy! I can’t hold on much longer!”

Will watched in bewilderment, wondering what bizarre act was about to take place. His curiosity was soon satisfied.

Miserably, Raymond parted Sir Wilfrid’s disgusting robes, revealing a flash of parched naked skin beneath, and he sat himself down on the old man’s lap. The boy wriggled uncomfortably, his one hand fiddling beneath his buttocks.

“Ahhh,” said Wilfrid. “In we go. Good job your hole is still tight, boy. Are you ready to receive?”

Raymond nodded his head, and laughter began to ripple about the room as it became clear that the old man was relieving himself into Raymond’s arse. Will watched as the youth was forced to take the piss into his butt, and was surprised to see his cock began to twitch at the notion. All around the room, other men adjusted their tights-clad bulges, also clearly aroused by the display.

“Very well,” announced Wilfrid eventually. “I’m done. Off you go and empty yourself…”

Raymond gingerly lifted himself off his master’s cock and pulled up his tights in a vain attempt to salvage some kind of dignity.

“Hurry now! You know I like to have you on my lap at all times, bitch!”

Raymond waddled away, his stomach bulging and his arse sticking out as he fought to prevent his master’s piss from flooding out of his backside and soiling his yellow hose, Lord Geoffrey’s knights laughing and mocking him as he passed by.

Suddenly Will was aware of a presence at his shoulder.

“I hope you’re happy,” a feminine voice spat in his ear.

Will turned in surprise. “Jane!” he gasped. “I hoped I’d see you today…” He faltered as he saw the twisted, spiteful look on her pretty face.

“Well I never want to see you again, you little shit.”

“But... I don’t understand… I thought… I thought…”

“You thought what? That I fancied you? Ha! As if I could ever feel anything for a disgusting little catamite like you. Your arse is only good for one thing. And it and you are of no use to a normal girl like me.”

Will bit his lip at his sweetheart’s cruelty. “But what could I do?” he stammered. “I’m only a servant. I’ve had to go along with whatever Alexander has ordered me to do. He told me if I didn’t that he’d do it to you.”

“As if he’d have any interest in laying a hand on me,” the girl scoffed.

“But what you said to me, about my being brave. And handsome.”

“I lied, you moron.”

Will stared at her in bewilderment.

“For God’s sake, how do you think Alexander found out that we’d been fumbling in the stables?”

“It was you?”

“That’s right, genius! And it was also me who went and told Yorick that you were in his workshop trying to steal some clean tights.”

“But why? Why would you do that?”

“Family loyalty. You replaced my brother and he hated you as a result. So he asked me to help out to get you into as much trouble as possible.”

“Your – your brother?”

“And now he’s been sent to wait on that disgusting old man, and been humiliated in front of everybody in the castle! I’ll never forgive you for this, pageboy!”

And with that, Jane fled from Will’s side.

The blond page boy’s head was reeling. To think he’d done everything Alexander wanted in order to save Jane the ordeal herself – and it was her fault that he was in the predicament in the first place.

He did not, however, have long to ponder the callous way he had been deceived and manipulated by Raymond and Jane. A sudden blare of trumpets caused the whole of the castle’s inhabitants to turn their heads, as Alexander made a grand entrance through the Great Hall’s large oaken doors. The Steward bowed low before his master.

“Your Lordship. May I and the rest of your servants join to wish you the happiest of birthdays!”

He strode over to where the vast crimson drapes were hanging. As he did so, Will noticed Raymond shuffling back into the Hall, seemingly having rid himself of his obnoxious load. He was doing his utmost to appear as unobtrusive as possible, as he gingerly lowered the waist band of his tights, and with desperate resignation, he returned to Sir Wilfrid’s lap, the old man cackling as he slid his soft prick into the boy’s yielding backside.

“The preparations for this evening have been many months in the making – and your birthday gift has required considerable training, but I hope that your Lordship feels that my efforts have not entirely been in vain!”

Alexander clapped his hands, and the red curtains parted a little, to allow the two guards from Alexander’s torture chamber to wheel in a large object. Will could not discern immediately what it was, as it was concealed beneath a large black cloth, but it was shaped like a giant bell jar, perhaps six foot in height.

The assembled audience whispered to each other, wondering excitedly what could be concealed beneath the black drapery.

“I have sought near and far to find a gift worthy of your Lordship, and I believe I have discovered a rare and valuable specimen for your delectation. This creature was wild at first, but now it is as tame as a puppy. From the darkest depths of Arabia, may I present – the Bird of Paradise!”

And with that, Alexander tugged at a cord so that the black drape slipped to the floor. The whole room strained their necks to see what lay beneath.

It was a giant birdcage – wrought in iron and in the shape of a bell jar. The gaps in the bars were large enough for the spectators to see through, but not enough for the captive to escape. And what a captive!

Alexander surveyed the room with satisfaction to see the effect that the animal formerly known as Darius, the proud soldier, had upon the assembled throng. He was a far cry from the noble and imperious man he had purchased in the slave market all those months before. His physique was as impressive as ever, but he was now transformed into an exotic bird.

He had been shaved from neck to toe, with only his long, luscious raven locks remaining. All other hair had been ruthlessly removed from his masculine form. Then he had been coated in honey and dipped in black goose feathers. The down clung to his body, and the hunk was naked save for a slinky black thong which just managed to cover the bulge at his crotch.

Perched atop the slave’s head was a magnificent head dress of black and blue feathers, with a large golden “beak” perched atop it. Finally, protruding from the slave’s arse was a vast plume of feathers, firmly lodged in place via a well-positioned butt plug.

The slave-bird had been placed on a wooden swing that descended from the roof of the cage, and as the ludicrous sight sank in for the assembled crowd, along with the realisation that this was formerly one of their fiercest and most feared enemies, tittering laughter spread around the Great Hall.

Darius bit his lip. His spirit may have been broken by the kinky desires of Alexander, but this new humiliation, appearing in front of all his enemies, tarred and feathered in a slinky black thong, with a large peacock tail buried deep in his burning arse hole, took him to his lowest point yet.

“The proud peacock!” taunted Alexander.

Geoffrey rose to his feet. “This is indeed a worthy gift, Alexander. You have outdone yourself!”

Alexander accepted the praise with a small smile. “There is more, your Lordship. The slave-bird has been trained for your Lordship’s entertainment.”

He took an iron key from his pocket and unlocked the door to the giant bird cage.

“Come, slave-bird!” he beckoned.

The Arabian slipped from his perch and cautiously stepped through the doorway.

“Now you’re going to behave yourself, my pretty bird, aren’t you?” whispered Alexander through clenched teeth.

Darius remained silent but bowed his head in submission.

“Now show your master how you cluck, chicken!” commanded the Steward.

Darius glared at Alexander, a final moment of defiance in his eyes, but the older man held his gaze and, eventually, the former soldier surrendered his will.

The room fell silent as this perfect specimen raised his leg, in imitation of the strut of a bird. His feathered, muscular calf came down in a first tentative step, as a stifled giggle rang out in the Hall.

Alexander smiled smugly. “Come now, bird-boy. A little more energy is required, methinks!” He prodded the Arab’s muscular arse with his booted foot.

Darius – his head swimming with shame – picked up speed, his arms flapping at his sides like wings, his arse forced to stick out obscenely due to the giant feathered tail that swished as he mood.

More laughter from the spectators, and Alexander’s voice rang above the noise. “Cluck, bird-bitch! Cluck!”

Tentatively at first, the soldier began to imitate the sound of a chicken, and as his voice grew stronger and his clucking more confident, the jeers and catcalls from his audience only increased.

“Good, slave-bird! Good!” cried Alexander. “What a sight you are! A former soldier, proud, respected, reduced to this! Shaved, tarred and feathered, with a big bird tail coming from your butt, being forced to circle the Hall like a chicken – clucking and strutting like a ridiculous bird!”

The castle’s residents burst into applause, delighted by Alexander’s speech.

“Enough!” called the Steward. “Now, your Lordship, with your permission… I think it is time that our exotic peacock here laid an egg for you!”