Chapter 52 - A Right Royal Rimming

Alexander rested one finger, with the lightest of touches, on the very spot between the crimson hose-clad cheeks where nestled the Prince’s rosebud hole.

“Ah, there we have it, all virginal and unaware, snug and safe within your tights.”

Felix flinched as Alexander gently prodded at his puckered opening.

“No – no man has ever dared to invade me in that obscene way!” he declared.

“Well quite frankly, your Highness, it’s about time they did! You’ve been Pretty Prince Prick-tease for far too long!”

Felix squirmed desperately in his attempt to evade Alexander’s probing finger, but he was tied up so securely, every one of his efforts was in vain. The knowledge that his arsehole, protected only by that thin layer of silken fabric, was entirely at the Steward’s mercy was utterly mortifying. And soon, as predictable as sunrise, even that thin veneer of modesty would be ripped from him.

“Raise your hips a little, young man, so I can more easily roll your hose down. We wouldn’t want to tear these fine tights of yours now, would we?” Alexander made no attempt to disguise his glee. “I said to raise your hips! Raymond – I think his Highness requires another blast of the potion. That will loosen him up and make him more amenable to my intentions. Do it, slave boy! Use the handkerchief!”

Raymond scuttled over to the head of the bed, and plucked up the potion laced napkin.

“Noo!” cried the Prince in sudden desperation, but his plea was muffled by Raymond’s hand covering his mouth.

Felix tried to kick his legs in protest, as once again that familiar odour overwhelmed him. He felt the clinging material of his tights being seductively rolled past his hips and the awful humiliation of his rock-hard penis being revealed as the hosiery was slipped down.

“Mmmm,” murmured Alexander, “what a pretty pecker you have. It’s not massive by any means – but, as with all your physical parts, it’s very beautifully proportioned. How does it feel to have it exposed like this for the first time?”

He reached out a hand and cupped the Prince’s bollocks. Felix flinched instinctively at the touch.

“Don’t worry, slave Prince. I’m not going to squeeze them – yet. Just wanted to have a feel of these naked, golden balls. Very nice. And your cock is standing to attention like a well-drilled soldier. Let’s make sure it stays that way, shall we? It gives me great satisfaction, you know, that you are turned on by this humiliation.”

Felix was too woozy to reply – the potion sapping all the energy from him.

“Let me decorate your cock in the same way I have adorned your neck,” Alexander continued, as he produced another strip of leather, also glittering with red rubies – identical in every way to the slave collar save for its size. He wrapped the cockring around the Prince’s genitals with practiced ease, and pulled tight on the strap so that the engorged penis remained rock hard and bulging.

“How pretty you look, boy. But then you can see that for yourself. Raymond, take a step back, and allow his Highness to admire himself in the looking-glass!”

Through dazed and blood-shot eyes, the Prince stared up at the ceiling – to see his cock sprouting proud and vibrant from his groin, with the new glittering jewellery at its base. Once again, he was struck by what an erotic sight he made – tied, spread eagled, his legs raised in the air, with the waistband of his tights lowered now to exposed his cock and balls.

“Now for the true prize!” whispered Alexander, and, as he had done to so many unwilling male victims in the past, he pulled the waistband of the Prince’s tights down over his buttocks, to reveal that smooth crack, within which lay the most secret and private of crevices: the Prince’s asshole.

Thanks to the cunningly angled mirrors, Felix could not avoid watching. It was something akin to an out of body experience, but one which Felix was only too aware was happening to himself. The degradation was even more piquant as Alexander nonchalantly began gently to push at the Prince’s now naked hole with the tip of his finger. It was not an unpleasant sensation. Indeed, Felix’s cock jerked energetically as Alexander continued to press against that oh so sensitive flesh. He went on, applying more and more pressure, and Felix winced, knowing it would only be a matter of time before his defences were broached, and the tender muscle of his sphincter would yield to the unyielding penetration of the older man’s finger. His brain told him over and over how much he hated it, but his damn cock, aided and abetted by the infernal potion, strained – rock-hard – with lust.

“That feel good, my young Princeling?” cooed Alexander. “Your hot body is writhing about – looks very sexy you know, your tights pulled down just far enough for me to get access – but still making your legs look so damned perfect. That beautiful cock all nude and bobbing in the air, and your arse – peachy and inviting – just waiting. But I think you may be surprised by what will be the first thing I decide to push inside it.”

Felix felt Alexander’s hands running up and down his legs, stroking his thighs and calves through the lustrous satin tights, and clearly enjoying the sensation of hard muscle encased in the tightest of garments. The Prince tried to raise his head as Alexander disappeared from view, and then – his head still spinning with lust – he emitted an involuntary gasp as he felt the strangest of sensations at his arsehole: a darting, flickering, slimy protrusion. With a shudder of revulsion, he realised it was Alexander’s tongue licking and lapping at his asshole. So Master Courcey had determined to possess him by eating his arse, had he?

“Mmmm, you taste good, my Prince. I’ll go slowly with you as it’s your first time. Can you feel that? Oh I can see from your face that you can. And you’re enjoying it aren’t you? My tongue slipping into your hole!”

The Prince was not sufficiently in charge of his senses to speak, but the deepest darkest truth was he could not deny it to himself. As humiliating as it felt to be used and possessed by Alexander in this way, the sensation of having his arse licked and teased was quite incredible and possibly the most erotic thing he had ever experienced.

“It’s about to get a whole lot better!” promised the Steward, as he reached into a glass bowl at his side, and carefully placed a small peppermint on the end of his tongue. Then he came to kneel between the Prince’s spread eagled legs and positioned his tongue at the royal crevice. Finally, with the most gentle yet insistent amount of pressure he began to push his tongue, the mint balancing gently at the top, into Felix’s exposed anus.

“Oh – oh – oh,” gasped the Prince, as he felt the small pebble-like sweet enter him, followed immediately by Alexander’s adept and probing tongue.

Slowly but surely he felt the sweet travel deeper inside his anus, and then the tongue began to withdraw, depositing the mint inside him. Felix shuddered as Alexander lapped at his arsehole, sliding his tongue over the fleshy opening, darting in and out, and opening him wider.

“I could spend all day eating out your sweet arse, boy,” murmured the Steward as he went back to slobbering at the Prince’s hole. Felix squirmed – caught in the devastating humiliation of his enemy having the power to excite and arouse him in this most intimate of ways.

Alexander clutched the Prince’s naked butt cheeks, and with a deep sigh of satisfaction pulled them apart as far as he could, allowing even greater opportunity to penetrate that peachy bum. He pointed his tongue and dove in, pushing insistently as far as it would go up the royal chute: Felix gasping with longing and desire as he was teased and tormented by that talented, pulsing flap of muscle.

Alexander’s voice rang out, mocking him anew: “You’re enjoying it in spite of yourself, aren’t you, lad? How you wish you weren’t! But you can’t deny you are in a frenzy of lust from being fucked by my tongue. Well, never you fear. This tight little hole of yours is going to see a great deal of action before today is over…”

He might have gone on, but at that moment, an unexpected knock came at the door to Alexander’s chambers. Raymond looked at the Steward: would he be irritated by the interruption? Far from it, in fact, as it appeared Alexander had been expecting the visitor.

“Aha! Right on cue!” he declared. “Raymond – go and answer the door, will you?”

The curly-haired lad’s eyes strayed to his discarded doublet.

“No need for that. Just do as you’re told.”

As he left the bedchamber and crossed through the main apartment, Raymond pondered what would be Alexander’s next scheme to use and abuse Prince Felix, and whether he might once again be permitted to take a role in the debauchery.

He opened the oak door. Sir Dominic – standing guard outside – smirked at the sight of Raymond, bare-chested and clad only in his fine silver tights.

“The Chief Steward’s order has arrived,” said the knight, and, stepping to one side, he revealed, dressed in his bright pageboy livery, fat little Humphrey.

Humphrey was holding a massive tray, upon which sat two silver bowls. Each of the bowls was covered with a lid, so Raymond was not able to see what they contained.

“What do you want, Humphrey?” snapped Raymond.

“You’re not to talk to me like that, Raymond. You’re a prisoner of Lord Geoffrey now. You can stop lording it over me.”

“Why you cheeky little bastard!”

“Mistress Olwen says you’re going to get your comeuppance, Raymond. She says Master Alexander is going to punish you good and proper!”

Raymond raised his hand to strike the tubby little bitch, but Sir Dominic intervened. “I imagine the Steward is impatient for his delivery, Humphrey. We wouldn’t want to keep him waiting now, would we?”

Raymond directed Humphrey into the bedchamber, and the fat page’s jaw dropped at the sight within. There – lying on his back on the bed – was his Serene Highness Prince Felix of England, bare-chested, muscular arms tied, bejeweled slave collar at his throat, his red tights rolled down to below his buttocks, his legs and splayed in the air, a sparkling cock ring at the base of his erect and nude penis, and his arsehole on display.

Alexander was amused by the shock on Humphrey’s face. “Well, well, your Highness. Perhaps we should invite the entire staff of the castle in here so they can all gawp at your humiliating predicament! I’m sure they would all find it most entertaining!”

Alexander swatted at Humphrey’s ample bottom, bulging in its mustard-coloured hose. “Put the tray down, fatty, and be off with you. You’ve seen quite enough for now. Unless you want to participate in the entertainment, that is…”

Raymond had never seen the tubby little pageboy move so fast. The oak door clanged shut behind him.

There had been time for the Prince to recover his wits somewhat. “What foul perversion do you have for me now?” he demanded. “Or has even your depraved mind reached the end of its imagination?”

A wicked grin played around Alexander’s lips as he stepped forward, licked his forefinger and slowly slid it into the Prince’s glistening arse slit. The Prince gasped at the new invasion. “Never, your Highness. I can assure you that my imagination is a positively bottomless pit of kinky fantasies: a well that I’m proud to say has never yet run dry…”

He wiggled his long finger inside Felix’s back passage. “Oh, my little slave slut’s hole is all empty. That seems to me a great pity. And something we should remedy without delay, don’t you agree, young Raymond?”

The Prince struggled in sheer frustration, but naturally it all came to naught. He was quite securely bound, arms and legs dangling impotently in the air, and no amount of wrestling against his ties would change that. He tried to withdraw up the bed, anything to get away from Alexander’s impudent, poking finger, but he was immobile and his efforts served only to fuck himself on the Steward’s digit.

Suddenly, Alexander withdrew his finger, and, with a flourish, lifted the silver lid from the first of the large bowls. Raymond looked over with intense curiosity to see what it contained. It was a pile of fat and juicy marshmallows – pristine, white, dusted with icing sugar and bigger than any marshmallow Raymond had ever seen. Each one was nearly three inches in diameter. Meanwhile, the Prince, tied to the bed, strained his neck to try and see.

“What?!” he demanded. “What is it?”

“Oh you’ll find out soon enough,” chuckled Alexander. “And what else, I wonder, has dear Mistress Olwen provided in our other tureen?”

The second lid was duly lifted.

“Profiteroles! How delicious! Each choux pastry ball filled with fresh cream and dipped in dark molten chocolate!”

The Steward turned to address Felix,” Feeling hungry, are we?”

It took only a couple of seconds for Alexander’s meaning to sink in.

“No!” cried the Prince. “No! No! No! You wouldn’t dare!”

“Dare what, slaveboy?” enquired Alexander, all innocence.

But it was as if Felix were finally struck dumb with indignant amazement.

“Pack your royal arse with these decadent sweetmeats? Take these plump marshmallows and profiteroles and push them slowly into your hole with my long, probing fingers?” He grinned wickedly. “I have indeed played such games before. Indeed Raymond has been the victim of such entertainment in the past. But the truth is I am easily bored. Why should I wish to repeat a game I have enjoyed already? So no, I shan’t be stuffing your bum with food, young man.”

Prince Felix allowed himself to relax a little, visibly relieved.

“I shall instead make Raymond do it…”

Both young men exclaimed “What?!” in unison.

“You may well look surprised, Raymond,” smiled Alexander. “What have you done to deserve such an erotic honour, you may wonder?”

The curly-haired youth bowed his head in his meekest manner. “I hope my Master has accepted my honest and heart-felt apology.”

Prince Felix made a scoffing sound of disgust at his servant’s volte-face.

“I will however, be guiding you as you stuff the royal ass,” Alexander informed them, as he nonchalantly wandered over to one of his closets. He opened the door and reached inside. “Using this…”

Raymond gulped as Alexander brandished a long wooden pole in his direction. It was varnished and smooth but there was no doubt in Raymond’s mind that Alexander would be putting it up his bum.

“Come here, young man,” whispered Alexander. “Pull down those fine silver tights and stick out your arse for me…”

Raymond gritted his teeth, but he knew he had no choice but to do as he was ordered. He slid his hose over his pale, rounded butt cheeks, and pushed them out just as he had been instructed to. He winced as he felt Alexander’s finger nudging at his hole. The Steward had greased his finger liberally, and Raymond breathed deeply as he realised he was being generously lubed up.

“Mmm, that cunt of yours is still tight, Raymond. Quite an achievement, really, after all your experience. Are you ready? This might hurt a little.”

Raymond couldn’t help tensing his sphincter in anticipation, and then felt the blunt, bulbous end of the wooden dildo pressing against his hole.

“Ready, boy? Now – in we go…”

“Ah-ah-ah!” gasped Raymond as the first couple of inches penetrated him.

Alexander placed a ringed palm on the lad’s shoulder, as if calming a skittish colt.

“Just breathe, lad, and enjoy that big wooden truncheon pushing inside you. It’s only just inside. Plenty more where that came from. Now, you can still walk with your tights pulled down, can’t you? You may have to squat a little as you move, but try it. Yes – yes that’s right. Not too fast though! We wouldn’t want the dildo slipping out of you, would we? How else am I to guide you along if not with this big wooden handle to steer you?”

“What – what do you want me to do?” stammered Raymond.

“We’re going to see how many marshmallows and profiteroles we can insert into Prince Felix’s peachy arsehole until he’s filled right up to the brim!”

Alexander pushed his wooden truncheon a little further into Raymond’s backside and directed him towards the sideboard where rested the silver bowls rested.

“I think we’ll start with a marshmallow,” he mused.

The lad reached out with a tentative hand to select the squishy sweet.

“Oh, no, no, no,” tutted Alexander. “A big marshmallow like that will never slip inside the royal arsehole dry. It needs to be wetted and moist to squeeze into the Prince’s passage. You’ll need to slick it up with your saliva. In fact, I see no reason why you should use your hands at all for this little task. You can do it all with your mouth…”