Chapter 64 - A Champagne Celebration

         Will didn’t quite understand it himself, but he knew in the deepest, darkest parts of his soul, he wanted it to happen. He licked his lips, gazed into Alexander’s dark, cat-like eyes and nodded.

Alexander grinned triumphantly. “You won’t regret this, boy.”

Will was divested of his waistcoat and pumps, leaving him wearing only his slave collar and sheer, white tights. Alexander led him in to the bedroom.

“And it seems you’ve finally accepted your true nature,” he hissed in Will’s ear. “You struggled at first, I know. But now you know you need to be used and abused. You’re just my tights-wearing bitch boy.”

Alexander took Will’s wrist and led him to the bed. He took a silk scarf and tied Will’s left arm to one bed-post, and then his right arm to another. He drank in the sight of the sexy, bare-chested youth, clad only in his clinging white tights. He was aware of the all too apparent danger that might come from merely gazing at the boy. All these months of fantasising …He hadn’t dared dream that he would ever be able to use the page-boy again. And now he could.

Will looked up at his master anxiously. There was no turning back now. He had willingly submitted to whatever Alexander had in store for him. He tugged slightly, testing the bonds at his wrists, but they were secured as surely as night follows day. He writhed a little, enjoying the sensation of the silken sheets against his hosiery, knowing the sight of him wriggling his legs would excite Alexander. 

The next thing he knew, that familiar bottle of potion was thrust under his nose.

“Breathe deep, bitch,” murmured Alexander. And Will did so.

The potion coursed through his veins, making every fibre of his being feel charged with eroticism. 

“Open wide, slut.”

Will did as he was told, and was rewarded with another mouthful of champagne as Alexander kissed him: long and hard and deep.

Then Alexander’s warm, manly hands were all over his body: stroking, groping, pinching. His nipples were taken between Alexander’s lips and nibbled till they became hard and erect. Will groaned in ecstasy as Alexander rubbed his hard cock through the sheer fabric of his white tights.

Then he felt Alexander’s face buried between his arse cheeks: his master breathing in the scent of Will’s rosebud hole. Alexander’s tongue pressed through the hosiery, pushing and probing at that darkest and most intimate of places. Will moaned again. 

“Yes, Sir, please, Sir,” he incanted.

“What, boy? Tell me what you want.”
“I want … I need you in me, Sir. I need my tights master in my boy hole.”

“Oh how your master loves to hear you beg…”

Will gasped as he felt Alexander’s fingers tearing the delicate material. And then it came - the glorious sensation of Alexander’s wet tongue slobbering at his hole, at first merely licking and teasing at the edges, before pushing deep, deep inside of him.

Pre-cum leaked from Will’s excited cock, staining the front of his tights. Alexander had not lied when he told Will he would devote himself exclusively to the younger man’s pleasure. Will’s hole was licked and sucked with the expertise of a Dunchester whore, and Will gasped in ecstasy as his sensitive opening was pleasured by Alexander’s tongue.

Eventually, just as Will began to think he might climax from the sheer sensation of being rimmed, Alexander knelt up.

“As this is a celebration, my lad, I think it calls for more champagne, don’t you?”

Alexander slipped into the other room and fetched a couple of bottles from the ice bucket. “I’m going to give that hole of yours a real treat, boy.”

Will gazed up woozily and watched Alexander uncork the bottle.

“Let’s get it nice and fizzy, eh?”

Alexander placed his hand over the aperture and proceeded to shake the bottle vigorously.

“Here we go…”

Then, removing his palm at the very last moment, he pushed the neck of the bottle into Will’s well-lubricated arsehole.

Will cried out in shock as he felt the ice cold liquid shoot inside him. It wasn’t the first time his guts had been flooded with alcohol: that had been at the hands of the devious Ebony, back in the filth and squalor of Lunk’s hideout. But that had been mere cheap grog, not this luxurious libation, directly from Sir Geoffrey’s wine cellar.

“What an extravagant treat, for you, young pageboy! A champagne enema!” Alexander cried.

The acid liquid stung his sphincter, and Will’s body convulsed with shock as the gassy fluid flooded deep into his bowels: “Ah! Ah! Ah!”

Alexander lifted Will’s ankles over his head so his arse was pointing up in the air, ensuring the bottle was vertical so its contents could more easily glug into the boy’s anal cavity. Then he started to fuck Will with the bottle itself - in and out, in and out - depositing even more of the champagne into the lad’s helpless body as he did so.

Eventually, Alexander withdrew the bottle and its still fizzing contents began to spray around the room. 

“Open wide, boy! Take a good swig!”

Alexander tipped the liquid into Will’s mouth, the younger lad gulping eagerly to try and swallow its contents.

“Drinking champagne at both ends of your body,” murmured Alexander. “How delightful decadent! Oops-a-daisy - it looks like I’m being a little careless.”

And with that, he began to pour the liquid all over Will’s body, letting it fall in spurts, first soaking the boy’s hair and face, before proceeding to drench his white tights. Will quickly began to feel light-headed as the alcohol infused his bloodstream. His cock remained hard as ever as Alexander baptised him with the champagne: an obscene parody of the religious rite. Alexander himself took a swig from the bottle. 

“Excellent vintage!” he declared. “Only the best for you, my sweet little slut!”

Then he was back kneeling between the boy’s thighs. Alexander massaged Will’s pulsing arsehole with his fingers, and then, without warning, he plunged the bottle back into the orifice, depositing the rest of the champagne inside the boy’s bum. Only once he was sure the bottle was empty, did Alexander remove it, tossing it casually into the corner of the room.

“It’s no use,” he admitted. “I cannot wait any longer.”

And with that, he lowered Will’s tights-clad legs and rested them on his own shoulders. 

“I don’t think I’ve fucked a boy with an arse full of champagne before…”
Will held his breath in preparation for the onslaught. He did not have to wait long. It had been several months since he had been penetrated by a real cock: not since the thieves and ruffians of Lunk’s gang had subjected him to their relentless onslaught. The Abbot, after all, had stopped short of putting his own stubby dick inside him - a fact for which Will was eternally grateful - and had instead used only his fingers and the wooden dildo on Will’s puckered opening. It had been even longer since he had been fucked by Alexander’s sinuous man-meat. But once experienced, the Chief Steward’s prick was not easily forgotten. Will gritted his teeth as he felt the mushroom head nudging at his sphincter. And as Alexander forced it inside him, a cry of agony and ecstasy escaped from his throat, just as a spurt of champagne escaped from his arse. The acidic fluid made Will’s hole tingle on its exit just as it had on its way in, but it was not at all an unpleasant sensation. Alexander paused for a moment to allow Will to become accustomed to the presence of that monstrous cock inside him. And then he began his onslaught: slowly at first, and then with growing urgency, rocking back and forth. As Alexander’s cock churned up the gassy liquid, Will could not help but emit a loud belch.

Alexander merely laughed. “Oh your sweet, satiny chute is as delightful as ever! That’s it boy, clamp down on my cock. Remember how good it feels to have your tights-master fucking you…”

Will did remember. And there was no resistance now: no guilt or anxiety.  There was no point fighting it any longer. He finally accepted his vocation. He was a tights slut. He existed merely to provide pleasure to his master. And finally he admitted to himself that he wanted it, needed it, indeed craved it, just as much as Alexander did.

Alexander’s cock continued to plunge into the lagoon of champagne inside Will’s arse. The last time he had fucked Will was on the dirty dungeon floor, in the straw and the piss; a stolen, frightened, desperate fuck, certain it would be the last chance he’d ever get to possess this beautiful boy. And now, he thought, look at the squirming little slut! Will’s white tights were rendered transparent from the soaking with the champagne, the potion coursed through the lad’s body, his hole clenching against Alexander’s cock as he ploughed in and out of that sexy little body.

It was no use. He could hold back no longer. With a triumphant cry of ecstasy, Alexander came, shooting his load into Will’s body, as another spurt of champagne leaked from the page-boy’s arse. Will’s body bucked as Alexander filled him with his jism, lacing the champagne with his cum.

Alexander’s orgasm went on and on: all the pent-up months of desire for the peasant boy finally fulfilled. After what felt like an eternity, he withdrew his cock, champagne and semen dripping from its end and, squatting beside Will’s face, slapped him across the cheek with it.

“Lick it, bitch,” he commanded, and Will did so: his tongue lapping up the droplets as eagerly as a mongrel laps up water from the street.

“Now, do you want to cum, too?” he teased. “Or shall I just leave you here, tied up until pretty little Iris comes to change the bed linen?’

“Oh, please, Sir,” gasped Will. “Please let me cum!”

His cock strained against the enclosure of his clinging white hose. 

“Hmm… We shall see. Let’s top you up first.”

Alexander strode into the other room and fetched another bottle of champagne. 

“You’re to keep the rest of that champagne inside you. I want you to release it when you cum.

Alexander shook the new bottle vigorously, a leering grin spreading evilly across his face. Then, quick as a flash, the bottle was uncorked, and losing as little of the fizzy drink as possible, he rammed the opening up Will’s pulsing hole.

Will almost came in that instant as once again the cold shock of the champagne shot deep inside his body. His stomach gurgled and cramped as Alexander filled him up.

“Breathe, boy, enjoy those cramps as they torture your poor guts! They’re your reward, after all!”

The discomfort of his cramping belly only turned Will on even more: Alexander’s hands seemed to be everywhere, forcing more of the potion under his nose, groping him through his sodden tights, tweaking, pinching, slapping, rubbing, and finally wanking Will’s rock-hard dick through the sheer hosiery.

The bottle was withdrawn, and now Will’s task was to keep the fluid inside him, as his bowels gurgled and churned. He clenched his sphincter tight, every sinew straining to obey his Tights-master’s order. 

Alexander wanked Will’s cock urgently, frantically. And just as Will felt the sensation building, and just as he was about to come, Alexander abruptly stopped.

“Oh I could spend all night long edging you closer and closer, boy. Imagine it! To be brought so close only to be perpetually denied the ecstasy of release.”

Will could hardly imagine anything more devastating - and tantalising.

Soon Alexander was rubbing Will’s cock again, just as another cramp hit the boy’s belly. Alexander prodded and rubbed Will’s bulging abdomen.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” cried Will. “Oh I’m close, Sir! I’m so close!”

“Then come for me, Tights-bitch, and spray that champagne enema out of your slutty hole!!”

Will did not need to be told twice. As the next wave of cramps hit him, he squeezed his bowels, and the flood of liquid spurted out of his anus, just as his thick cock streamed wave after wave of wet hot jism into his sodden tights. He screamed in ecstasy as Alexander laughed joyfully to see the effect his erotic ministrations had had on the boy.

The orgasm seemed to go on and on and on. But eventually the waves subsided, and the panting boy lay gasping for breath, soaked, but happy. The scarves at his wrists were loosened and he was released from his bondage.

And then Alexander held him, in a warm and affectionate embrace. The older man gazed down thoughtfully at the peasant boy.

“And did we enjoy that, my little tights-slut?” he asked.

“Oh, yes, Sir,” gasped Will. “Oh yes, I did.”

“Your quest was successful then, my friend.”

Sir Geoffrey smiled benignly at his Steward.

“It was indeed, my Lord. The page boy seems remarkably resilient. In spite of his travails at the hands of Prince Felix, and his adventures on the road, the boy has survived.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Alexander. What will become of him now? Is he to return to his duties at the castle?”

“I think not, my Lord. I am still mulling over his future. With your permission, I think I shall keep him lodged in my chambers. At least for now.”

“Given your loyal service, I think making a gift to you of this particularly enchanting young man is the least I can do.”

“My Lord.” Alexander bowed deeply.

“Now, to other matters. Christmas will soon be upon us, and after the terrors and traumas that we have all suffered over the past year and a half, I think we should throw a Winter festival here at the castle and invite all the villagers and townsfolk from miles around. What say you, my friend?”

“A wonderful idea. And perhaps - I can arrange some entertainment?”

‘Alexander, you know, I think that would be a wonderful idea.”

Chapter 53 - Stuffed in Scarlet

Alexander cuffed Raymond’s hands behind his back, telling him, “Just to make sure you don’t cheat!” Then he grasped the end of the wooden truncheon poking into the boy’s greased-up sphincter and pushed it an inch or so deeper inside.

“Now,” he said, “let’s see that talented, slippery tongue of yours put to good use! Bend over and pick up one of those fat marshmallows with your teeth.”

Raymond parted his lips as wide as they would go, and did as he was ordered.

“Good lad! Now get it nice and covered with spit. Take it in your mouth and let your tongue slide all over it. That’s right! Getting soggy now, isn’t it? Better be careful, we still want it to be in one piece, don’t we? It’s no use to us if it disintegrates before we push it inside his Highness’s butthole, is it?”

Effectively gagged by the massive mallow, Raymond could only utter a muffled “mmph” as his response. The dildo jabbed him in his arse, guiding him towards the bed, where the Prince remained, tied down, his red-hosed legs spread wide and pointing in the air. Raymond hobbled over, trying not to lose his balance, his tights rolled halfway down his thighs. He saw Felix’s eyes open wide as he approached.

“Crouch down, slaveboy,” cooed Alexander. “Get your face level with his Highness’s glorious bum. That’s it. Lower yourself slowly towards the floor. Ah! How convenient. I can wedge the handle of my wooden truncheon against the floorboard, and it will remain lodged within you, leaving me free to attend to the Prince.”

Felix looked with imploring eyes in the mirror at Alexander’s reflection. “No! You can’t! You mustn’t! It’s inconceivable – stuffing my arse with huge marshmallows! Anything! Please!”

“What an amusing moment for you to discover manners, Prince Felix. Too bad it will do you no good whatsoever…”

By now, Raymond’s face – marshmallow stuffed in his gob – was mere inches from the Prince’s sweating arse crack. Felix, horrified as he was, nevertheless could not tear himself away from the image, reflected over and over in the mirrored chamber.

“What are you waiting for, boy?” demanded Alexander. “The Prince’s rectum is empty and it expects to be filled by that sugary treat. Push it in – now!”

Raymond knew better than to disobey. He closed his eyes and guided the slicked up mallow towards Felix’s unwilling rosebud. He pursed his lips, and it felt for all the world as if he was kissing the Prince’s hole – only with the obstacle of the marshmallow between the two of them. He tried to angle his face for optimum effect and pushed the sweet against the unyielding crevice. All he seemed to achieve was squashing the marshmallow against his own cheek. The sweet was sticky and it stuck, disobligingly, to his own face.

“Oh dear,” sighed Alexander. “If you can’t even manage to get one marshmallow up the Prince’s chute, I shall be very cross with you, Raymond. And who knows how far my wooden dildo will go up your ass then…”

Raymond grunted with frustration and fear, and redoubled his efforts to try and manipulate the mallow and get it inside the desired target.

“Let’s see if we can loosen Prince Felix’s tight little sphincter for you…”

Alexander doused the handkerchief liberally with the lust potion and, with one hand gripping the back of the Prince’s sweating neck, he forced the fabric against Felix’s face. He left it there – longer than usual.

“A good strong dose will ensure you can open your hole more easily, my little arse slut,” he explained.

Felix’s senses swam as he was made to inhale the drug. And just as he thought his lungs might explode from lack of air, Alexander withdrew the handkerchief. The Prince began writhing in his bondage, acutely aware of all the sensations assailing him: his tights clinging to his sweating thighs, the ropes at his wrists and ankles, all of it so damned humiliating – and so damned erotic too! Then he felt Alexander’s strong hands placed on his naked buttocks – gripping them and pulling them apart.

“Don’t say I never do anything to help you, Raymond,” remarked Alexander. “There you go – the Prince’s pretty puckered opening is ready for you to make your deposit. Show him and me just how talented your tongue is. Make it nice and rigid, and push that pesky marshmallow inside. That’s it!”

“Nnnnnggghhh!” grunted Prince Felix as he felt the fluffy lump of mallow pressing against his asshole. Slowly, but surely, and totally against his will, he felt the muscle begin to give way and his hole began to open, finally allowing ingress to that stubborn, sticky sweet. His asslips tingled and he experienced the strange, undeniably erotic sensation of the invader moving inside his arse. His hole stretched to accommodate the marshmallow: wider, wider, and Felix threw his head back in a kind of ecstasy as the nerves in his anus thrilled to the unyielding pressure of Raymond’s tongue. And then – quick as a flash – the mallow slipped inside him and his arse muscles popped back into place.

“Ahhh!” cried the Prince, relief mingled with shame.

Raymond, panting from the exertion, withdrew his face from the royal arse, and as he did so, unintentionally impaled himself further on the wooden dildo. He too let out a startled cry.

“My, my,” chuckled Alexander, “What fortunate young men you are, to have your arses filled so delightfully!”

Quick as a flash, the Steward grabbed the handle of the truncheon and nudged Raymond to his feet. “Now the barrier has been broached once, it will make the second insertion much easier!” he declared.

Raymond tottered on his stockinged feet over to the sideboard, his face smudged with traces of sticky mallow.

“Now, I think it’s time for a profiterole!” said Alexander, steering Raymond with the rudder-like phallus over to the second bowl. “Come along, boy. You know what to do!” He leant over and whispered in the unfortunate youth’s ear: “Remember, I told you not so long ago in these very chambers, that you did not have what it took to dominate men successfully. Let this be a lesson to you, my lad.”

Raymond nodded sourly, and bent over to select a plump profiterole from the pyramid. Mouth open wide, and holding the pastry gingerly between his teeth, Raymond felt the dildo being withdrawn slowly from his greased up hole, so that its blunt end began to stretch him wider in anticipation of its expulsion.

“Now, get on with it, and stick that chocolately pudding up his Highness’s poop chute!” crowed Alexander, as he plunged the wooden truncheon back inside the youth.

Raymond’s body jolted with the shock of the dong pushing against the sensitive nub of his prostate, and he only just managed to hang on to the profiterole. He did not dare think what punishment Alexander might mete out upon him should he let the precious sweet fall to the floor.

         He repeated the motion as before, squatting down at the end of the bed, and grimacing as Alexander once again released his hold on the truncheon and secured it against the floorboards.

              “Better be quick about it, boy,” warned his master. “That chocolate coating will soon melt and get you all messy if you don’t hurry.”

            Raymond eyed up the smooth pink flesh of the Prince’s sacred opening, clamped shut once more. He pushed his chin forwards and, with no small effort, eventually managed to manoeuvre his face between those perfectly round buttocks.

         “No help from me this time, slave slut,” said Alexander. “You’ll have to get that profiterole up there all on your own. Although your task should be a little easier now the Prince’s pucker has been stretched somewhat. Now, what are you waiting for, boy? I don’t have all day!”

             Raymond planted his lips around the royal arsehole, and used his tongue to position the melting pastry ball against the wrinkled flesh.

          “Ha!” mocked Alexander. “Kissing the royal arse. Although I suppose you have a great deal of experience of doing just that, don’t you?”

             There was no way Raymond could reply, so instead he focused on his task. Once more making his tongue rigid, he began to push at the rapidly disintegrating profiterole. Alexander was right. This time the Prince’s hole did open more easily, and Raymond heard the Prince emit a sound somewhere between a grunt and a sigh as the pastry slid between his asslips and joined the giant mallow inside his anal cavity.

               Raymond stepped back and took a deep breath. How conflicted he felt! On the one hand, here he was, finally getting to play with the beautiful Prince Felix’s arsehole: indeed, as far as he was aware, the first person ever to do so. How many nights had he fantasised about having that god-like body tied down and entirely at his mercy to use and humiliate!                 And here he was, getting to stuff that royal butt with sweets and treats, as the intoxicated Prince writhed and groaned with each new insertion. And yet, how differently the scenario had played out in his imagination! In his version, he had been the one in control: not the plaything of that bastard Alexander Courcey, as much at his old master’s mercy as was the Prince.

He caught sight of himself in one of the many mirrors on the bedchamber walls and blushed. Alexander spotted his cheeks reddening.

“Hmmm, not exactly how you envisaged dominating the Prince’s arse, is it?” he laughed, as if reading the younger man’s mind. “Chocolate smeared over your face, your silver tights pulled down to your thighs, and my big wooden dildo rammed up your tender hole! What a gorgeous sight, you and his Highness make! Him writhing in an induced ecstasy, and you scuttling back and forth to fill his bum with sweetmeats!”

Alexander gripped the dildo with one hand, and reached around to squeeze Raymond’s cock with the other. “Only semi-erect, eh? Half turned on, are we? But half humiliated too? Not that I’m really concerned one way or the other. I’m far more interested in slave boys’ arseholes than their pricks.”

As if to emphasise the point, he began to push the wooden dildo slowly further into Raymond’s hole.

“Mmm, yes, boy, stick out your arse to better accommodate my big varnished pole. In we go, deeper, deeper, raping you with a piece of wood. How delightfully degrading for you. And now back out again, almost all the way out in fact. How your cherry hole must long to be free of that nasty dildo fucking you!”

Back and forth, back and forth went the wooden dong, and Raymond’s cock, seemingly of its own volition, began to harden even more.

Then, abruptly as he had begun, Alexander stopped the motion, leaving the truncheon lodged deep in Raymond’s ass: stuck fast so that he could remove his hand and it still remained, protruding obscenely from between the lad’s buttocks.

“Now, let’s pick up the pace, shall we? We have many more of these goodies with which to pack Prince Felix’s ass. And you, young Raymond, have a job to do!”

For the Prince himself, the experience was one long nightmare. Thanks to the mirrored walls, there was no avoiding the spectacle he had become. Even if he closed his eyes, the image was burned onto his retinas. There he lay on his back on the bed, his arms and legs tied and spread wide in the air, his scarlet tights yanked down carelessly and humiliatingly to reveal his erect cock and exposed arse. He doubted he would ever be able to expunge this nightmarish vision.

Once again, the handkerchief, damp with potion, was clasped to his protesting face, and he spluttered as, for a third time, he felt Raymond’s hot breath on his nude arse cheeks. He was only vaguely aware of Alexander issuing kinky instructions in a voice laden with amusement and mockery. He was his asshole and his hole was everything as the pressure of the humiliating invasion began again. His so-called loyal servant coerced to degrade him! It was all too much to bear! If only the sensation were not driving him wild with lust! Damn that potion to hell!

His sphincter, stretched twice already, began to give way once more. And the Prince let out a shuddering gasp as another fat marshmallow began to squeeze its unwelcome way inside him. The spongey sweet compressed itself on its way in, and then once the tip of Raymond’s tongue had done its evil duty and deposited the mallow inside Felix’s anus, the sticky, slimy candy expanded to fill the space within him.

The Prince’s hole closed once more around the newcomer, and Felix was becoming increasingly aware of the growing fullness in his rectum. Barely had he had time to contemplate this before he felt the now familiar sensation of his arse opening up yet again.

It was a violation of nature – his arse was supposed to be an exit – and yet in this topsy-turvy world, it had become a doorway for these traitorous invaders. He had little time to ponder the obscenity, as, inevitably, he felt another chocolate coated, cream packed pastry forced inside him. It was more difficult for Raymond this time: the four sweets were not small, and at first, Felix wondered whether this time his asslips would actually be able to close around the profiterole.

“Let me give you a hand,” came Alexander Courcey’s voice.

Felix couldn’t help looking up at the mirror on the ceiling to watch Alexander unceremoniously remove Raymond from his crouching position at his bum, and extend a long finger towards his vulnerable arse.

Felix shuddered, the blood pounding in his head, his cock pulsing in thin air, as Courcey pushed his finger into the royal arse, forcing the chocolatey pudding inside, and as a consequence, the queue of other invaders deeper still.

“Mmm, it’s getting full in there now, boy,” he mused, swirling his finger around inside the Prince’s cavity. “Oooh that’s nasty! The mallows are melting and becoming quite gooey with the heat of your stud body. And the thin pastry cases are disintegrating too! Oops! There goes one now, flooding your insides with that ice cold cream.”

He pulled his finger out and looked with disdain at the chocolate and cream that now covered the end of it. He moved round to the head of the bed, and without any further ado, stuck it inside the Prince’s mouth and wiped it on his tongue.

Felix gagged with the knowledge of where that finger had come from. And, senses numbed from the witch’s potion, he was too shocked to do what he would have loved to more than anything else – to bite down on that hated finger! But Alexander was too quick for him, and before any harm could come to him, he had snatched his finger away again.

“All that sugar, cream and gelatine inside you will be irritating your arse lining like Hell, my slutty Prince! You’ll soon find that you will want to crap it out. The urge will be mightily powerful, and all-consuming. You’ll beg me to let you use the latrine. And maybe I will… But maybe I won’t. And if I don’t, you’ll just have to work those ass muscles of yours and squeeze your hole tightly shut with all your might. Because the alternative would be devastatingly humiliating, wouldn’t it, your Highness? Losing control of your bowels and shitting out a gooey mixture of marshmallow, chocolate and cream. Like a sissy little baby. But I feel confident you can take some more first, don’t you? In fact, here comes another...”

It took even more effort for Raymond to get this fluffy mallow inside the Prince’s increasingly crowded arse, so Alexander decided to apply some additional pressure.

“Come on now, lad,” grunted the Steward. “You can do it.” And he began to fuck Raymond’s arse vigorously with the wooden dildo.

Raymond wanted to squeal in pain at the violent force of being raped by the truncheon. The varnished pole felt massive as it ploughed in and out of his behind. Redoubling his efforts, he successfully pushed the marshmallow into Felix’s protesting anus.

The Prince emitted a guttural cry, and Alexander reflected to himself, with some amusement, that he felt like the driver of a particularly kinky engine – applying motivation at one end via the big wooden pole, carrying through the lithe body of young Raymond, and causing agony and ecstasy to Prince Felix at the other end.

With a loud, squelchy “pop!” Alexander pulled the wooden dildo completely out of Raymond’s arsehole, and carelessly pushed the exhausted youth to one side. He grabbed three more profiteroles and three more mallows from the sideboard and came closer to inspect the Prince’s exposed and vulnerable hole.

“What a dirty little boy you are, Prince Felix,” he sniffed. “You have cream and chocolate smeared all over your beautiful little bottom!”

“Go fuck yourself, Courcey!” snapped the Prince as the haze of the potion faded once more.

“Now that’s not a very respectful way to speak to your Lord and Master now, is it?” replied Alexander. “You use that tone with me, and I may choose not to be so delicate with the way I handle you!”

True to his word, Alexander prised apart the lips of Felix’s poor suffering arsehole and crammed first one, then another and then a third marshmallow into that desperately full opening.

“Ahhhhhh!” shrieked the Prince as his body was invaded yet again. The urge to expel the contents of his rectum was now overpowering, but he was determined not to lose control and foul himself.

“I’m sure a big boy like you can take just a few more,” crowed Alexander. “These last profiteroles are eager to join their companions! Although maybe we need to rearrange things inside your butt to make room for them.”

Without warning, he had two fingers inside the Prince’s hot rectum, pushing and probing at the squidgy, melting mess. Felix gasped at the invasion, but Alexander was relentless, forcing the sugary mass up, up, up, higher into the Prince’s protesting chute. Felix felt a cramp in his stomach as he was hit by the desperate need to empty his bowels. But it was hopeless. Alexander’s fingers blocked the exit, leaving the disintegrating, sugary gunge to torment him further. Felix squirmed in his bondage, pulling at the ropes, but it was hopeless – there was no escape.

With his free hand, Alexander massaged his hard cock through the tight purple fabric of his hose. “You make a most arousing sight, my pretty young princeling, wriggling in your fine crimson tights with my two fingers up your royal asshole, compacting all that gunk together. How warm and sweet your arse feels to the touch, my slutty bitch boy. I feel such sorrow at having to remove my fingers from inside you, but alas I must. For we must finish the bowl of treats...”

“No! Please!” the Prince positively squealed in terror. “I’m full! Full to the brim! There’s no more room!”

“Ah, now that’s not true - as you well know. Don’t be such a pessimist,my lad! Your hole has already proved talented beyond my expectations. And when I withdraw my fingers, we will surely need to fill that space they occupied, won’t we? Mmm, there we go, out they come...”

Alexander grimaced with distaste at the creamy gunge on his finger tips and held them out for Raymond, who was loitering, hands cuffed, in the corner.

“Here, slave, lick my fingers clean,” he told him peremptorily, and, without waiting for a reply, stuck them in his mouth.

Raymond pulled a face but he did as he was told. He tasted the warm, sweet chocolatey cream, mingled with hot royal ass juices.

“Swallow it,” said Alexander casually, not even looking at the dark-haired youth, although he listened with satisfaction to the sound of his gagging and gulping.

“Now for these three final tasty morsels! Let’s see just how hungry that ass of yours is, your Highness! Let us try two at once!”

Alexander positioned two chocolate pastries against the smooth orifice, just as a spasm hit the Prince’s belly.

“Arrrggh!!” cried the Prince, as the puckered ring, beyond the limits of his control, began to quiver and open. Alexander saw a hint of slimy white marshmallow within struggling to escape from its warm prison. And a trickle of cream slipped out of the Prince’s ass and ran down onto the bed.

“No you don’t, you naughty little bitch!” cried Alexander. “You’ll keep your cargo inside you until I give you permission to expel it!”

And, with that, he rammed both profiteroles into the protesting circle, pushing the would-be escapee back inside the tunnel. The Prince cried out in shock, but Alexander was merciless. He had one final treat to deposit inside the young man, and he had no intention of being thwarted. So it was that the six giant marshmallows and four profiteroles inside the royal bum were joined by one final chocolate-coated pastry puff. Only, on this occasion, the Prince’s ass did indeed seem to be stuffed full, and, although Alexander pushed hard, the dark brown ball would only enter halfway, where it remained obstinately: the Prince’s asslips stretched wide around it – the profiterole neither in nor out!

“Ooh, the pressure must be building now, slut boy, hey? The desire to push that nasty larder of sweeties out of your straining gut. You can gnash your teeth all you like but you mustn’t waste a drop of energy or concentration – focus on keeping that arse of yours under control. You don’t want the ultimate humiliation of shitting yourself and letting all that gunge out of your hole now, do you? Now, breathe deep of the potion – and get ready!”

And with that, something seemed to give way and Alexander successfully forced the final recalcitrant profiterole between the Prince’s aching arse lips.

The hole closed slowly and reluctantly as the young man’s agonised scream echoed around the castle walls...

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…”