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New!Gallery New!Stories
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Royalty Revoked i escaped through a century’s old hidden tunnel that had been built before the invasion, before the kingdom was scorched and my people were enslaved. It ran for twice five miles out beyond the castle gates in to the thick woods then down to a sunless inland sea surrounded by lush gardens and plentiful orchards. There i became just another wild boy, part of a pack that existed for our mutual protection and to satisfy the needs that direct a boy’s life so often. In all that time in the woods no one ever suspected that i was a Prince. In fact lineage or former wealth held no bearing on the rules of survival that dominated our relationships and formed the rules of government. Survival of the fittest prevailed as it does in most primitive societies. So it seemed quite natural when a stronger boy took ownership of another, and a ritual developed that put everyone on notice that a boy had been claimed. This involved a thorough beating with what was called a “taming stick”, a wooden rod capable of welting a boy’s rump like no other device, followed by a sexual submission in front of the entire pack. It was always a highly erotic evening that made our cocks throb and we often took hold of each other for a precious stroke while we watched the claimed boys bottom quake and color and heard his screams. i began having fantasies of being claimed and humbled in front of the pack, the same fantasies i’d enjoyed at the castle. There i often visited the basement dungeons to watch errant boys have their buttocks strapped. Some were simply taken over a soldier’s knee, other’s strapped to paddling benches or birching blocks. Those moments always quickened my pulse causing the blood inside me to surge uncontrollable so that I was driven back to my room and the privacy of my bed with my hand busy between my legs. The sounds that drifted up through the air ducts haunted me; the cries and squeals, the throaty groans that accompanied the sexy slap of wet flesh, the sighs of satisfaction. It evoked so many questions? What might it be like to be bent over like that? The swish of the taming stick through the air and the thwacking sound when it made contact with tender flesh inflamed my passions! And what might my Master demand of me? i’d seen boys with their mouths open wide desperately swallowing the semen of their conquerors, others on their bellies getting rudely fucked. And i saw their faces afterwards, calm satisfied looks that i envied and coveted. The fantasies tortured me day and night till i throbbed uncontrollably and felt a sensual puckering. During a claiming ritual one night in front of huge roaring fire i felt the brooding eyes of another boy raking over my body. He was a rare beauty named Trieste, lean but muscled with a long braid of wheat colored hair that hung down to his waist. He had a Master’s swagger, a cruel confidence, and the knowledge of his own powerful sexuality. Each day after that i felt him watching me with his flashing eyes and found my own eyes drifting to the spot between his legs and feeling my passions rising higher day by day. i saw him as my demon-lover, holy yet profane, parochial yet pagan. i knew my surrender would come quickly and easily! Then one day he took my hand and led me deep into the woods where he cut a branch from an odd gnarled tree then whittled it with a sharp dagger till no doubt existed as to its intended use and design. We walked back to the camp with the stick in his right hand while the left groped my rump and the word spread quickly from person to person, “There’s to be a claiming tonight, light the fires and open the wine.” There was a party atmosphere as he undressed me in front of the roaring fire, first my blouse and then my boots and leggings. Then when i was naked he spun me around for all to see. “I claim this boy as my property tonight,” he announced, let no other feed or fuck him without my permission!” Then with a dash of showmanship he announced, “Nine and twenty.” Trieste placed a worn leather collar around my throat like those worn by animals then pulled me to the ground over a tree stump. i looked back at his face full of satisfaction and power then felt his boot at the back of my neck. The first thwack of his taming stick was well placed over the widest fleshiest portion of my rump and elicited a shrill scream. It was a horrible pain, a raging fire that spread through my body. i hated it, and loved it so! i begged him to stop, yet arched to meet the stick. Over and over it fell with loud slaps and continued cries till nineteen had been delivered and Trieste dropped the weapon. i heard a voice from the crowd mumble, “Wise Master, the boy will live in fear with the thought of those owed ten strokes burning his belly.” Trieste fumbled with the crotch zipper of his leather britches, he was high with sexual arousal, sweating and tense. “Allow me Sire,” i said, and carefully opened the trousers up and released a magnificent cock, a King’s cock. "Open your mouth." The terse command was followed by fingers of steel tightening around my head and i could sense the crowd moving closer, my mouth was filled with throbbing, hard flesh. Breathing through my nose, i choked and gagged as his cock slipped down my throat. my arms wrapped around him till the palms of my hands found his silky smooth ass and i tugged slightly tasting his salty bitterness on my tongue; and i learned what true humiliation is. Now i was sucking greedily and he penetrated deeper and deeper till i felt a reflective shudder, he stiffened and a flood of warm salty honey trickled down my throat. Trieste picked my up in his arms and carried me to a celebration tent. On the way i heard a voice in the crowd: “See the look of satisfaction on the boys face, he’s at peace with who he is!”
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