Chapter 21 - A knight in the dungeon and a night in the kennel

It was dark. So dark he could make nothing out in front of him. Nearby he heard the relentless drip of water from a broken pipe. He shivered and wished he had a scrap of blanket to wrap around his naked torso. His luxurious black tights provided no warmth and little comfort in these bleak surroundings.

Alexander Courcey sighed ruefully. How the Wheel of Fate turns, he mused. Mere months ago, in this very dungeon, he was forcing the beautiful Arab soldier, Darius, to submit to a daily diet of humiliation and anal penetration. Now here he himself lay, one hand manacled to the wall, on a bed of filthy straw. At least any prisoner kept here under Alexander’s control had been well looked after, fed, watered and exercised. He had wanted to ensure they all remained in good physical condition for whatever sexual torment he intended to mete out to them. He felt sure that his royal highness Prince Felix would not be anywhere near so considerate a gaoler.

All day long he had had ample time to mull over the dramatic shift in his circumstances. Should he have guessed that the spoiled Prince offering up his body so willingly was indeed too good to be true? Had he for the first time in his life allowed his cock to rule his head? No, he thought grimly, the beautiful young princeling had made up his mind to get Alexander out of the way from their very first encounter. Had it not been this way, he’d have found some other method. And at least Alexander had had the opportunity (however briefly) of getting his hands on that fantastic arse.

A noise startled him. Sure enough, the jangling of keys at the heavy door to the dungeon announced the arrival of his first sight of a visitor since he had been unceremoniously dumped there by the Prince’s bodyguards a mere twenty-four hours before.

He had spent the day wondering what his fate would be. Would Felix simply leave him here to rot, or would he make sure he was properly out of the way by slitting his throat? Alexander tensed as he prepared to find out one way or the other.

Sure enough, he was unsurprised to see the lumbering form of Ulfgar leading the way, carrying a flaming torch to illuminate the path for his arrogant young master. Alexander blinked at the unaccustomed light but he could see well enough to make out that the Prince was being followed by his other bodyguard.

Alexander determined not to show any weakness before the Prince and his lackeys. If he were to die, he would make sure he did it with dignity. Reasoning that he might not get a second chance, he decided to launch the first barb.

“Well if it isn’t Prince Prick-tease himself,” he called out hoarsely. “Have you changed your mind again, young man? Decided you do want my cock up your royal rump after all!”

In the dim light, Alexander nevertheless saw the Prince’s handsome features flush scarlet with rage. “How dare you?!” he shrieked, stamping his royal foot furiously.

“Come, come, your highness. Methinks the boy doth protest too much. You’ve been wiggling that hosed ass of yours at me from the moment you arrived here in the castle. Come over here and I’ll show you what a good fuck could do for you.”

Felix looked as if he were about to explode with apoplexy.

“Shall I kill him now, your highness?” rumbled Ulfgar, drawing his sword.

The Prince could barely speak. “Do it. Do it. The man is mad. Slit his throat.”

Alexander tensed himself. His goading had had the effect he expected. Death would come, but at least it would come swiftly. He had faced death before on the battlefield. In these dark and violent times, it was not unusual for a man to meet his end at the point of another’s thrusting weapon…

Ulfgar raised his sword high. In a moment it would all be over.

“Your highness!” whispered Odin from the shadows. “This is what he wants!”

Ulfgar hesitated in mid-swing.

“What do you mean?” hissed the Prince.

“He seeks a quick death. He fears being left to linger and starve. Should your highness grant the wishes of this man – a traitor, a pervert and a would-be murderer?”

Felix looked deep into Alexander’s wide eyes. “You’re right, Odin. You’re quite right. He hoped to enrage me and thus achieve his life was ended swiftly.”

Alexander’s hopes sank as the golden haired Prince exulted over him. “But I am quite calm now. And he has failed. We will lock the door behind us, Courcey. And we will leave you to rot.”

“Lord Geoffrey will not let my death go unavenged, your “highness”. You will pay the price for this.”

The Prince snorted derisively. “You’re in no position to make threats. By the time my Father and my godfather return to this country, your death will be long forgotten. And you, if you are remembered at all, will be recalled only as a grubby traitor. You forget who I am. And I have nothing to fear from your master.” He turned to leave. “Odin. Ulfgar. Maybe we should give the condemned man one final drink. Are your bladders full?”

In a moment, the two Vikings were fumbling eagerly in their leather trousers. Each produced fat, veiny cocks that pulsed with anticipation. Alexander scrambled around on the cold stone floor, but tethered to the wall as he was, he could not go far. His chain was stretched taut as the two gigantic men moved round to stand on either side of the Steward.

Odin let loose first, a steady stream of piss arcing through the air and landing with a splash on Alexander’s silken black tights. The Steward winced as the warm liquid splashed onto the material and seeped through to wet his thighs. He tried to avoid the noxious onslaught but straight away, the other bodyguard joined in, spraying his urine over Alexander’s naked shoulders and his hair.

“Come, proud Master Steward!” mocked Odin. “You must be thirsty. Take a good long drink! It is the last chance you’ll ever get.”

And he directed his cock upwards so that his piss splashed against Alexander’s bearded face. Alexander, for his part, kept his lips pressed firmly shut. He had no intention of swallowing even a droplet of the pungent fluid.

Ulfgar laughed uproariously as Odin continued to taunt the Steward. “Those fine black tights won’t smell so fine now they’re soaked in our stinking piss, will they? Ha!”

Eventually, bladders emptied, the giants put their monstrous cocks back in their trousers.

Alexander coughed and spluttered as he attempted to wipe the droplets of piss from his brow. Finally, he glared defiantly at the impudent young Prince.

 “Why do it?” Alexander demanded. “I have no power compared to you. You could have had me thrown in here the moment you arrived in the castle if that was what you wanted. Why go through the charade of pretending you wanted me to fuck you?”

The Prince looked at the Steward with contempt. “I was bored,” he said blandly.

“We will leave you now. We shall lock the door behind us and we will be the last people you ever see on this earth. Farewell, Master Courcey.”

And Alexander watched the receding forms of the Prince and his guards climbing up the stairs to freedom, before his prison cell was plunged into darkness once more.

At the doorway to the dungeon, Will waited, tethered to a rusty iron ring. He’d been instructed to stay there “like a good little doggy”, and now assumed a mutely meek countenance as the Prince and his flunkeys strode out of the door and locked it behind them, pretending he had not seen and heard everything that had taken place in the cell below. He crouched in his clinging pink bodysuit, his leather collar constricting his throat, fearful now for himself. At least under Alexander’s regime, there had been a kind of order. He’d become accustomed to having his hosed legs and arse fondled or smacked by any horny male who happened to pass by. Alexander’s experience and expertise had kept Will constantly teetering on the boundaries of fear, humiliation and arousal. However, Will sensed that the entertainment required by the bored Prince and his brutal bodyguards would be far more … unpredictable.

“Come along, doggy,” smirked Odin. “Time for you to go to your kennel.”

He untied Will’s leash and gave him a swat across his pink bum. Will hurried to crawl on all fours as Odin dragged him across the courtyard. “Let’s go walkies!”

Will heard Ulfgar issue a grumbling chuckle at the page boy’s discomfort, whose hosed knees skimmed the cobblestones. The bearded bodyguard grabbed a wooden bowl that was lying nearby and quickly dipped it in the well in the centre of the yard. Placing it down in front of Will, he pushed the pageboy’s blond head down towards the icy water.

“Drink, little bitch. Lap up all that lovely water!”

He forced Will’s face into the bowl, where he held it in place for a few moments. After what seemed an eternity, he released his grip and Will shot up, coughing and spluttering for air. This seemed to amuse the two barbarians no end.

The Prince’s authoritative tones cut through their laughter.

“I’m tired. Tie up the dog and see me to my chambers. You can play some more with your pet tomorrow.”

They’d clearly been looking forward to having some sport with Will, but Odin and Ulfgar did as they were told, tying, somewhat regretfully, the lad’s leash to a post by an old and disused wooden kennel. Will slunk miserably inside and curled up on the ratty old blanket that lay within.

“Good night, bitch,” cooed Odin. “Sweet dreams…”

Spring was in the air the following morning as day broke. It took him a moment to work out where he was. Then he smelt the dampness of the wooden kennel and felt the slinky touch of his pink bodysuit and the events of the previous night flooded back to him. The crustiness of his own dried semen at his crotch served as a reminder of his humiliation and his failure.

It had taken Will a long time to get to sleep. The conversation that he had overheard between Alexander and Prince Felix went round and round his head. Will had never believed that the Steward had been deceiving Lord Geoffrey for all those years, and now it seemed that not only had the cruel Prince duped Alexander, he was abandoning him to starve to his death…

Suddenly he heard the crunch of footsteps approaching his kennel, and then the large leather boot of Odin stepped into his view.

“Sleep well, doggy?”

Will looked up at the giant with big, brown, sorrowful eyes. “Woof?” he whimpered mournfully.

“Ha ha! Yes that’s the idea, little bitch. Now, I guess you must be hungry. Here’s a bowl with some dog food for you to tuck into.”

Sure enough, a shallow bowl containing a scattering of dry biscuits was placed in front of Will. “Make sure you eat it all up now!”

            Will was left in his kennel all morning, and the sun was well past midday by the time Odin returned.

“You’re to join your fellow worms,” he leered as he towered over the page boy.

Untying the leash from the wooden post, he tugged Will’s collar sharply. “Boy, are we going to have some fun with you!”

Prince Felix lounged in the plush red velvet throne in the middle of his chambers in the castle. He examined his pale, ringed hand languidly and ran it slowly along his thigh. His turquoise tights were patterned with an intricate diamond design that glittered in the early Spring sunlight. He knew all too well that his body had been lusted after by just about every man in his father’s army. So what if he knew that the fine, figure-hugging tights that took pride of place in his wardrobe only added to the devastating effect he had on such men? He knew that his physical appearance was directly given to him by God. All other men were brutes: animals scrabbling in the dirt, compared to his divinely given beauty.

He smiled to himself. Well, Alexander Courcey certainly learned his lesson. The presumption of the man – to think he could lay his hands on his god-like form! Well, he had his reward: crawling to death in darkness and alone.

And now here were four more grovelling creatures: their shame and humiliation almost palpable as they stood before him in their pink bodysuits. Apprehension was clearly etched on all four faces as they tried to imagine what fresh humiliation might be visited on them this afternoon.

“How are my little worms today? Did you get lots of stares as you went around in your pink tights suits? How did Mistress Olwen’s serving maid get on in her little cap and apron?”

Humphrey flushed as pink as his costume, his tummy rumbling and squelching with hunger.

“And did my dirty bitch dog sleep well in its kennel? I imagine it was humping whatever surface it could find…”

Will studiously avoided the gaze of the other boys.

“But we must get on with today’s little amusement,” the Prince continued.

“Fetch the podia!” he commanded.

At this, Odin and Ulfgar produced four wooden stools and arranged them around the room.

“Come, worms! Climb up!”

The four young men did so, a little hesitantly. Humphrey’s stool wobbled a little: one of its legs slightly shorter than the others. The fat page boy struggled to maintain his balance but he managed it in the end.

Prince Felix glanced out of the window. “As you know, I have introduced a series of austerity measures here in the castle, to make up for the profligacy of your former master. Even now, many of your former comrades and colleagues are making their way into the desolate countryside.”

Sure enough, a slow and miserable line of old men, women and girls were trudging their way through the mud, leaving behind forever the place they had thought of as home. Will followed the arrogant young prince’s gaze, and spotted Jane the kitchen-maid amongst the snaking queue of outcasts. He dared to look across at Raymond to see if his rival had noticed the banishment of his sister. The cold fury in Raymond’s eyes told him that he had.

Felix smirked at his humiliated subjects. “Don’t waste your pity on them. Who knows? By the time we’ve finished with you, you might even think they have the better deal!”

Will heard Humphrey gulp, and the fat boy’s breathing became shallower.

“Now, Odin and Ulfgar here are Vikings as you know. Cruel barbarians, bred to a life of raping and pillaging. Thus far, they have been tamed by the daily parade of young maidens – like that pert-titted kitchen-maid down there – they see around them. But with this exodus of pretty young female flesh, they demand new ways to satisfy their carnal lusts, don’t you, my men?”

The brutish Odin leered at the pink-hosed boys. “Oh yes, your highness.”

“They want to see you dance for them,” he went on. “They want to see you writhing in the most lascivious and suggestive way you can imagine. If you please Odin and Ulfgar, they will attach one of these ingenious little bells to you…” The Prince held up a jingling little brass bell attached to a clip rather like a clothes peg. “…At the end of your dance, the slut with the most bells on their body will be declared the winner. And the slut with the least will be punished …”

Will glanced across at his fellow pages. It would be hard to imagine a less erotic sight than Humphrey in his bulging pink tights suit, he thought.

Prince Felix handed the box of bells to Odin and leaned back in his throne with a smirk.

“Do you understand? Then we will begin!”