17. The Erotic Book
“Boy! Attend on me and the prince…”
Will hurried over to the Steward’s side and followed at a respectful distance as the new arrivals made their way through the corridors of the castle.
Alexander’s mind was working quickly. He would have to play this situation very carefully indeed. Prince Felix had a tricky reputation, to say the least, and was used to getting his way in all things.
“This way, your highness. We shall be honoured to receive you in Lord Geoffrey’s own private apartments – the finest and most opulent in the castle.”
“I should expect no less,” murmured the prince.
Alexander nodded to the page boy, who opened the door to Lord Geoffrey’s richly upholstered study, and allowed his visitors to enter the room. The prince went first, closely followed by his hulking bodyguards. Alexander came in behind them, and nodded to the page to close the door.
Felix glanced around at the rich Persian tapestries that adorned the stone walls. “Adequate,” he said, tersely.
He strode over to a large leather armchair and sank into its comfortable plushness, stretching his arms and legs like a self-satisfied cat. The gigantic bodyguards took up protective positions either side of their prince, as Will waited respectfully by the door. Alexander smiled at his royal guest.
Ye gods, but the youth was beautiful, he thought to himself. His handsome head flung back, so that the shape of his pale neck lay there, just ready to be nibbled and kissed. The lithe torso, the bulge at his groin, and those impossibly shapely legs, all encased in the superb lavender hose were all enough to drive him into a frenzy of lust. Already Alexander’s mind began to wander to wicked thoughts of precisely what he would do to the young buck should he ever be fortunate enough to have him at his mercy.
“Remove my boots!” ordered Prince Felix imperiously.
Alexander nodded at Will to do as the prince commanded, and Will hesitantly took a step forward to approach the royal dignitary.
“Not him. I want you to do it.” Felix gestured disdainfully at Alexander, the merest hint of a smile playing around his full lips.
Alexander watched Will hesitate. Whom would the boy obey? Ah, thought the Steward. So this is the way it is to be, is it? He gritted his teeth, inwardly fuming at the humiliation he had been dealt in front of the lowliest junior page – a boy whom he took expert delight in using and abusing. But Alexander had not risen to the post of Lord Geoffrey’s most trusted adviser without knowing when to fight and when to concede. For now, the prince held the upper hand.
“Of course, your highness. It would be an honour.”
Alexander knelt before the young man as Felix raised his brown leather riding boot in the air. Grasping the top of the boot, he allowed his hand to brush against the taut muscles of the prince’s thigh, strong and lissom in his sensuous hosiery. God, he felt good, he thought.
One tug. Then another. And the boot came free. Felix grunted in satisfaction as he wiggled his toes in their tights. “And now the other one, Master Steward…”
The same ritual, and the other boot was also off. The prince sank his perfect, hosed feet into the thick red carpet. Then he swang one leg around and slung it casually over the arm of the chair, leaving his foot dangling, and his legs spread apart. His crotch bulged delightfully in his tights, and he sat there for a moment, allowing Alexander to drink in his masculine beauty.
Alexander rose to his feet, depositing the two sweaty leather riding boots to one side, and bowing low as he withdrew from the sacred presence of royalty.
The prince took one of his fine, bejewelled hands and ran it casually through his golden locks. “Now, I suppose you want an explanation of how I came to this God-forsaken hole of a castle.”
Alexander remained silent.
“I am here at the entreaty of my father the King. As you know, he has embarked on a righteous campaign against the heathen foe. The royal palace is full of those who would wish my father ill, and as I am his most precious and beloved possession he wanted to ensure my safety in his absence. For this reason, he has despatched me here, to the home of his most loyal servant, my godfather and your master, Lord Geoffrey de Montford. And I am to stay here as your guest until my father has returned triumphant from his military quest.
“These are my bodyguards – the bearded brute is named Ulfgar and the shaven headed ogre is Odin. They are of Viking origin and are to be shown the utmost courtesy and to be obeyed in all things. As of course, am I.
“Now I imagine I shall be making some changes around this place. After all, a little backwater such as this can hardly be expected to keep up with what is going on in more civilised climes. But if you are loyal and hard-working, you will find I can be a kindly master. However, if I become displeased, my anger will know no bounds. So consider yourselves warned. Do I make myself clear?”
“As crystal, your highness,” purred Alexander. “And I feel sure that, despite our, as you say, humble surroundings, you will find the castle a comfortable and welcoming home for the duration of your stay here.”
Prince Felix’s expression was disdainful and unconvinced. “Well, we shall see. But for now I need to bathe. How l long to be rid of the stink of horses…”
“Little backwater, he said, did he? What a nerve!”
“Yes,” Will nodded to the cook. “I’ve never heard anyone speak to Master Alexander like that. And he made him pull his boots off too! I don’t think Alexander liked it.”
“I’m sure he didn’t,” replied Olwen. “I don’t like the sound of this at all.”
“What do you know of the prince?’
The woman’s voice dropped to a whisper. “As you know, lad, I’m not one to gossip, but I hear he’s utterly spoiled. His mother died when he was an infant and he’s the king’s only heir. His father dotes on him and he’s never been criticised or corrected in his life. He’s never done a day’s work and he lounges around, believing he’s better than anyone else in the world.”
“Oh…”
“And I bet you any money he’s fussy about what he eats as well…”
Alexander quickly realised that the spoiled young Prince would be looking for any excuse to criticise the reception he was receiving at the castle. And he was seriously under-staffed for a royal visitor. Only three pages had escaped conscription into the royal army.
The first, Mortimer, Alexander considered cute in a Puckish way: his red hair, freckles and upturned nose would certainly appeal to some, and his legs encased a uniform of orange tights were shapely, if slim. It had been his height (or rather lack of it) that had meant he had been left behind when the majority of the castle’s menfolk left on their expedition.
Next was a plump boy named Humphrey. Humphrey was a cry baby, and had sniffled and sobbed himself to sleep for a good six weeks after being parted from his mother. The principal source of entertainment that he gave Alexander was that he was incredibly self-conscious about his ample bottom, which was displayed in all its bouncy glory in his shimmering green hose.
Finally there was Alexander’s secret favourite: the sexy young slutboy, Will. He’d ensured that the blond young stud was going nowhere near the war zone. He wanted his latest little tights slut nearby and available at all times…
Nothing was good enough for Prince Felix, complained Mistress Olwen to anyone who would listen. Whole dishes had to be thrown away because he had changed his mind over the menu, and he complained bitterly that there were no deer to hunt in the forest. He was becoming bored. And a bored Prince, as Alexander well knew, was a dangerous prince. This fact was brought home to him very clearly one morning about a week after the royal party had descended on de Montford Castle.
Alexander received a summons from the Prince’s bodyguard to attend him in his chambers. With a sigh of annoyance, the Steward laid aside the paperwork that had been occupying him, and, gathering up his black velvet cloak around his slim, muscular form, he made his way to the Prince.
He paused outside the grand oak doors of what used to be Lord Geoffrey’s private chambers, and which naturally enough had been requisitioned by his royal godson, and then knocked.
The heavy door swang open, and Ulfgar – the Prince’s bearded servant – acknowledged him with a grunt.
Prince Felix looked more beautiful than ever. His golden locks tumbled to his shoulders and he wore a thickly brocaded red velvet dressing gown. The gown gaped open and Alexander could see that the Prince was bare chested beneath: his pectoral muscles defined, his nipples pink and round and his stomach firm and flat. His hose was as scarlet as the gown, with golden embroidery around its waist, and it encased Felix’s muscular legs and bulging groin with indecent sensuality.
“Steward,” he said, shortly, and his full lips curled in a sneer. “What took you so long?”
Alexander merely smiled patiently. He knew better than to respond to the provocation.
“We’ve ridden out every day in search of sport and there’s nothing. Absolutely nothing. No livestock. No deer. No foxes. The tedium is driving me mad.”
Prince Felix clicked his fingers, and Odin – his other servant – appeared carrying a large leather bound book.
Prince Felix clicked his fingers, and Odin – his other servant – appeared carrying a large leather bound book.
Alexander’s composure slipped a little. The tome looked horribly familiar.
“So, I ordered Odin here to see if he could provide me with some other form of entertainment. And look at what he found – on your own bookshelf, Master Steward!”
The Prince smirked at Alexander’s growing discomfort. “I was quite at a loss when I began to read it. It seems to be some kind of a story, but the subject matter is unlike any I have come across before.”
Alexander smiled smoothly, recovering his wits. “There are many books in my library, your Highness. Many of which I inherited from the previous Steward. My duties to Lord Geoffrey leave precious time for reading and I confess I do not recognise this particularly book. If however, its subject matter offends you in any way, I will have it removed immediately.”
He leant forward to take the incriminating volume.
“Oh I’m not offended, Alexander,” replied the Prince. “Merely intrigued. And if you have not already done so, perhaps you should read some of it.”
“If my Lord wishes it.”
“Oh I do. And I’ve decided that in lieu of any other form of amusement, I should like to hear you read it aloud for me.”
Alexander hesitated. The Prince was notoriously priggish. Rumours abounded that he had never had sex with anyone, either male or female: not due to any kind of religious morality, but rather because he genuinely believed that no other human being could compare to him physically or deserved to be allowed to touch his royal cock. Nevertheless, the story was one of the most erotic and depraved in Alexander’s library. Was this all an elaborate trap to disgrace him in the eyes of the King?
“You’ve been given a royal command,” growled Odin. “Prince Felix wants to be entertained.”
“Of course. If his highness is sure…”
“Oh I’m quite sure,” the Prince said. “I’ve even marked a place for you to begin…”
Odin handed the erotic book to Alexander.
“I believe the chapter is entitled ‘Seduction of a Prince’”…
Alexander knew exactly what the chapter contained. He had masturbated many times over the contents imagining himself in the role of the Prince’s wicked uncle. He did not know precisely what Felix intended, but Alexander had a very bad feeling about it.
He cleared his throat and began to read aloud.
“ ‘ “Come here, nephew, and sit beside your favourite uncle.”
The handsome young Prince did so, his big brown eyes wide and innocent.
“Yes, uncle.”
His uncle had achieved his wish and had got the young heir to the throne all to himself. The bodyguards had been dismissed. After all –surely they could trust the young prince with his own flesh and blood, couldn’t they? His royal uncle smiled grimly to himself. The lad was distractingly pretty – eighteen years old, short and slim, with a fine silver doublet and pale blue hose that encased his lissom legs.
His uncle was not much taller than the prince, but he was broad and stocky: coarse black hair sprouted from chest, and his eyebrows were low and thick. By contrast, his legs were thick and muscular, encased in shiny, silken black tights. He felt an illicit thrill as his unsuspecting nephew sat beside him on the cushioned divan, and the crown prince’s blue thigh nestled against his own muscular leg. The uncle felt the heat of the youngster’s limb and rested his large, bejewelled hand on the boy’s knee.
“I propose a toast!” he declared. “To you, nephew! May you have a long life and many years as king. I hope you will always find me a true and loyal subject!”
He poured a generous amount of claret into a silver goblet and handed it to the prince. As he did so, his hand slid surreptitiously from the boy’s knee, up the leg to rest on the lad’s stockinged thigh.
“I am unused to wine, uncle,” giggled the prince.
“Then, lad, it is time you learned to drink.”
“Are you drinking, uncle?”
“All in good time. I want to see you drain that goblet first.”
The prince took a deep breath and, as he tipped his head backwards, his uncle’s hairy hand slid yet further up his leg until it cupped the boy’s bulge.
“Uncle!” exclaimed the prince. “What are you doing?”
“Just checking, lad. Your duties when you become king will include producing an heir to the throne. You might as well view yourself as a royal stud machine. For that is undoubtedly what you are. And we need to check that your prick is capable of getting hard and getting some foreign princess fat with squealing brats…”’”
Alexander paused. He realised that the subject matter was becoming dangerously treasonous.
“Why have you stopped?” demanded Felix.
Alexander looked for a sign of how the real-life Prince was reacting to the taking advantage of his fictional counterpart. Was he angry? Amused? Or, dared he dream it, aroused?
But the Prince’s expression remained enigmatic. And his heavy velvet gown was now drawn closed so Alexander could not even see if his hosed cock was responding to the tale.
“Continue, Steward! I’m simply dying to hear how the story turns out…”
Alexander found his place in the manuscript.
“ ‘The uncle squeezed his nephew’s cock through the boy’s tights.
“Mmm,” purred the older man. “No problems there, I should say. That’s a good firm cock if I ever felt one. And it’s getting hard if I’m not very much mistaken.”
The prince’s face flushed with a rosy glow: embarrassment or the effect of the wine? Probably both, decided the older man.
“Come now, lad. You may be a prince, but you’re not too old to come and sit on your uncle’s knee as you did when you were a babe…”
“Uncle?” replied the surprised youth.
But his uncle was gratified to see that the youth’s head was starting to droop and the word was slurred: the drug he had added to the prince’s wine was starting to take effect.
“Come now, lad, don’t you struggle. We know it’s what you want. Come and sit on your uncle’s lap…”
Effortlessly, the wicked uncle lifted the lad round his tighted waist and positioned him on his lap.
The prince tried to protest but he was no match for the brawn of his uncle. “Please, uncle, I’m not a baby anymore…”
The uncle reached around and gave the lad’s hosed dick another squeeze. “I can feel that, lad,” he chuckled. And he shifted the boy’s weight so that the lad’s taut boy-ass was positioned right over his own swollen member. He rocked his groin back and forth so his dick pressed between the tights-covered globes of his nephew’s bum.
“Uncle, please!” the prince protested, and tried to lift himself off his uncle’s lap.
“You stay right where you are, lad.” His hands roamed over the lad’s body, feeling the young, firm body encased in the silken tights: the hard thigh muscles, the bulging crotch, the pert arse. The prince wriggled weakly but his wicked uncle merely laughed. “You know your squirming only serves to excite me even more, boy…”
In one swift movement, the uncle rose to his feet, sweeping his nephew into his arms and carrying him over to the bed in the corner of the room.
“What – what are you doing, uncle?” pleaded the bewildered young prince.
“Hush, lad – or must I silence you, I wonder?”
And with that, he tossed the youth onto the richly upholstered bed. The prince’s eyes widened in a mixture of fear and bewilderment. The uncle clambered on top of him so that the youth was pinioned beneath. Quickly, he took the lad’s wrists and tied one to each of the bed posts so the prince’s upper body was stretched taut.
“Uncle, please!”
“I see you must be silenced, princeling…”
And the uncle smothered the prince’s pert pink lips with his own coarsely bearded mouth. The boy tried to pull away, outraged at the indecency of his own flesh and blood subjecting him to such an assault, but the older man was stronger, more persistent and driven into a frenzy of lust. His lapping tongue probed the young man’s mouth, pushing deeper and deeper into his throat, licking and nibbling and biting at his pale neck, as the prince began to thrash about impotently beneath him.
Eventually, the uncle paused for breath, and giving his captive nephew an evil leer, he reached behind him and pressed two of his thick fingers against the boy’s arsehole. He grunted with desire as he felt the clinging material of the boy’s tights, slightly damp with sweat, give as he pushed his fingers into the royal hole.
“Ahhh!” cried the lad. “What are you doing, uncle?”
“Long ago I decided I would be the man who took your virginity, princeling. Your arse is mine!”
A tear began to well up in the lad’s big brown eyes. “I don’t understand.”
“It’s true, then. You really are that naïve! I hardly thought it possible, but your cosseted life style has led you to this. Very well, nephew! I shall tell you precisely what I’m going to do to you. I’m going to tear a little hole in these fine blue tights of yours. And then I am going to release my giant prick from within the pouch of my hose and I am going to stick it right up your puckered little boy bum. All the way in. It will give me enormous pleasure. To take your cherry. It will feel so tight. So velvety. And I will pound and pound with no mercy until it feels as if your very body will rip in two. You’ll scream, boy. You’ll scream like some dirty little whore. Lying beneath me. Your hands tied to the bedposts, and me fucking you. Fucking you in your tights like some rent boy. Fucking you all – night – long.”’”
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