Once upon a time, long, long ago, in a country far, far away from reality, there lived a King who had a handsome young son. He had grown up pampered and in luxury, never wanting for anything he desired. One day, as he was walking through the Castle grounds, he felt an uncomfortable swelling in his groin, something he had never felt before.
Rushing back to his wing in the Castle, he summoned the wise Medicine man to visit him, but the Doctor had been in employ since the childhood of the King, and the man was now a cripple, deaf and nearly totally blind, so a fat lot of use he was. So young Prince Eldred, for that was his name, was at a total loss as to what he should do, and the swelling in his groin was driving him mad.
"I shall have a cold bath," he thought, as that was what Nursey always prescribed when he bruised his leg or something. So he summoned his personal Butler to run his bath. Prince Eldred was seated, reading a picture journal, and was surprised when a young lad appeared after he had pulled the bell-pull. "Sorry Sire," said the young lad, bowing low and avoiding eye-contact, "But me Dad's got a bit of a cold. Is there anything I can do instead of him, Sire?"
Prince Eldred thought for a moment, then gave that up and just said, "I think I need a cold bath. Run me one." The lad, wanting to please the Prince, and just to be sure of the command said, "A COLD bath, Sire?" "Yes," said the Prince, "I think a cold bath may ease the swelling I have in my groin."
The lad, again wanting to please the Prince, and just to be helpful asked, "Swelling Sire? Have you injured yourself?" "No," answered the Prince, warming to the lad's forwardness, "I was walking in the Castle grounds, and realised my trousers were uncomfortable, so I returned back here, to find out what ailed me."
"Can I see, Sire?" said the lad, Peter, for that was what they called him. Prince Eldred stood and unbuttoned the front of his trousers, letting them fall to the ground. Peter drew near and asked, "May I touch the Royal Personage, Sire?" for he had heard stories as to how to converse with his betters, and Royalty.
Now it must be said at this moment that Peter was of low birth, and had been around a bit. He had heard all the stories told by the big boys at the back of the stable block, and so knew which way was up. However, none of those boys sported a 10 inch erection, which was what he was confronted with here. "Fucking hell," he said, then realised where he was and added "Sire. I ain't never seen one that big. Never in my whole life." He then remembered again where he was, and added another "Sire" and dropped to his knees.
"Do you know what the problem is, young lad?" asked the Prince, anxiously. "I do indeed Sire. You must have been bitten by a 'love bug' Sire, and your cock is now full of it's poison! Sire!" said Peter thinking quickly and remembering what his Dad had told him when he had walked in unannounced one evening and found his Mum and Dad in the Kitchen together.
"And what is the remedy, for my cock has never been thus, in my whole life!" said the Prince, now totally alarmed, looking about him, his erection waving from side to side freely. "It calls for drastic action," said Peter, rolling up the sleeves of his jerkin on both arms, "But I have seen it done before Sire, and I know what to do."
Taking command of the situation he bade the Prince to shed the rest of his garments and lay on his bed on his back. For his own part, Peter also stripped naked, and then he knelt either side of the Prince's legs and took hold of the Prince's 10 incher. Looking towards the Heavens and motioning a cross with one hand he then lowered his mouth onto the stalk and started to suck.
The Prince closed his eyes and tensed for a few seconds, then relaxed as he felt the young lad's mouth slide up and down the length of his swelling. 'What courage,' he thought, 'that a young servant lad would risk himself to make his future Monarch better.' He lay back and enjoyed the glow of pride that the moment, and the feeling the boy's hot mouth gave.
After a few moments Peter stopped and looked along the Prince's body to ask, "Are you feeling any benefit from my actions yet, Sire?" to which the Prince answered dreamily, "Your mouth is obviously the answer to my need."
Peter, remembering what he had witnessed as he watched his Mum and Dad in the Kitchen before he was discovered, said, "Nay, Prince, there is more to it than the use of my mouth." Upon which he moved up the Prince's body until he sat on the Prince's stomach. Reaching behind, Peter took hold of the Prince's stiffy, and guided it as he slid back, making the wet cock head (Royal Purple in colour) first wait at, then enter his ass hole, until it was entirely engulfed.
The Prince had never experienced such a thing in his life, the heat,the excitement, the sheer different - ness of it all. Laying back, he let Peter bounce up and down on his poison filled cock, feeling the sensations as the lad attempted to milk the poison out of him. Peter's cock had now grown in his hand as well, and he wanked himself as he pleasured himself up and down on the Royal prong.
(Behind the stables he had not only listened to the older boys' stories, but had regularly been fucked up the ass by them so they did not kick his head in, and he loved it. Being a lad of quick wit, he remembered what his Mum and Dad had said that night when they had caught him spying, and, knowing what utter tossers the Royal Family were, he realised that the Prince was as thick as a brick. When he saw that the Prince's cock was as thick as a brick as well, he realised he could capitalise on the situation, to his own advantage.)
The Prince could feel a change spreading over him and made comment to Peter. "That is alright Sire, it is the poison getting ready to leave you. I know what what I need to do," and with that he dismounted the massive cock and returned to kneeling and sucking it, his hand pumping up and down the Royal cock's length until, with a whimper from the Prince, Peter was rewarded by mouthfuls of Royal spunk, gushing from the Prince's piss slit in such quantity that it began dripping from the sides of his mouth, as he could not swallow it quick enough.
Finally the Prince's ordeal was over, and he made Peter swear to silence about the whole matter, so that others could not use the information of his being poisoned against him. Peter was rewarded quietly, to the surprise of his Dad, the Royal Butler, who thought his son to be nothing but a lay-about, always in the popular group of the older boys.
It was several days before Peter was summoned to the Prince's bedroom, as the Prince was feeling 'sick' again, but that is another story....
Ho! Ho! Ho!