Date: Sat, 24 Jul 2004 17:40:14 -0700 (PDT)
From: Gloryhole Professional <gloryholeprofessional@yahoo.com>
Subject: "Tarzan of the Toilets" Chapters 1-5

"Tarzan of the Toilets", Chapters 1-5
By: GHJ, Your Gloryhole Professional
gloryholeprofessional@yahoo.com


DISCLAIMER

Hardcore, homosexual Internet erotica such as "Tarzan of the Toilets"
should only be read by those of legal age and in a locale where reading of
such material is permissible.

It is intended for an audience of genitally aroused males liking of
promiscuous, condomless, and random sexual encounters with other males. The
story focuses on enthusiastic sexual service provided to any stranger, the
ejaculation of cocks and the ingestion of bucketloads of the general
public's mixed thick, warm nut goo. Therefore, it is advised that those
sensitive to any perceived dangers of one person's sexual copulation with
numerous unseen, strange men...over and over again until his belly is
sloshingly full of semen...should best avoid this story.

Or instead, more sanely, such a reader might want to come to understanding
that this is but words flickering back at him from his monitor screen.

Men are further forewarned that "Tarzan of the Toilets" is the story of the
sexual encounters between a very young person and many, (many), much (much)
older strangers. Again, it is a story based on certain real events but,
still, remains only a story. Any adult man who may choose in his actual
life, to act out any of the scenarios, which follow, would be
excruciatingly ill advised.

"Tarzan of the Toilets" is copyrighted to the author. No reposting or other
use without the author's written consent is permissible.



"Tarzan of the Toilets" By GHJ, Your Gloryhole Professional
gloryholeprofessional@yahoo.com



CHAPTER ONE

It was the late summer of 1921 when the Earl of Lanshire's eldest son, Lord
Alfred Flint, and his bride of only nine months, Lady Alice, left London
for Buenos Aires. Once there he was to spend the next two years overseeing
his family's many land holdings, including an extensive horse-breeding
ranch.

Despite being eight months in the family way, Alice, a spirited beauty,
insisted on taking the long sea voyage to South America. "If our child be
born early and at sea, we shall simply have to nickname him Alfred 'Seaman'
Flint", she would often jest those first few days out upon the Atlantic
while they dined at the Captain's table.

At night aboard ship, when feelings of queasiness would overcome her after
dinner, she would retreat to their cabin. Lying upon the bed, she would rub
her belly and whisper with a smile, "Now, now, my young Seaman...don't you
come until we dock".

And how ironic that the adventuresome young matron would have chosen such a
name for her soon to be newborn infant. For in his lifetime, that nickname
would suit the lad more than she ever could have imagined.

Eight days before reaching port, Lady Alice went into labor. The ship's
doctor, along with his nurse, saw the young woman through her first
birthing. The good health and strong disposition of Lady Alice made the
shipboard delivery of Alfred "Seaman" Flint, littlest Lord of Lanshire,
much easier than any may have feared. In her cabin, the Devonshire beauty
was sitting up with her baby boy within two days. And two days before
reaching the exotic southern continent of the Americas, she was seen
reclining on a deck chair with the child, accepting the warm
congratulations from the other first-class passengers.

It was a spectacularly beautiful day when the HMS Victoria arrived in
Buenos Aires. Having disembarked the ship, Lord Alfred and Lady Alice,
along with his personal valet, Nigel, and her two maids, waited amid their
sea of steamer trunks until they spotted their local chauffeur, a man named
Cesar, drive off the ship behind the wheel of the couple's 3-litre
Bentley. Another car, one from the ranch and towing a flatbed, also pulled
up, prepared to transport all the luggage, as well as, the servants.

As Cesar first greeted Lord Alfred, Lady Alice whispered that she was
feeling slightly faint. All the activity of dressing and departing the ship
finally caught up to her. She handed the infant, Little Alfred, to his
father, Lord Alfred, as she whispered for her maids to come along with her
to the Ladies Lounge, which was situated in the middle of the large and
luxurious first-class passenger section of the Port of Buenos Aires.

The men watched the three ladies, escorted by a porter, as they walked to
the far end of the passenger disembarking area and until they rounded a
corner. Lord Alfred stood by, holding his son, while Nigel instructed as to
where Cesar and the driver of the other car, should best strap down each
piece of luggage for the hour-long road trip to the family's villa and
ranch.

After just a few minutes of cradling his son while watching the vehicles
being loaded with their numerous belongings, including his wife's favorite
oriental carpet, Lord Alfred summoned Nigel to take the baby from him as he
was wanting to light himself a cigar.

Nigel was an exceptionally well-groomed man in his late forties. He'd been
with Lord Alfred for fifteen years, ever since his master was but a lad of
ten. In that time, Nigel was a faithful servant keeping Lord Alfred's
clothing neat, his scotch flowing and his secrets...secret.

As was the way of life for most young men of the aristocracy, their first
sexual encounter often came courtesy of their personal valet, no matter how
much older that valet may have been. And Lord Alfred was no exception.

At age thirteen, just as his thirty-six year old valet had set down a
silver tray carrying his breakfast, Lord Alfred awakened one summer morning
with a raging erection between his youthful, cricket-playing legs.

The handsome youth, trying to hide his near painful morning erection from
his servant, watched from beneath his covers as the man then opened the
damask curtains. Bathed in early morning light, the man could see that his
young master was wake. Yet uncharacteristically, the usually energetic and
athletic young boy did not leap out of bed.

"Good morning, sir", Nigel said in a warm, low voice.

"'Morning", the horny young teenager responded. He still could not budge
from his bed or from the position he held lying on his side, without
revealing his aroused condition.

"Are you not feeling well this morning, Lord Alfred?", Nigel asked, sensing
something was not quite right. The man approached the bed but fearing that
his valet might see the erect state of his man rod, young Alfred scooted
further down into his bed covers.

"Do you have a temperature, Lord Alfred?", Nigel asked with piqued concern.

"No, no", the athletic teen replied. "I'm fine, Nigel. Perfectly fine."

"Are you certain, sir?", the man asked. He was very drawn to his young
master having seen the young lad nude many times when he would draw his
bath or dress him. "May I check to be sure that you are not running a
temperature, sir? I am positive that your mother, Lady Margaret, would be
greatly displeased if you are ill on this, your father's birthday."

The man then reached for the boy's shoulder. Although he immediately could
feel no temperature, he still rolled the teenager onto his back. And as he
did, the valet could see handsome Lord Alfred's real problem. The athletic
lad's erection tented the bed covers up nearly eight inches.

Although most thrilled to behold it for the first time in its erect state,
the size of the teen's enormously tenting erection was no surprise to the
man. In fact, ever since first coming to work for the family, three years
earlier, Nigel had always noticed that the lad sported quite the impressive
package.

Since that first day as personal valet to then ten-year-old Lord Alfred, it
was many a morning that Nigel had to struggle with his temptation to openly
fondle his young master while dressing him. Indeed, it took great restraint
on the part of the valet not to grope the lad's impressively large, young
rod as he would button up the boy's trousers each day.

Since the teenager's erection was exceptionally obvious as sunlight,
flooding in from the large windows, highlighted the sizeable tent it
caused, the valet tried to contain himself as he'd been well-trained to do
so. "Excuse me, sir", Nigel said in a low, very professional tone as both
he and the boy stared at the tent in the bed covers and then watched it
throb numerous times.

Lord Alfred's rosy cheeks grew rosier as it was the very first time that
anyone had ever seen him in such a condition. "Oh, I am sorry, old chap",
he said with a small crack to his voice. "I didn't intend...I mean...what I
mean is...I...I...oh drat!"

Nigel tried to contain his smile as he watched his young master blush and
grow flustered by the delectable erection with which he was now
struggling. Yet the valet, too, was struggling with the boy's
erection. Struggling as to not grope his young master before the lad had
even had his morning tea and toast.

"It's quite natural, young sir", Nigel said in a fatherly tone. "Nothing a
healthy young man doesn't encounter on occasion."

"I know...", Lord Alfred said as he laid there on his back, unable to
control the way his erection had a life of its own.

"Or more accurately, sir", Nigel continued, "Might I say that it is nothing
a young man your age doesn't encounter most hours of the day?"

Lord Alfred blushed and muttered, "I am so frightfully embarrassed..."

"No need to be, young sir", the man replied. "All that one need do is to
relieve the condition when it happens upon you."

"You mean wank off?", Lord Alfred asked in a quiet voice. "I know I
shouldn't...but if you might keep a secret, Nigel...I do that...I know it's
morally corrosive but I have to..."

"Of course, you do, sir", Nigel said. "All boys your age must in order to
be healthy. And in return, I will entrust you with a secret also, young
sir. Even we men must release the tension when it becomes as overwhelming
as what you have beneath this duvet."

"You mean YOU wank off, too?", Lord Alfred said with some relief.

"Certainly I do", the valet confided. "As do most all boys and men capable
of needing such release. I will relate another secret to you, young sir",
the man continued. "Before coming to your family's employ, I was the valet
to the late Earl of Sizedon. Now that he's dead, I can freely share with
you that the Earl of Sizedon required daily release of exactly this
variety. Sometimes, he required release multiple times in a day. Often he
relieved his own manhood. Other times, if I may confide in you, young sir,
it was I who was able to aid in his reaching release."

"Aided him? How?", the teenager asked. His erection throbbed and
throbbed. He wanted to wank off yet could not deny that news of the sort
his valet was telling him made him even more aroused.

"Well", Nigel replied. "A man can help another man or boy to wank. He can
become, in essence, the hand of that man or boy."

"So you mean to say that you use to wank off the Earl of Sizedon?", Lord
Alfred asked as he sat up some in his bed, feeling more comfortable with
having his valet and elder of over twenty-some years, looking openly upon
where his erection tented the bed covers.

"Most certainly I did", Nigel said. "Daily, in fact, for over seven
years. And without his wife, Dame Sizedon, ever once knowing."

"How exciting", Lord Alfred muttered, almost afraid to show his enthusiasm
for such morally offense homosexual behavior. Certainly at Sunday sermon,
the Archbishop of Canterbury would never condone such behaviors among men!

"And that's not all", Nigel added. "Now that you are a young man with
certain needs, might I also I reveal to you yet another secret many men
keep?"

Lord Alfred nodded as he slid his right hand under the duvet to squeeze his
lengthy teenaged erection.

"You know of the King's Circle Club, I am sure" the valet said.

"Yes, that's the gentleman's club to which my father belongs. Of course I
do", Lord Alfred said, as he grew more excited by what he might hear.

"You mustn't ever tell anyone", Nigel said with a whisper as he looked back
at the bedroom's locked door. "And most especially not your father as he
would certainly not appreciate such a secret from that club being told to
anyone..."

"Yes...yes? Do go on", the handsome youth said as he more openly stroked
his cock beneath the covers.

"Inside the club, not in the library or smoking lounges but in the
basement, they have built one of those Turkish baths", the man said. "They
are quite exotic and currently quite the fashion. A tiled room fills with
steam where many men in one another's company and stripped as naked as the
day they were born, sweat away their pounds and the previous evening's
drink. I have a good friend who provides massages to these men...and in the
process often provides them a great deal more."

The teen knitted his brow not quite sure what his faithful valet was
relaying.

Seeing that he was talking to a sexually na^Ėve youth despite his power and
wealth, Nigel tried to delicately explain to the boy, "The men are first
massaged whilst on their stomach...but my friend ends their massages whilst
they are on their back. Just as you are now."

"And so? He massages their stomachs? So what of it?", Lord Alfred
asked. But then he thought some more and added, "Oh! You mean he wanks
them? He wanks ALL of them?"

Nigel nodded and said, "And oftentimes he does even more to help their
release."

The boy gave him a look that showed he was more confused than before. So
Nigel simply said, "My friend will wank them but instead of employing only
his hand, he will utilize his mouth on them as well."

The teenaged Lord Alfred had never heard of such a thing. "His mouth? To
wank them? What does that even mean, my good man?"

"A man can be pleasured and have his manhood released by other methods than
the hand", Nigel explained. "No man can resist the pleasures of a warm,
sucking mouth."

"You mean your friend sucks on their sexual organ?", Lord Alfred asked as
he was at once repulsed and yet thrilled.

"That is indeed what I am saying, young sir", Nigel said. "Most men prefer
such release, in fact. And they reach release only when each spits his
manjuice into my friend's mouth."

"Receiving such service from another male though?", Lord Alfred asked, in a
way that was almost seeking permission to find the idea of the vulgar act
permissible.

"Of course" Nigel replied. "Another male often does it best. Of course,
it's all very secret. And in that, too, a man is often best -- at keeping
the secrets of other boys and men."

"So he never tells?" the teenaged Lord of Lanshire inquired hopefully.

"Never!", Nigel assured the youth. "And the secret of many, many men never
slips from his lips..." The valet then jested, "Nor do their man erections
as he sucks them!"

There was stillness in the room as Lord Alfred sheepishly looked at his
valet and his valet looked at his thirteen-year-old master. The boy's eyes
then directed attention to where his duvet cover was propped up by his
sizeable erection.

Without any further prompting, having been trained to silently detect his
master's every need, the man reached out and gripped his large hand around
the silk fabric and the young man's erection.

"Let us remove this, shall we?", the man said softly, as he pulled down the
bed covers to reveal the handsome young man's naked lower half. While still
asleep, the boy must have pulled his nightshirt up above his taut belly and
navel as he unconsciously fiddled with himself beneath the covers. So when
those covers were removed, his valet got a full view of the enormous
erection, which throbbed, between the boy's smooth, lithe thighs and which
had been the cause of such an obscenely large tent.

"My, good gracious, look at what we have here", Nigel said with a big
grin. "I must say that you make me immensely proud to be your personal
valet, young sir."

Lord Alfred was nervous but beamed at the compliment. "Do you think it's
okay?", he asked. "I mean does it look all right?" The boy had seen few
erect penises and therefore had no real sense of the blessing he sported
between his tender thighs.

Nigel tried to hide the bulge of his eyeballs as they beheld the sight of
the teenager's large and very thick endowment. "If I might say, young sir",
the man choked out. "You have one of the very finest manroots I have ever
had the privilege of seeing."

"You think?", the boy replied with a measure of new confidence. "Really?
You're just not saying that?"

"My young Lord Alfred", Nigel said as he ran his fingers through light
wisps of public hair and then gripped the length of the boy's precum oozing
erection, "I can quite honestly tell you that you, my young man, have one
of, if not the, finest manroots I have ever seen and felt in my thirty-six
years on this earth."

They remained like that a minute or more with the valet stroking the full
length of his teenaged master's erection as the young man laid back and
enjoyed, for the very first time, the touch of another person on his most
intimate and aroused parts.

"Might I, young sir?" Nigel asked as he indicated the teen's cock. "I can
show you the sort of oral relief my friend provides men in the Turkish
baths at your father's club. But only if you'd like."  The man knew the boy
would consent for no thirteen-year-old struggling with an erection such as
that had ever before been known to refuse his lips.

The boy nodded his head in silent consent wanting to know what it would
feel like and needing the ultimate release. "And you'll do it until I spit
my manjuice into you?", the lad added sheepishly.

"Most definitely, young sir. As much as these can muster", Nigel replied as
he gently fondled the teen's ample scrotum while trying to disguise his
glee at this chance to swallow such young semen.

But then Lord Alfred suddenly added with great concern, "And it'll be our
secret? No one will ever know?"

"Most definitely, young sir", Nigel said knowing full well that he would be
the last person to ever tell a sole at the manor estate that he was sucking
the big penis of the teenaged heir. "It's the secret all we men share and
keep. Rest assured of that and enjoy."

The man then leaned closer, opened his mouth and engulfed the hot teenaged
cock into his mouth. He could taste the young man's copiously oozing
precum. It was like ambrosia and he lifted his mouth off the penis so he
could tell his young master. "The clear juice you make is the sweetest,
most delicious syrup any virile young boy such as yourself could possibly
make."

Not quite knowing why, Lord Alfred blushed as he propped himself on his
elbows to more openly watch his valet service his big cock.

The man leaned into the boy's crotch again and licked and lapped at the
youth's big, hairless scrotum. His tongue then found it's way up along the
lengthy, thick shaft of the lad until the man was again nursing on the
oozing corona for more sweet drink.

So it was from that morning onward that Nigel provided Lord Alfred with any
and every personal service that a young man might require. Yet, perhaps
most valuable to young Lord Alfred was his valet's willingness in providing
his large manhood with regular relief and at any time he wanted it.



CHAPTER TWO


It was only weeks after that first sexual encounter, that Nigel began to
introduce the noble lad to the secret lairs where other men of the same
persuasion lurked in order to provide strapping young boys and men with
similarly depraved pleasures. Places where, in fact, on his one day off
each week, Nigel himself would join these men for entire carnal afternoons
servicing any male who found his way into their clutches.

It was on his master's birthday, after a flurry of festivities held at the
manor house, that Nigel decided to take young Lord Alfred to the seediest
end of London and to one of his favorite haunts. He knew what sort of
birthday present his young master, and any growing, well-endowed lad, for
that matter, would most enjoy.

As dusk fast approached on Lord Alfred's fourteenth birthday, they found
themselves at the entry of a darkened alley, down which Nigel directed his
young master to go. The valet stood guard on the sidewalk, beneath a
gaslamp, as he watched the handsome teen disappear into the depths of the
dark, foggy dankness. It was there that the boy would receive his present
from Nigel.

Although young Lord Alfred was momentarily distracted in the dark when he
heard a cat screech and then run away, he soon felt first one and then
another and other and another set of large hands on his athletic teenaged
physique. In no time at all, these unseen hands had pulled off his tie,
shirt, and his starched collar while still more hands simultaneously had
his trousers and undergarment unbuttoned and pulled down to the youth's
ankles.

It was then that the large, rough hands were replaced by wet tongues and
mouths taking turns sucking on the teen's huge erection; licking his
smooth, muscled abdomen and pectorals. Lips ran across each of the
well-built lad's big biceps as more mouths suckled on his low hanging,
hairless scrotum. The boy then felt hands part his smooth, small muscled
buttocks as tongues took their turns digging into his puckered and most
hidden orifice.

For more than thirty-minutes, the boy was fully serviced by numerous,
unseen men. At the end, drained of semen and left to slump to the cobbled
ground of the dark alley like a used sack of potatoes, which only the Irish
yet ate, Nigel at last came down the alley to collect the handsome lad. He
helped the spent youth to redress, as the boy smiled and asked who they all
were. Nigel replied as he buttoned up his master's trousers, feeling the
boy's thick man rod liberally as he did so, "Some were friends of mine but
most we'll never know. Does it matter?" Lord Alfred shook his head and his
valet could tell it was just the sort of birthday gift any male, and maybe
especially, any well-endowed fourteen-year-old, couldn't help but
appreciate.

And so it continued like that for years and all through Lord Alfred's term
at Cambridge.

Even on the morning of his wedding to Alice, as nerves ran high, Lord
Alfred turned to his faithful valet for reliable, last minute relief in the
men's toilet at Westminster Cathedral. Quickly unbuttoning the young
groom's trousers whist they awaited the bride's carriage, and, with ten
groomsmen on just the other side of the door, the valet quietly deep
throated his handsome master for a final time as a single man. As Nigel
rose to his feet, swallowing the aristocratic groom's semen, he even
whispered, "Thank you for this last taste of your bachelorhood, Lord
Alfred. The next batch of this savory batter you make will belong between
the legs of your beauty of a bride this very evening. And may that batch of
batter give you an heir."

Of course, the very next load of semen Lord Alfred ejaculated did not
conceive his heir in the womb of Alice. And yet that blessed shot was fired
not long after, while they were away on their month-long Grand Tour
honeymoon.

As they toured the Continent, with both Nigel and one of Lady Alice's maids
in tow, Lord Alfred did indeed impregnate his lovely bride while, at the
same time, he also, secretly fed his first load -- as a married man -- to
his valet. And both momentous occasions occurred while on the same train.

Upon departing Paris, Lord Alfred was certain he had impregnated Alice that
first evening on the train. She even cooed as she felt his warm semen flood
inside her that time, "I am certain this one will be your son. I just know
it!"

And, along the same route, the following afternoon, still hours outside of
Venice and as his bride retreated to their private honeymoon train car for
a rest, Lord Alfred suddenly was overcome with the need for some special
relief.

Although even he thought it strange for a man to desire such service,
having been blessed with a young, beautiful bride most willing to spread
her legs for hours at a time to accommodate him, Lord Alfred still found
himself rapping quietly upon his valet's compartment door. As his bride
napped in the very next car, Lord Alfred stood before his valet who, while
sitting on the edge of his seat, deftly unbuttoned his master's tented
trousers, reached a hand within the fly and hauled out the magnificent cock
which sought secretive oral pleasuring from another man.

The same sexual routine - Lord Alfred's going from his wife at night and
then to his valet during the day - continued throughout the honeymoon and
even moreso upon their return to London.

In the weeks prior to the decision being made that Lord Alfred would do his
expected duty by overseeing the family's Argentine holdings for a period of
two years, he and Lady Alice announced to only a small circle within the
family that she was with child. Upon the announcement, all sexual contact
ended between the handsome young couple, as was simply the Edwardian way.

And although from the age of thirteen until that very moment at age
twenty-five, he had always appreciated the physical pleasures of the secret
he shared with his valet, it was only then, as a young, expectant father,
that Lord Alfred realized the full necessity of why so many men, just such
as himself and those men at his father's club, relied upon the relief
provided by such men as Nigel. As Lord Alfred was denied entry to his
wife's bedroom night after night by her personal maids, while her belly
swelled, he realized with great clarity the reason so many men of his
standing shared and kept the same secret.

Even while aboard the HMS Victoria, Lord Alfred could have barely endured
the lengthy duration of the crossing to South America, his wife so far
along with child, had he not had his faithful valet to turn to in those
moments of a man's greatest and most pressing need.

And so, now in the Port of Buenos Aires, as the ladies had retreated to the
Ladies Lounge, he handed his infant son, Alfred "Seaman", to Nigel. He then
pulled from his tweed suit jacket a cigar and lit it.


CHAPTER THREE


As the cars were being loaded, Nigel spotted a large sign in the distance
and gestured for Lord Alfred to take a look. The sign was on the opposite
end of where they stood and read, "Caballeros/Gentleman's Lounge". Nigel
was pointing out the men's public toilets to his employer who, in turn,
knew exactly what his valet was suggesting.

Nigel had introduced Lord Alfred, when he was but a lad of fourteen, to the
particular sort of release a virile, young man can find in such places. He
had indeed taken the teenaged blueblood to Victoria Station one morning
after having orally serviced the young lad himself.

That morning, eleven years earlier, the fourteen-year-old Lord Alfred laid
in his bed, as had become the custom, while he allowed his valet to fellate
him, using the deepest parts of the man's throat to release his inner
manjuices. But even after the youth was done and had taken his morning
bath, he returned to the bedroom with yet another impressive and demanding
erection. "Do me some more, Nigel", the boy insisted. "I think I need
another go around. Or take me to that wondrously filthy alley of nasty men
- the one to which you brought me on my birthday? Won't you, please?"

The valet would have been more than elated to service his young master
again and again but he had another idea as he stood there watching the
handsome lad's huge erection bounce around as it hoped to feel the sucking
of a man's mouth once again before his riding lessons.

"If you might give me pardon, sir, I have another idea", Nigel said with a
wicked smile. "But it will require an intentional lie from both you and
me."

"Yes, do go on", the horny young teenager said as he slowly stroked his
thick eight-inch manroot.

"I can tell your father and the stablemaster that you have injured your leg
thus getting you out of your morning lesson", Nigel said. "But instead, I
shall then take you into the city with me. I know of just the spot where we
can get that easily tended to." The valet looked at the boy's big penis and
smiled. "In fact, I can guarantee you, young sir, that we will easily find
someone there to help you with your big problem."

And so Nigel left the boy's room and returned to where the family was
enjoying its breakfast. He begged their indulgence as he announced that
young Lord Alfred had awakened with what appeared to be a mildly sprained
ankle. The Earl of Lanshire grumbled a wee bit but insisted that the boy
must not, under any circumstances, go riding that morning. He had his
butler tell a footman to run out to the stables before his son's mount
could be saddled.

The Earl and Lady Margaret then told Nigel that since they need not wait
until after the boy's lessons, they would depart earlier than expected to
visit Lady Margaret's elderly aunt at Hepton House. They said the boy
should remain home and tend to his ankle. As the valet left, Lord Alfred's
parents continued with their breakfast.

The valet returned to his master's bedroom and locked the door. "Everything
is settled, Lord Alfred", the man said as he approached the masturbating
boy where he stood at the foot of his bed. The valet gripped the teenager's
erection and whispered, "As if by divine providence, your parents will be
departing earlier than expected in order to call on your great-aunt, Lady
Georgina. That leaves you to me, if you do not mind me saying that, sir."

The valet then went to a large armoire and pulled out a crisp white shirt,
tall starched collar and woolen trousers. Barely the apparel of a highborn,
the valet purposefully selected the sort of clothing that any young man of
fourteen might wear when running simple errands. "We will dress you in
these", he said to the naked lad. "It is best not to drawn undue attention
to yourself where I am going to take you."

The thirty-six year old man than delighted in lewdly dressing the aroused
teenager. He slipped white button boxer shorts onto the boy, groping and
feeling every inch of the handsome youth as he did so. Then he helped the
boy into a white shirt, making certain he got good feels of the boy's
handsomely developing biceps as he did so. He licked the boy's long neck as
he placed the starched collar around it and whispered into his ear, "There
are grown men who will be elated in just over an hour's time when I bring
you to them."

Lord Alfred had no idea as to where his valet would be taking him but
trusted it would be a place that would pleasure and service the demands of
a healthy, growing young lad.

The valet then had his young master step into the wool tweed trousers. The
man groped the boy's muscled buttocks and then knelt before him in order to
button up the trouser fly. All young men of privilege were accustomed to
this service, although now Nigel was permitted to dress his master in the
most depraved manner. The man's fingers felt the thick hardness of Lord
Alfred's demanding organ as he attempted to dress the boy's erection to the
left. The valet demonstrated enormous restraint in not servicing the young
man again. But he knew that a ride into London would provide his master,
and strange men as well, a far lewder pleasure.

Once dressed, the two stood at Lord Alfred's windows and watched as his
parents got into their new motorcar, of which Lady Margaret was still
suspect. They waved and then waited until his parents drove away.

"Now we may be on our way!", the horny teenager announced as he squeezed
his penis through the woolen fabric.

His valet stepped up to the overly randy youth to help him on with a
matching woolen tweed jacket. The man buttoned the front of it as was
proper but also added, "Perhaps this will hide your tremendous enthusiasm,
Lord Alfred." The valet looked at where the teen's erection tented his
slacks. "I doubt we want to advertise your exceptional asset to the entire
household and all of London."

The jacket did camouflage the boy's large erection. Only the most well
trained of hawks would have noticed the several inches of manroot yet
snaking along the boy's thigh, down past the length of the jacket. He put a
hat on the boy and then his own before both went downstairs to await a
carriage at the manor's main entryway.

Nigel, on just such outings, would request, on behalf of his young master,
that one of the more inexperienced stableboys drive them into the city in
the simplest of unassuming carriages. One particular such stableboy,
Stephen, was a lad whom Nigel trusted implicitly for such clandestine
duties. He knew the boy could be trusted ever since they had first met
during his tenure as valet to the Earl of Sizedon.

Although now barely seventeen, Stephen was but six-years-old and the son of
the cook at Saxongate Palace, the family home of the Earl, when Nigel first
had occasion to know him.

The cook, a big woman, had come to work for the Earl after her husband had
died. She had placed her five older children into an orphanage but for some
reason had kept little Stephen with her.


CHAPTER FOUR


Nigel first encountered the lad upon running an errand for the lord of the
manor. The Earl awoke and wanted to be certain that quail would be on his
plate for dinner. It was but six in the morning and the cook had not yet
heard word on the fowl selected for that evening's meal. So the valet
dashed on foot to the gameskeeper's cottage located deep in the wooded
lands of the Palace's grounds. He knocked on the stone cottage's wooden
door but no one answered.

Upon rounding the building, looking for anyone who might be about, he saw
the gameskeeper, Chester, a man in his fifties, dash behind a hill. The man
was seemingly buttoning up his trousers as he fled. Then the valet spotted
Chester's thirty-year-old son, Luke, race off in the opposite
direction. Nigel thought it odd that the younger man was shirtless on such
a chilly autumnal morning.

But things became clearer once Nigel went fully around the cottage. In
back, there he saw Stephen, the cook's six-year-old son. The little boy,
seemingly unaware of Nigel's presence, stood on the leafy ground yet was
bent facing forward the other way onto a wooden plank table; his little
knickers and underthings completely pulled down to his tattered leather
shoes. His small buttocks were smooth and its tiny cheeks spread obscenely
wide.

Nigel could not help himself as it became abundantly clear what the
gameskeeper and his son had been doing with the newest and littlest member
of Saxongate Palace. The valet spontaneously felt his manroot thicken and
strain at the fabric of his trousers as he beheld the licentious outdoor
tableau. He slowly approached the table where the lad remained in
position. Stephen barely looked over his shoulder before whispering, "Do
you want to do me too, sir? You can if you want". And he again put his
little head down on the wooden table normally used for plucking chickens.

Nigel stood directly behind the boy and with great adrenaline coursing
through his body, reached out and inserted his right index finger into the
boy's small, pink lovehole. It was quite warm and squooshy inside and as
the man retracted his finger, he could see it was coated with thick
manjuices. Realizing the other men had already buggered the little lad was
all the invitation Nigel required as he looked about before unbuttoning his
own trousers.

He pulled his erection from his fly and aimed it at the same little hole
the gameskeeper and his son had so abruptly been interrupted from
using. Yet with at least one of the men's loads of batter in the boy,
apparently someone fully enjoyed himself before running off.

Nigel slowly pressed the wide head of his manroot into the tight, puckered
lovehole of the prone lad. He was surprised by how easily it went into the
boy as he watched inches of his veiny erection disappear up into the little
laddie.

Stephen moaned a bit but surprised the valet when he pushed his little
buttocks back onto the man, seemingly buggering his own little self on the
man's large erection.

As Nigel screwed away, he first heard, and then saw, Luke return to the
site. Apparently, from where he had hidden behind a tree, the man had
witnessed the valet's actions and decided it safe to join in. Nigel slowly
penetrated the boy, enjoying the decadent early morning tryst as he watched
Luke then flag his father over to the table again. The muscular, robust
Chester, groping himself, was more hesitant to return but again Luke waved
him over.

Nigel sodomized the cook's son as he watched the gameskeeper creep back to
the table. The older man, smelling of the outdoors and the smokehouse,
whispered in a deep voice, "You aren't gunna say nothing, are you?"

Nigel simply shook his head as he pulled his erection out of the boy's
butt, offering the open hole to the man. That was all the answer Chester
needed. He quickly unbuttoned his trousers again and stepped behind the
child.

The valet stood tableside and watched the gamekeeper insert his quite meaty
penis into the small boy. Again, though, the boy barely winced as his small
frame accommodated the man's aroused girth.

Chester pulled out as he saw his own son wanting some more. He stepped back
and allowed Luke to take his place inside the boy's hole. Nigel watched as
he stroked his erection and then went to the other side of the table where
he squatted to ask the lad something face to face.

"You enjoying all this attention, I bet", Nigel whispered with a smile.

Sweaty and red-faced, as Luke slammed his big erection into him again and
again, Stephen replied in a small, winded voice, "Yes, sir."

Nigel smiled again as he stood and pushed his erection into the boy's
face. Stephen knew exactly what to do as he parted his lips and sucked the
man's penis into his mouth.

"Blast it in the boy!", Chester urged Nigel. "This wee buggery boy likes
it."

As he again traded places with his father, Luke then went around the table
and joined Nigel at the lad's mouth. Both men took turns swapping their big
meat between the lad's sucking lips.

"Come on, blast it in 'im! Give the little trollop what he wants!", Chester
grunted once again as he clearly released his own self into the boy's
tightly squeezing love hole.

Seeing his father deliver another load of milky manstuff into young Stephen
then set off Luke. Nigel stood, stroking his own erection as he watched the
gameskeeper's bare-chested son take his pleasure and his time adding semen
to the opposite end of the same small body. The thirty-year-old hunter
bellowed deeply as he pumped manjuice deep down the lad's throat.

"That's the way. Give the wee trollop all you got", Chester said to Luke as
he watched his bare-chested son ejaculating. Chester then turned his
attention to Nigel, "Come on, you got to do it, too! Give the little
ragamuffin another good dousing of the manmilk."

Nigel stepped in front of Stephen and pushed his big erection deeply into
the boy's well-trained and most accommodating throat. In moments he was
pumping the manjuice of a third man into the lad.

"Yes, yes!" Chester urged as he watched closely. "That's the way. Blast it
in 'im...go on, blast it all in 'im!"

Nigel spasmed ejaculate down the small throat of the cook's son. He then
slowly withdrew his thick manroot and the three men watched as the boy
licked his lips. Stephen then asked in a small voice, "Should I go back to
the house now? If you gentlemen are done, that is."

Chester gently slapped the boy's small, smooth buttocks as he said, "Yes,
my boy. We're done with you this morn'. You can pull up your knickers and
get out of here. My son'll call for you again when we want you."

Stephen, looking quite disheveled, stood up and slowly pulled up his
knee-length pants.

"Here you go", Luke said as he handed the little boy a slice of smoked
meat. "For a job well done."

Stephen thanked the handsome hunter and proceeded to ravenously eat the
small piece of meat.

"He don't get much like that to eat up there", Luke said to Nigel as he
pointed to the Palace.

"Seems a fair trade", Nigel replied as he rebuttoned his own slacks.

"He gets all the meat a growing boy requires down here though. Don't you,
our little buggery boy?", Chester said with robust glee as he patted
Stephen's shoulder. The boy smiled as he ate another bit of smoked meat.

"Come on, son, time we get to our work", the man then said to Luke. "Put
your shirt on and let's see what's out there."  The older man reached for
his hunting rifle as he watched his son put on a heavy suede shirt.

"You're Earl Sizedon's valet, aren't you?", Luke asked Nigel as he buttoned
up and tucked in the shirt. "Did he send you down here for something?"

Nigel told the men that the Earl had had a dream and awoke ravenously
hungry for quail. He said that the man would be expecting it on his table
that evening. "The cook didn't have word as yet as to what the fowl might
be so I thought I might forewarn you if you don't deliver some quail."

Stephen stood listening as he heard mention of his mother.

"We can do that", Chester replied as he lit himself a pipe of tobacco. "I
saw some beneath a bush just before this little one appeared for his
morning pounding."

"Yeah", Luke added with confidence. "I seen some, too, on the far
ridge. How many might his lordship be needing?"

Nigel thought and said, "I trust it will be just the family this
evening. Provide eight and that should be plenty."

"Your mother will be busy this afternoon", the well-built Luke said to
Stephen. He winked at the boy since he'd come to grow fond of him like a
father in the short month the boy had been a part of the household. "You
going to help her out with the cooking?"

Stephen shook his head and said that his mum and the scullery maids didn't
much want him under foot in the kitchens.

"Gives the child more time to get himself buggered down here, good thing!",
Chester brashly stated in a big voice. He then added, "Let's get a move on
them quail before they scamper off, son."

"Be here tomorrow morn',", Luke said to Stephen. "Same like today."

Stephen nodded and then ran off back up toward the Palace.

As the men watched the boy disappear over a ridge, Nigel asked, "He comes
here that often?"

Luke nodded, "The wee tyke's been here every morning since the second day
he arrived here with 'is mum. He don't have no dad and he likes being with
we men. He don't much mind what we do with him."

"Apparently", Nigel said with a smile.

"He's a good little bugger's hole, ain't he?", Chester said. "This is the
first time we shared him with any one else though. And the Earl's valet no
less! Anytime you want another go at the lad, you know where you'll find
'im."

The two gamesmen then went off over a wooded hill leaving Nigel to go the
opposite direction back to the Palace. As he walked, he could see Stephen
dawdling not too far ahead. The boy had nothing but time on his
hands. Being the six-year-old son of a cook, he didn't have any official
duties. Mostly he was there to run little errands on his mother's
behalf. In a few more years, he would apprentice in the stables if he were
so lucky. But until such time, the boy was left to own devices.

Climbing up one of the rolling hills, Nigel trailed the tyke by a few
yards, looking at the boy's small backside. He got another erection in his
trousers just knowing how he and the other men had had their fun with
it. He shook his head wondering how the cook's little son managed to
service all three of them so well and all at once.

"Psst, laddie! Boy!", Nigel called out in a pleasant way.

The boy turned and smiled as he stopped to allow the man to catch
up. "Yes?", the boy asked softly. His glance then dropped to the valet's
crotch and the boy added shyly, "I liked yours."

"Well, thank you, little laddie", Nigel said, looking all around although
knowing that no one else was anywhere around. "You liked all that back
there, didn't you?"

The waifish child nodded enthusiastically.

"And you do it so well", Nigel said. "What is your name, boy?"

"Stephen", the youngster replied. "And you are the valet to the Earl
hisself?"

Nigel chuckled and said, "Yes, I am."

"What 'xactly does a valet do?", the boy asked.

"Oh, we assist men. We help them with anything they might want done." Nigel
explained. And then he winked at the tyke, "You could grow up to be a
wonderful valet with the way you like to help men. If you clean yourself up
and learn good manners, you might grow one day to be a valet in great
demand."

The little boy's eyes widened. He had never thought he could ever grow up
to be in such a lofty position. "Think so? Me?"

Nigel nodded, "You would have to learn proper English grammar and be most
fastidious in all you do, of course. But the way you can already help men
demonstrates that you have all the makings of a fine gentleman's
gentleman."

The boy blushed and smiled. "I hope to grow up to be a valet like you. All
fine clothing and food to eat and looking handsome."

Nigel thanked the boy and returned the compliment, "You, too, are very
handsome, Stephen. You cannot know how handsome you looked back there as
you helped us all."

"Thank you", Stephen said, beaming with pride.

As they strolled back to the kitchens of the Palace, Nigel asked Stephen
how he had learned to do such things.

"I don't know", the boy said, thinking. "I just always done it. Ever since
I can remember. Me and me dad before he went to heaven. And lots of others,
too. I don't know. I just always been doing it."

"Well, you are mighty good at it, young Stephen." Nigel said as he was also
silently thanking the boy's father and all the men who first inducted the
tyke into such service.

They climbed the path back to the servant's side of the Palace where they
then went their separate ways. In the years that followed, Nigel came to be
intimately close to Stephen, the cook's son, and did all he could to
encourage the boy's wanton ways.


CHAPTER FIVE

After the Earl of Sizedon died, his staff was greatly reduced. Stephen's
mother went to work in a grand summerhouse in Brighton. But the boy, only
eleven at the time, had no job offered him where his mother went. He
remained behind and spent more than a year being essentially homeless,
doing whatever passing men might ask him to do - most of it sexual - in
exchange for a crust of bread or a night's shelter.

And so when he turned thirteen, he was extremely grateful to accept the
lowly stableboy position at the Earl of Lanshire's estate. The job had been
offered to him by the stablemaster there who was just one among many men
regularly screwing the needy lad, where he was allowed to put out for
customers behind a tavern in one of the less respectable neighboring
villages.

"Rather than giving you a few pence each go around on your arse, like all
these other blokes do, what do you say you come work for me?", the
grey-haired man said one evening as he buttoned up his trousers after
having released his manseed in the boy's busy arsehole.

The stablemaster had initially been inspired to offer Stephen the job out
of guilt - when he got a good look at the boy after having screwed him one
evening. As he rebuckled his belt and watched another chap prepare to mount
the lad, the man realized he had sons quite a bit older than this lithe lad
that all the men were using for secret relief. Yet more selfishly, the
powerfully built man also figured that rather than out his own wages, which
his wife was beginning to question, he figured that by putting the little
lad on the payroll, he could make use of the boy's talented arse anytime he
wanted and do so by using the Earl of Lanshire's money.

And so it was there in the employ of the Earl of Lanshire that he and Nigel
met again. Most happy to see him, Nigel secretly would take the boy down to
the stream which ran through the thickly wooded western grounds of the
estate. It's there he could freely play with the thirteen-year-old "buggery
boy". Not having seen him in nearly two years' time, when thirteen-year-old
Stephen opened his trousers that first afternoon they were reunited, the
valet was elated to see the dark wisps of public hair surrounding the boy's
handsome manroot.

"Oh, look at you, my dear boy! I must have a taste of this now that it can
make its milk", Nigel said as he leaned forward to fellate the lanky and
promiscuous lad. While tasting young Stephen's tender foreskin, the man
also reached around and shoved three fingers into the lad's backside. That
way, as he deep-throated him, it caused the youth to ejaculate more quickly
thus giving the valet a mouthful of fresh teenaged manjuice all the more
quickly.

Nigel slurped down young Stephen's thick, fresh manjuice with
delight. "Sweet honey butter as only young men such as you churn up from
those handsome plums", Nigel said as he gently stroked the young
stableboy's hairless, low-hanging scrotum. "If you turn to the streets once
again, I imagine you'll get an even better bed offered to you each night
now that you can deliver a volley of sweet milk to hungry men."

Nigel again inserted three fingers into the lad's backside as he asked,
"How many men have mounted and put their manmilk into you since I saw you
last at Saxongate?"

Stephen laughed and shook his head, not knowing. He gave a devilish smile
as he replied, "Don't rightly know. Every night last summer I only got some
gravy and biscuits after I done some blokes behind a tavern and livery
stable in Essexton. I think I counted fifteen of them most nights but it
could have been more since they was always giving me pints of ale faster
than I could drink it."

Nigel knelt between the teen's bare and spread buttocks and unbuttoned his
trousers. He waved his erect penis in the boy's face as he grunted, "I want
to screw the finest little hole in his Majesty's kingdom once again. I
missed your little backside more than you might know 'though it seems you
have been passing this little arse all around the king's realm since I last
saw you." With that, the valet climbed atop young Stephen as a man might
mount his wife. Easily, he penetrated the wanton youth's promiscuous hole
and bucked his hips into him until he ejaculated deeply into the
boy. "Another squirt in you will do you good, laddie!", the valet exclaimed
as he thought of all those other men who'd been in his same position
releasing manmilk into the smooth lad.

In the years that followed, Nigel had enjoyed numerous such encounters with
Stephen. But since his young master, Lord Alfred, had reached the age of
thirteen, the valet's attentions had greatly refocused onto him and his
deliciously demanding young erections.

And so, there they stood at the manor's main entry, Nigel and the
fourteen-year-old Lord Alfred, waiting and watching as seventeen-year-old,
Stephen, at last rode up in a black, plain, two-person carriage to take
them into London.

Stephen, being but a lowly apprentice in the stables, had been given clear
orders throughout the years to never speak without being spoken to first
and to never reveal anything he knew regarding Nigel. Further, he was to
never utter a word about any matters concerning any family member of the
Earl of Lanshire's household. And that included ever speaking of his
knowledge that Nigel provided special service to the young Lord Alfred.

Once he pulled up, Stephen greeted Lord Alfred and his valet with only a
quick tip of his hat as he then assisted them into the carriage and rode
off in the direction of London.

Although they spoke of only the most polite matters in front of the
stableboy, Lord Alfred struggled with his erection throughout the bouncy
journey, occasionally spreading his legs to permit Nigel a good look at the
way his teen penis obscenely caused his trousers to tent.

"It is quite a lovely day", young lord Alfred jested as he splayed his legs
wider.

Nigel smirked as he looked at the teenager's trousersnake and said, "Yes,
it is indeed, young sir. In fact, I do believe I see a bird...quite a large
bird."

"Oh? Where?", the young master teased back as he discreetly gripped his
manrod through the tweedy material to show off his erection's length.

"Upon a log", the valet said. "Yes, there's quite a large log not far over
that hill and a giant bird upon it."

Stephen could hear the two but remained confused as his eyes darted along
the horizon line seeing no logs and no large birds.

As they approached London, the streets became narrower and the noise
louder. It was a lovely day in the countryside and yet thick smog hung over
the city even at ten in the morning.

"We'll be needing to go to Victoria's Station, boy", Nigel said to Stephen
as the young man navigated the bustling chaos of the city's brick and
cobbled streets.

When Stephen heard what their destination would be, he at last had a clue
as to what Nigel and Lord Alfred's trip to London might really be all
about. The stableboy knew Victoria's Station rather well since it was
there, when he was but a wee lad of four and five, that his father would
bring him in attempts to earn much needed money for the family.

With a lewder plan in mind, Stephen's father pinched some tubs of black
bootshine from an army officer for whom he did some handyman work. Whereas
his older boys, Stephen's teenaged brothers, had been sent north to work
the docks, he figured the best use of his youngest son, a surprise blessing
born several years after the others, might be to send him alone into the
busy and enormous train station. There, the wee lad would offer to shine
the shoes of men. Of course, the boy's father knew it would be but a ruse
for men seeking more from a small, handsome little lad.

And he was right. Each morning, he would bring little Stephen to Victoria's
Station and send him off alone, carrying the bootshine and a large
polishing brush. As there were professional shoeshine attendants in the
Men's Lounge area, many men simply passed the child up or tossed him a
ha'penny as a charitable nod demonstrating some concern for what appeared
to be such a young child all alone in the world, of which there were many
then.

But there were also plenty of other men who lecherously took little Stephen
up on his offer. These men, mostly respectable or even upper-class married
men, would first look all about the station, concerned about seeing a Bobby
most likely, and then indicate for the child to follow them into an
alleyway which ran along the back end of the station. It would be there
that such men would quickly squat to ask the tyke what he was willing to do
for a penny more. Stephen would reply by looking directly at the man's
crotch and licking his small lips. "That's a fine boy, good answer!", such
men would say as they would then stand, towering over the waifish child,
and quickly unfasten their trousers as to allow the little shoeshine boy to
service them, most usually, orally.

At the end of a good day servicing Victoria's Station, Stephen could hand
his father two pocketfuls of pennies.

Not having been back to London in twelve years, all those memories flooded
back to him as Stephen pulled up to the entrance of the grand station. He
tethered the horse to a post but before he could help either passenger,
Lord Alfred jumped down onto the pavement as Nigel climbed down chuckling
at his young master's enthusiasm.

"Go inside, young sir", Nigel directed to Lord Alfred. "I will be in
momentarily. I want to give the boy here instructions."

Lord Alfred, being fourteen and feeling quite frisky due to the combined
excitement of his sexual excitement and the bustle of city, darted ahead
and disappeared into the shaded coolness of the station. The teenager had
had only been to Victoria's Station once before when he was three and his
family took a trip to the sea.

Outside, Nigel slipped a pound note to Stephen. "Pull around to there", the
man said as he pointed to the first-class livery across the street from the
station. "Get yourself something to eat as well. There is a place next to
it where you can get potted meat."

Stephen took the money and then asked, "Are you going someplace? How long
should I tell the livery stable we'll be?"

Nigel laughed. "No, we're not taking a train or going anywhere. We'll be
inside for perhaps a few hours. When you're done eating, come back
here. You may want to utilize the men's lounge." Knowing he'd given Stephen
enough of a clue, and that he was a smart boy, he patted the lad's boot as
he sent him off to park the horse and carriage.

Nigel then darted between another carriage and two motorcars as he dashed
into the main entry of the grandiose Victoria Station to rejoin his randy,
well-endowed young master.


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