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Bentley stood quietly in the small alcove that was set aside for him in the throne room, behind him was a doorway covered by a tapestry through which he could access the kitchen to fetch the vittles or ales the king might call for, it was all supposed to be waiting for him a short distance beyond the tapestry and if it wasn't, King Leonis XII was liable to discharge the guilty servant in a fit of rage. Bentley was only eight years of age and a page, but he was determined to be the best page the King could wish for and the King rewarded exemplary service handsomely at Christmastime.
At the moment, the King was holding court, as countless petitioners came, each asking for this-or-that favor or dispensation or relief from their taxes or reduction of penalties for this felon or that, peppered with long petitions from verbose scholars of law or aldermen from this township or that village or farmers arguing over the grazing rights to this piece of land or that, and it was driving poor young King Leonis nearly to tears with the boredom of it all. The King was young on the throne, only being a mere twenty-seven years of age, and could scarce be blamed for becoming tired of the tedium of an afternoon of holding court. The kingdom had magistrates, but any dispute that could not be resolved by mutual agreement under their handling must be brought before the King.
The throne room in which King Leonis was seated was a grand one, the tapestries on the walls were all of fine purple and gold thread, with the scenes on them of many lush colors of the rainbow showing heroes and castles and dragons and battles, the portraits that hung between these tapestries were of King Leonis' many predecessor's for his lineage went back many generations, and it was a pity that he was the last of that line, but he was young and vigorous and could marry and have children who would extend the lineage anew. If not, the throng of noblemen who stood to either side of the throne that watched the proceedings were mostly related to the king by some ancestor or other, an heir could be traced back, though that would take four or five generations. None could claim an immediate right, which was good. The King's throne was of gold plate and had jewels on it, and the King's crown, orb and scepter were studded with priceless jewels. His coronation crown was so heavy with them that he could not wear it daily, and it stood on display in a nearby room, carefully guarded.
As for Bentley, he wore fine clothing for a servant as befit his station as the royal page, and he had a sort of perch that he could lean against and partially rest himself and still appear to be alert, and he waited knowing that he needed to be quick to answer and respond at any instant....
"Page! Page!" came the call from the King.
Bentley hastily came fully alert and rushed out to kneel before his sovereign majesty, a silver platter out to accept any missive or message he might wish to place there.
"Inform the staff that I have concluded the audiences for the day. I shall be in my private quarters if I am needed. Bring me a tankard of ale and have Charles arrange to be outside my quarters, you are to remain with me for any private errands I may require."
Bentley lowered his platter and made a small, shy smile, "As His Majesty wishes." He followed the King deferentially out the door behind the throne which led to the King's personal quarters.
Inside the King's personal quarters, Bentley helped the King undress in the small ways that it is more convenient for a person to have someone help them, the tights the King wore came down easier when other hands pulled them down for example. Then the clothing had to be taken to the soiled-clothing place so they could be washed. Done with that, Bentley returned to see what attire the King wished to be helped put on in its place.
"I desire a bath after that long tiring time on the throne," the King decided.
Bentley smiled gently. "Yes, Your Majesty." His hands went to his own clothing. He would be naked in the bath with the King so he could wash the King's body.
As he undressed, he regarded the King's own uncovered body. King Leonis had been a younger son of the prior King with no greater ambition than to be a military man, and it showed on his body. He had massive shoulders, powerful arms, a slim waist and powerful legs, these combined with the handsome noble features of his noble lineage (blond hair, blue eyes, straight nose, thin lips, sharp cheeks, cleft chin) were enough to make the ladies of the court titter when he deigned to smile their way. He smiled at Bentley when he noticed the attention. "Finish undressing and join me in the bath, and you may touch me where and as you wish," he said.
"Yes, Your Majesty," Bentley replied once more. The King's rule was to call him in the third person in public ("His Majesty"), the honorific in private ("Your Majesty") and by his own pre-royal name while in the bath and bedchamber ("Claven"). The last was a private privilege Bentley didn't dare tell anyone, it was a precious jewel of trust not to be abused.
The King's bath was a large inset miniature pool some eight feet square and filled with water some two feet deep at one end and four feet deep at the other.
The King stepped into the bath with the supreme confidence of a man in the prime of life, and he turned and helped Bentley in after himself. "Thank you, Claven," Bentley said.
"Ahhhhhh," the King sighed. "It is so good to hear my name again, I hear 'His Majesty' and 'Your Majesty' so much I begin to wonder if I am the man or the office."
"Judging from what I can see now, you are all man," Bently said teasingly. He was allowed this bit of license here.
The King laughed and said. "Well, let's get the business out of the way first, then we'll deal with the pleasure." He strode to the deeper part and submerged his entire body and re-emerged, totally wet. Bentley spent the time working up a soapy lather on a rag and he began to work the rag over the King's handsome, rugged body. Done, he rose while panting slightly from his exertions. He had washed everything but the King's penis and testicle area in his ministrations, by artifice.
"Have I missed anyplace?" Bentley asked the King, a twinkle in his eye.
The King cocked his head and considered it. "No, I think you have covered me from head to toe." He knew full well the point of omission, they played this little bath game often.
"I thought so, but I have the feeling I missed something. Some very, very small and insignificant thing," Bentley teased.
"Very small, indeed!" the King exclaimed, a bit stung by this joke. "Does this look small to you?" He gestured at his prong, which had elevated itself to a full erection of ten inches during their brief interchange.
"I concede it has gained some added size since I last looked at it. Perhaps the submersion in water had affected it," Bentley replied. "You can see that my own organ is still lying very much shriveled up like a dead flower."
"Is it, now?" The King leaned down to examine it closely, only a few inches from the boy's young prick. "Mayhaps a bit of encouragement can awaken it from its' slumber." Without a bit of hesitation, the King leaned forward and took the small bit of wrinkled flesh into his mouth, the entire cock and both balls of the young boy's genitalia.
Enveloped in that warm welcoming entrance of the face, Bentley gasped and moaned as the tongue laved and teased his prong until it stirred and began to fill the limited space and forced the royal mouth to release the Gorgon from its captivity to stand out proudly from its nest atop its pair of eggs and proclaim its new awakening from the dead.
"There now," the King said brightly. "I do believe that I have managed to revive your dead body part."
"You have now, but now you must help me tame it once again," Bentley replied. "If you can tame mine, I can tame yours."
"As your King, I say you will deal with mine first, and then we will see if yours is still awake then," the King said with a smile.
"You should have let it sleep in that case," Bently pretend-grumbled, but he knelt down in front of the royal body standing proudly with the washrag and he first applied the still soapy washrag he had used on the King's face and washed the royal rod and twin orbs as carefully as he had washed the King's nose and cheeks. Done with that, he let the rag fall into the water, sluiced the cock with water to rinse it clean of the soap, and with the King groaning from the effect of the extra-soft soapy cloth on his prick having stimulated him as a part of the soaping and rinse, Bentley caught the rod on his lower lip, lifted the prick upwards so he could slide it into his mouth, and slid his lips down the thick, uncut shaft, loving the dong as he did so, with his tongue dancing back and forth on the underside, laving and licking and greasing it with saliva as he did so.
Claven moaned and sighed. "Ahhhhh, my dear, beloved page Bentley, if I did not have you with me, I think I should go mad! I was not born to this, did not expect to have to ascend the throne, and now that the crown is on my head, it vexes me night and day! Oh, to be free from this accursed duty!"
Bentley had heard this any number of times from the King in his privacy, so he simply began to suck the King's cock as swiftly as he could, and the King moaned and permitted this for a while, but the water on his lower legs and the air on his wet and drying skin galled him and he finally said, "Enough, my eager young love, let us dry ourselves and repair to the bedroom for further activities."
The King brushed off Bentley's attempts to dry him, and urged him to dry himself instead, and so they were both dry and ready to go together to the bedroom which was next door to the bath. Once in the bed, the King got Bentley into a sixty-nine position and the two engaged in a joyful moment of oral stimulation. The King broke this moment by shifting his position, he was upside down on the bed and atop Bentley and he turned his body around with a single athletic movement that bounced Bentley up and down a bit but didn't move him and then he was embracing the boy in his arms, and Bentley could wrap his legs around the King's strong legs and pull his young hips up to help guide the man's thick dong toward his young buttocks. He had used his time with the King's cock well, the prick was thickly laden with his saliva and greased enough to allow his well-traveled anus to accept this familiar dong into its inner sanctum.
The King sighed as his cock sank into Bentley to the very base. "Ahhhh, my dear, gentle boy! I should go mad if I didn't have you with me in this time. Your kind heart and sweet body soothes my anxious spirit every time I enter you."
"And my heart sings with joy every time I have you inside of me," Bentley agreed. "Please, Sire, take from me what you need and in doing so, give me of yourself, for your joy is mine and all I have is yours."
"I hear those words a score of times a day and yet your lips are the only ones from whom I believe them," the King said and he kissed the lips to punctuate what he had said. When their lips parted from the slow kiss he gave Bentley, he began to slowly move his athletic body back and forth, and Bentley sighed and groaned softly in the first moans of passion.
As the King kept moving, though, his speed increased and his own grunts and groans became audible. He was still too young and strong and virile to be out of breath but the strains of desire have their own limits on a man, and he felt those limits being pushed, and he moaned out, "Uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh, uhhh!" in a soft, steady monotone as he kept his rhythmic motions.
Bentley was less restrained, he was gasping, "Ahhh, uhhh, ohhhh, ahhh, uhhh, ahhh, Claven, my love, my heart, ohhh, ahhh, yes, fuck me, ohhh, fuck me, Claven, ohhh, harder, please, harder!"
His innocent words spurred the man's pleasure and he began to gain in his energy in the manner of a beast that has attained the state of rut, he shifted his posture, one hand shifted to pull the boy's buttocks to an angle that lifted them on one side and he rose on his knees to thrust with more energy, moving as he did into a posture that was reminiscent of his days as a warrior when he had to make love thus in the fields, and his body armor on his knees forced him to hold his lover's body upwards in this way to make love.
In other ways, his mannerisms returned to him of his younger days in the army when he had taken his pleasures with the camp followers who had dallied with him often in the aftermath of battle when he and his comrades were flush with victory and their rods were stiff with the virility of knowing they had conquered their enemies, much as the beasts of the field jousted with their competitors for their mates, would chase away the younger, weaker males and then take the females right after when they were still in heat.
He was lost in his desires, and Bentley, long familiar with this aspect of his King, did not fight it, he joined in it, holding onto the man and accepting every lustful growling grunt and forceful thrust for what it was, the possession and the passion and the longing and the lust, to be in this much control of his life and his destiny. He let the sexual lust of the man be his own lust, he gasped and clung to the body atop his and his fingernails dug into the back of the man so hard that the flesh dimpled though not enough to bring the blood, his own body swayed to aid the depth of the lunges into his body.
The King was now only another man in truth, a soldier and a lusty, muscled man, who was enjoying the body of a willing boy, and he rammed the young buttocks of the lad with the unfettered strength of a man who must enjoy life to the fullest today for he may well be dead on the field of battle on the morrow!
Now the King was giving full vent to his joy. "Ah-huh! Ah-huh! Ah-huh! Ah-huh! Ah-huh!" he grunted as he thrust deliberately hard, discrete jabs into the boy's body to the hilt. He sped them up, "Huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh-huh!" he panted as he rocked Bentley's body back and forth on the soft silken sheets spun from the soft threads of the nectar-moths of Sillarow Valley, a thousand hectons south of his own kingdom, pricelessly rare. Yet had they been common cotton threads, he would have cared as little for them at this time. His large chest rose and fell like a huge blacksmith's bellows as he drove his body to the limit and the time he was forced to linger on the throne and in conferences began to tell on his rugged form.
Bentley sensed this lagging and he took a brief pause in the King's thrusting to give the man a shove and roll them both over on the bed, he was able to get on top of the man and he rose up to sit astride the man's hips, looking down at the sex-dazzled eyes and he smiled and said simply, "Now let me finish this, Claven."
Bentley moved up and down, bouncing with the energy that only a youth of his age could bring to bear, and he rode the rigid rod to the maximum speed he could attain. The King was already close to his summit of joy and this ride by the boy was all he needed to conclude his climax.
"AHHHH-HAHHH-HAHHH-HAHHH-HAHHHH, HAHHH, HAHHH, HAHH, HAHH, AH-AH-AH-AH-AH-AH, AH, HAH-HUHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" His jism squirted hot and heavy up into Bentley's warm bowels filling his intestines with the hot spooge and causing the lad to shudder with the feel of the hot flood.
Bentley gasped and his own young climax struck and he groaned out, "AHH-AHH-AHHH-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" and he enjoyed his own orgasm as the King's hearty testicles imparted their generous bounty into his body.
Done with his own seismic delight, Bentley laid down upon the heaving bosom of the King and he sighed as the powerful muscles lifted his slighter form up and down as His Majesty's body fought to refill its lungs with air.
There was a brief moment of silence, then the King sighed, and it was a mournful sigh. "I wish I could extend this moment for much longer but I do have a large number of documents in my private office I must read through before dinner tonight." He sighed again and said, "I only wish I could be back among the regiments where my only duties were to keep my armor clean and polished and my horse well-fed and stabled and after that was done, I could do as I pleased. The duties of a King are endless and tedious and all the grandeur of the castle and the food are scant repayment for those things."
Bentley smiled tolerantly, these were old complaints by the King to his ears alone, but the man must have someone to complain to and better him than some minister with possible malevolent motives. "The kingdom is blessed to have you on the throne, Your Majesty," he said, judging the title was needed just then. "Your reign has been a good one and your people are happy and praise your rule."
"They are happy, yes, but what of me? I pay dearly performing my duties as sovereign. The people say they are in the service of the King, but it is I who are in the service of them instead."
"That is true, and we are fortunate for that," Bentley agreed. "But as long as you serve the people, you may remain certain that I shall remain in service to the King."
The King smiled, and Bentley leaned down and they kissed slowly, extending that moment. It would have to end all too soon, when they must each resume their service once more.
THE END
Comments, Complaints or Suggestions?
Send E-mail to Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM.
NOW ON SALE!
USE THE "CLICK TO LOOK INSIDE"
FOR MORE FREE STUFF!
(The Story You Just Read is Available in The "Upside Down in the City" book)