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…”

Chapter 51 - The Puppet Prince

The smell was sharp and pungent. That was the first thing he noticed: and it came as a sharp shock to his senses. Slowly, he opened his eyes, and his befuddled brain tried to make sense of where and indeed who he was. His vision was blurred, but the facts of his predicament came to him. He was lying on a bed, he was topless and his sole item of clothing was a pair of bright red tights.

He tried to move his arm, and at that moment, he felt a tugging sensation pulling first one, and then the other arm taut.

“What the Hell?!” he cried, as his vision finally swam into focus.

“Ah, our handsome Prince has awoken at last,” cooed the gloating Alexander Courcey. “And not before time. How good of your Highness to grace us with his august presence!”

Felix, fired up with sudden indignation, tried to struggle, but the ropes at his wrists, plus another wrapped around his waist and two more at his ankles, prevented any kind of movement. Suddenly, he became aware of a strange gloopy wetness adhering to his forehead and dribbling down his face.

Alexander grinned as the Prince’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“Your erstwhile servant, young Raymond here, has been busy whilst you slumbered, your Highness. Mere moments ago, he was looming over you, his rock-hard cock hanging out of the front of his tights, whilst he sprayed his boy spunk over your hunky body. I imagine you can feel it drying even now on your face and chest. Cum can be rather itchy when it dries, don’t you find?”

“Raymond! How dare you?!” exploded the disgusted Prince.

“Don’t be too hard on him. He was only doing as he was ordered. Although I fancy he did not find it too much of an ordeal. But his Highness is right, Raymond. You really should clear up your mess. Come over here.”

Felix turned his head and, for the first time, he saw Raymond lurking in the corner. Like him, Raymond was also bare-chested and clad only in his silver hose. Clearly Alexander had regarded both lads’ fine doublets surplus to requirements.

“I wasn’t particularly impressed by your prowess at licking up that custard from the floor of the Great Hall the other day,” observed Alexander. “It seems to me that you require further practice. After all, I may decide that your new role in life is to clean the castle top to toe – using only your tongue.”

Raymond swallowed instinctively, suppressing the overwhelming urge to fly at Alexander and knee him in his vulnerable, tights-covered groin.

“Hop up onto the bed again, my lad. And let’s see you lick your own cum off Prince Felix’s chest.”

Reluctance and distaste were etched across the dark young man’s face, but he knew he was outmanoeuvred, and he had no choice but to bend over the Prince’s body, and prepare to taste his own salty semen. Raymond planted his palms either side of the Prince’s naked chest and lowered his face to begin his unpleasant task. As he did so, his tights-covered crotch could not help but come to linger against Felix’s own silken bulge. An erotic thrill shot through him as their genitals made contact. And in spite of only just having emptied his load, Raymond’s meat began to stiffen once more.

“Get on with it,” snapped Alexander impatiently. “We have many more games to play and I don’t have all day!”

Raymond stuck out his tongue and tentatively began to lap at the rope of cum criss-crossing Felix’s washboard abdominals.

“Oh, and one more thing, lad! You’re not to swallow any of it. I want you to hold your cum in your mouth for now, you understand?!”

Raymond could only nod his acquiescence, although it was easier said than done, to try and prevent any of the semen slipping down his gullet. He had never acquired a liking for the taste of cum, and even though it was his own, he found the flavour of the now tepid fluid distinctly unpleasant.

“That’s it boy, suck up your own emissions... You’ve missed a blob just there by his Highness’s left nipple...”

Prince Felix seethed. “I demand you wash me properly, Courcey! This is obscene!”

“You never learn do you? You will be silent unless spoken to, Prince Bitch! Or I swear I’ll have you gagged.”

For once, Felix elected to do as he was told, and Raymond began licking around the Prince’s tit. The flesh was clearly sensitive, and Raymond could not resist brushing the nipple with his sharp white teeth.

“Ow!” yelled the Prince. “You bit me, you dolt!”

Raymond – cheeks bulging – glanced up fearfully. Alexander merely smirked.

“Your mouth is pretty full, now Raymond, isn’t it? Your cum mixed with your saliva. Ha! I can see the white liquid starting to dribble from your lips. Very well, you may now rid yourself of the fluid. And you are to empty it into the Prince’s mouth...”

Felix took an intake of breath, but before he had chance to protest, Raymond had done as he was ordered and dribbled a large globule of spittle and semen in between the Prince’s pink, perfect, pouting lips.

Quick as a flash, Alexander was at the head of the bed, where he gripped the Prince’s nose between his thumb and forefinger.

“Swallow it!” commanded the Steward. “Swallow your servant’s spunk!”

Felix coughed and sputtered, but he was left with no choice – and eventually the cum-laced saliva slipped down his royal throat.

“How did that taste? Rather a contrast to the venison and champagne that your palate has grown accustomed to, I imagine? Although I’ve always opined that the taste of boy cum does bear the slightest resemblance to caviar...”

Felix gagged as he ingested the concoction.

“Maybe we’ll leave the cum on your face as a moisturiser,” mused Alexander. “It’s a nicely humiliating reminder of your new lowly position.”

His tone of voice became sterner. “You can get off the bed now, Raymond. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you trying to grind your dick against the Prince’s, you little slut. Christ Almighty, I know you’ve been lusting after him for months but you’ve only just wanked over him. Are you fucking insatiable?! Go and stand in the corner until I decide what to do with you next.”

Raymond regretfully did as he was told, and Felix gritted his teeth as Alexander languidly came to sit beside him on the bed. Master Courcey stretched his long, purple legs out in front of him, and gazed down at the Prince’s beautiful, bound body. He tugged experimentally at one of the ropes attached to the Prince’s ankle, causing that beautiful, muscular, leg to jerk involuntarily. It looked as if Felix’s legs had been sprayed red, so tight were his tights – and the bound young man’s breathing was quick and shallow: betraying a mixture of fury and fear.

“You will not break me, Courcey,” vowed the Prince. “I have royal blood in me. Whatever depraved or disgusting act you might perpetrate upon me, I shall not grovel before you. I promise you that. And each new indignity ensures only that your charge sheet grows longer, and that your death, when it comes as it most surely will, will be more excruciating than you could ever begin to imagine.”

“An impressive speech, my lad. But I might take you more seriously if you were in a slightly more powerful position, and not spread-eagled in my bed chamber, tied up in an extremely revealing pair of scarlet tights, with another slaveboy’s dried cum splattered all over your face...”

Felix drew a breath but before he could speak, Alexander had placed his palm over the Prince’s mouth.

“You talk too much, Prince Pricktease. I’ve warned you once about the gag. I shan’t warn you again.”

Alexander smiled as Felix seemed to think better of issuing a retort. “You see – even the least promising of students can learn under my tutelage. Now, we were speaking of humiliating reminders, were we not? Raymond! Fetch that casket from the dressing table!”

Raymond found the velvet-covered box and brought it to Alexander. Master Courcey snapped open the clasp and withdrew from it: “A slave collar! Although as you’ll see this is a very special slave collar. Only the best for you, my Lord! The finest, supplest black leather, studded with gold and rubies. Red, red rubies. The colour of your tights – and the colour of whores! Which is most appropriate given what is in store for you, little Prince Pricktease!”

Felix, in spite of himself, remembered Alexander’s threat about the gag and stayed silent.

“Raymond, let’s see this fine jewelled collar strapped around his Highness’s throat!”

Raymond’s nimble fingers worked quickly, threading the thick collar around Felix’s muscular neck, even as the Prince glared at him.

“Feels humiliating, I bet – being collared like a dog by your former servant, no matter how pretty and glittering the adornment? And yet you’ve always enjoyed pretty adornments, haven’t you, my little Prince? I can see your muscles tense in fury – your strong pectorals, your thighs in your tights bunching at the humiliation. But you’re totally powerless – nothing you can do to stop me degrading you in any fashion I see fit. What a shame. What a damned shame.”

Raymond watched in fascination as Alexander goaded the Prince. He could tell it was taking all of Felix’s willpower not to spit directly in the Steward’s face.

“Now, my lad. I do believe you’re about to enjoy this experience a whole lot more.”

“What do you mean?”

“Remember all those months ago when you lured me to your bedchamber with the offer of me using you as my slavebitch? You ground your crotch against my hand with all the practised ease of a Dunchester whore. You promised me your body that day, young Felix. And I have come to claim what I was promised.

“You see those bottles sitting on the shelf over there?” Alexander continued. “They are all powerful potions. The first I used to knock you out. The second to revive you, but the third... Ah the third is the best one. That will, with the merest sniff, drive a man with even the most humdrum and conventional of libidos, into a frenzy of lust. And by happy coincidence, this handkerchief I have here has been liberally doused in that very concoction!”

There was no time for Felix to react before the square of cloth was rammed against his face. He tried to resist, to hold his breath, anything. He knew from past experience, how powerful and overwhelming the concoction was. He tried to avoid inhaling the evil brew, oh how he tried, but pinioned in position as he was, all he could do was thrash his limbs about in protest. He fought with his naked arms and his hosed legs, but Alexander’s grip was strong, and very soon, his strength evaporated as his mind and body were flooded with lust.

Satisfied that his royal victim had inhaled a sufficient dose, Alexander removed the handkerchief. Felix gazed upwards through the fug in his mind as the Steward savoured his moment of triumph. He looked like a wolf about to devour his prey. Alexander licked his lips, and lurched forwards.

Felix’s heart pounded. His blood raced round his body as his new master sank into him. He smelt the scent of the man first: traces of cologne mixed with the heady aroma of fresh perspiration. The Steward was clearly excited at the prospect of having the Prince at his mercy. Felix tried to fight the intoxicating allure of the potion which drew him inexorably to the heat of another human being – any other human – in order to satisfy the rising tide of lust within him. But his cock seemed to have a mind of its own. And even though he knew it was due to the evil effects of the potion, he felt a desperate flush of shame as his cock began to harden. Without having to look, he felt his swelling dick rise and tent within the tight red constriction of his hose.

It took all the effort Felix could muster to try and fight the poison in his veins and turn his head away from Alexander Courcey’s lips. But the Steward was having none of that! He grabbed the Prince’s square jaw in his unrelenting grasp and, without any further hesitation, planted a long kiss on Felix’s mouth.

Felix tried to clamp his mouth shut to avoid Alexander’s long probing tongue, but the older man would not be dissuaded from his goal. Felix felt the soft black bristles of Alexander’s beard brush against his tanned, flawless skin. Even through the haze of lust, he bridled at the weirdly obscene intimacy of being taken and kissed by another man: the combination of masculinity as Alexander’s strong arms held him down. Indeed it was if Alexander himself had partaken of the potion, such was the intensity of his ardour. His moist lips worked at those of the Prince, smothering him so that Felix was left barely able to breathe, as if he would suck the very life essence out of the young man.

His tongue swirled inside the Prince’s mouth, their lips pressed ardently together. He was a good kisser, that much was true, and he seemed to know all the right buttons to push in order to work on and increase Felix’s burgeoning libido.

Then, at some strange and indeterminate moment, rather than fighting him, the Prince gave into the insistent onslaught and began to respond: the potion driving him on in a frenzy of long, deep, passionate kisses.

Raymond, forgotten about in the corner of the room, looked on longingly: how he wished he might be invited to join the masculine orgy on the bed. Instead, he had to make do with only his own hand to rub at his tights-clad groin.

On went Alexander, licking, lapping, slobbering at the defenceless beauty he had so efficiently trussed up. He could have gone on kissing that stunning, chiselled face of hours. Especially as the intoxicated Prince was now panting in response. But Alexander reminded himself that he had other plans for his newest slave victim.

He stepped back to admire the sight of the young Prince. A dastardly grin spread across his face.

“Now, your highness, I think it’s about time I made you a little less comfortable. After all we can’t have you lazing about in your tights in bed all day, can we?”

“Wha-?” mumbled the Prince, still flushed from the after effects of the potion. Alexander’s saliva lying wet across his cheek.

But Alexander’s meaning became apparent all too soon. The Steward grasped the free ends of the cluster of ropes, dangling from the pulley system on the ceiling, and, slowly but surely, he began to tug. Felix looked around him wildly as all at once, his arms and legs began to rise into the air.

Then, in a sudden and unexpected movement, Alexander let the rope go and the Prince’s legs dropped a little. Instead, the Steward selected another cord and began to jerk this - the rope fixed to Felix’s right arm.

“Like a marionette!” crowed Alexander. “My little puppet Prince. A beautiful doll for me to play with and manipulate! I can make your arms go up in the air like this! Or I can send them plummeting to the counterpane! I can pull your strings and send your legs flying into the sky – and then I can yank – yank – yank them so that they are spread as wide as they can go! Shall we try that, eh? Pulling those divinely muscled legs of yours apart so they’re stretched in delicious tights bondage?”

Felix was powerless as Alexander demonstrated the range of positions he was capable of forcing him into. And then, once he had tired of this little game, Alexander made his adjustments carefully to ensure that each of the Prince’s limbs were indeed stretched as far and as wide as they would go. He tied off the end of the ropes, and he purred with satisfaction at the sight of Felix’s muscular legs, encased in their figure-hugging scarlet tights, pulled apart, toes pointing to the ceiling, the groin and ass left vulnerably and enticingly available…

“Are you ticklish, I wonder, my puppet Prince? Raymond – come here! I can see you’re itching to get your hands on the Prince’s body once more. Here are the soles of the royal feet – only that thin layer of stretchy fabric to protect them. Show our captive here just how you can torment his stockinged feet!”

Raymond did not need to be asked twice. Alexander repositioned himself at the Prince’s head, handkerchief in hand, and administered another dose of potion to the trussed up royal.

Once more Felix fought the aroma, but once more it transported him to a heavenly Hell of sexual desire.

“You look so beautiful like this, your Highness,” remarked Alexander. “It is indeed a shame that you cannot see your own predicament. Let us remedy that!”

And with a flourish, the devilish Steward ripped the drapes from the chamber’s walls to reveal that every surface – even the ceiling – was now covered with mirrors. Felix could not avoid the sight of himself in his degrading and inescapable bondage: his arms, biceps bulging, pulled tight away from his chest and straining towards the ceiling, his scarlet legs tugged in opposite directions and spread wide like a common slut. His beautiful face, smeared with his own servant’s white cum, and red with exertion and the effects of the poison, stared back at him. And this image was reflected in every surface – over and over. There was simply no avoiding the sight of his own humiliation. And mortifyingly, the mind-altering effect of the potion changed even his response to the image.

In spite of himself, he found himself becoming aroused by the sight of his own tights-clad legs, his peachy arse bulging in his hose. His narcissism manifested itself through the mist of the poison and began to work against him. He was beautiful, and in bondage, his muscles straining, he could see what a gorgeous animal he was. And he understood how his beauty could not help but drive those around him mad with lust. Unluckily for him, he was entirely at the mercy of such a man.

He felt Raymond’s hands on his legs, roaming up and down, sliding against the soft silkiness of his tights, teasing and tickling his calves and the soles of his feet. He kicked his legs to try and avoid the torment, but there was no escape. The tickling went on and on and on, just as Alexander pushed the handkerchief harder against his face.

It seemed to last forever, and still there was no avoiding the punishment. All the while, Alexander’s mocking laughter rang in his ears.

After what seemed an eternity, the Steward appeared to decide that Raymond had had enough fun. Felix watched, hysterical and exhausted, as Alexander moved to the end of the bed, slapped Raymond’s round backside with a ‘thwack!’ and ordered him back into the corner of the room.

The Steward paused dramatically as he came to stand at the end of the bed.

“And now we come to the crux of the matter, do we not, your Highness? That most intimate, most private and taboo of spots. The place where no man has gone before – the royal arsehole.”

Felix blanched.

“Now don’t look so surprised. Why on earth do you think you were administered a powerful laxative last night? It was to purge you of any, shall we say, extraneous matter? I have no desire to wallow in your shit, not matter how royally divine you may consider it. And as you are now cleaned inside and out, our fun can begin in earnest.”