Date: Thu, 18 Jul 2002 02:30:20 +0000
From: Davey R <chunkblossom@hotmail.com>
Subject: royalty-sucks-2

This is a fantasy story and involves a fantasy version of Prince William
that has nothing to do with real life.

--------------------

At the end of a typical day, Mark Stratton would go to the gym to work off
his aggression. To exercise, strain himself and push the limits of his body
until - the idea was - finally, after a couple of hours or more, he could
relax, be at ease with himself.
He had to exercise with brutal regularity anyway, because of the nature of
his job as hired muscle. Not the kind of hired muscle crooks rely on, mind
you. At least not any more - though he'd had some pretty shady dealings and
questionable occupations in his past. Now he was very much legit, and his
employers were as above board as you could get. In fact his employers were
crooks still, as far as he was concerned, but he didn't let it get in the
way of his job. He, with an army of others, had the job of protecting the
royal family from harm, and he did it to the best of his ability.

It was a defensive rather than a proactive job. Perhaps that was why he so
often found himself looking for an outlet for his aggression at the end of
the day. All that energy pent up inside, always at the ready to pounce at
the first sign of trouble. It could be damn frustrating, really, if that
trouble never kicked off. And in fact it rarely did. And so he ended up
taking it out on a punchbag in the gym, and then on practising his martial
arts.

But the feeling that he was bursting with furious energy stayed with him
even after several hours of working out. It seemed that rather than
releasing it, working out just increased it exponentially.
Of course there was no denying that working out had always turned him on,
and all the more so when he was able to watch other men doing it too. There
were some hot, beefy men at the exclusive gym he used, a lot of them in the
same profession as him, and the sounds of their groans and the sight of
their bulging toned arms as they lifted weights, fucking massive weights at
that, some of them... it fired him up no end.

He'd have had the confidence to approach some of those guys if he'd thought
it would have done any good, buy he could tell when a guy was interested or
not and he knew none of these men were. A shame, because a bit of totally
anonymous fucking in this horny setting might just have made the workout a
success and sent him to bed relaxed.

Instead he went back to his flat at night alone. He wished Sean was still
around, but his younger lover had left him for another guy some time ago.
Yeah, he'd treated Sean like shit, but Sean had always been into that. And
Mark had loved having that gorgeous young Irish guy in his home all the
time, always available, always ready to make love. Sean had dark beauty,
black hair, black lashes around bright blue eyes. He had a pretty boyish
face, but a body like a man. It was muscular and defined, but not as much so
as Mark's, and Sean was shorter so that when Mark held him close, Sean's
chin had to rest against the slope of his chest as he looked up at him.
He'd love to hold Mark close. he'd loved to mock-fight and wrestle with,
both of them stripping down to their underwear and then to nothing as he
playfully pinned Sean down and then passoniately rammed himself into him.
And when Sean gave in to the pleasure, it wasn't playful any more. Sean lay
foetal, his hands clutched together in front of him as Mark fucked, and Mark
watched, with a curious dispassion in his eyes considering the urgency with
which he pummelled his ass, watched and savoured the realisation of his
teenage fantasies. This man. Mine. Miiiiiine.

Those days, for the moment, were gone. Now he went home charged up by the
men at the gym, and found himself stripping off and looking at himself
posing in the mirror. Fantasising about having someone here to see how
impressively powerful his body was, and to submit to it.

There was one particular guy he always thought of these days. It was the
prince. William. He absolutely longed to make that teasing man-boy his. The
only perk of the job, being able to be so close to him. Not a lot of time
for checking him out, but he had a usefully photographic memory.

He mentioned this one evening to Dylan Maitland, his boss, over a drink. The
pair had been friends and worked together long before this job had came
along, and knew each other's tastes pretty well. He suspected Dylan wouldn't
mind having a crack at the prince either.
"I wouldn't say no to a bit of William", he said. "I man I hate the family,
but you know..."
"Yeah" Dylan said. "I know what you mean. When a guy's sexy, he's sexy and
you just can't resist"
Dylan nodded. "And it's kind of a turn-on, all this sanctimonious crap. I
mean, sometimes you just feel like you wanna give him a slap on the ass or
something. I mean, why should we act like he's our superior? We're the ones
protecting him"
"Yeah" Dylan smirked, "So we should be able to feel him up a bit now and
then"
"Hey, it's the least he could do to repay us. We drop him off safely at the
palace, he get down and gives us a bit of head. Fair exchange if you ask me"
"Hmm. Not totally. It'd be better for him to get his trousers down and bend
over"
Mark leant forward over the table. "Oh man, now you're talking. Yeah, really
show him what it feels like, huh? To get a man in him"
He leant back again, blowing air between his pursed lips. "Yeah, that'd be
hot"
Dylan was lost in thought after that. Not surprising, Mark thought.

He went to the gym straight afterwards. No rest for the wicked. His
fantasies about the prince energized him, and he was there for a good hour
longer than usual. Blood and testosterone busting through his system.
Imagining stripping the formal suit of that hunky prince and getting him to
himself, making him into pussy. Hot... submissive... man... pussy.

He was aroused by the smell of his own sweat and didn't even bother to
shower or change. He drove him in shorts, trainers and tight, sweat-drenched
T-shirt. He knew he was going to wank long and hard when he got home, and
wanted to keep that smell on him.

When he got into his flat, Dylan was waiting for him with a surprise. A
pretty good one.

He found the prince lying naked on his stomach, on Mark's coffee table. His
arms were folded in front of him, and his legs, bent at the knees were in
the air, one foot crossed over the other.
He was smiling suggestively like a whore. His body was oiled. It was
glistening delicously with oil!

Dylan himself was standing only in black briefs, reaching down and stroking
William's hair.

Mark was speechless, so Dylan spoke instead.

"Now, boy" he said to the prince, "This is your new master. You muts obey
him as you would me"
He turned his head to smile at Mark. "But first you need to get the scent,
don't you, boy? Here, Mark, give me those shorts.

Mark kicked off his trainers and pulled the shorts off, finally grasping the
situation. "Oh Dylan yes, you son of a bitch!" he grinned, throwing the
shorts across to him.

Dylan snatched hold of them, turned them inside out and dangled them in
front of the prince's handsome face.

"Here boy" he said, "Get the scent. Have a good sniff"

"Yes, Master Dylan" the prince said, obviously relishing being in a position
of subservience at odds with his priveleged existence. He clutched the
crumpled shorts in both hands and pressed them to his face, inhaling the
strong odour of sweaty bollocks. "Mmmmm yess" he moaned, "So good, that
man's smell..."

Mark had a rigid boner already as he heard those words coming from the
prince's mouth, in the prince's voice. The degrading sight of him sniffing
those shorts - oh yeah, and now sucking on them! - was fantastic. Oh yeah.
Trust Dylan to make the prince one of his conquests.
The prince raised himself from the table, climbing down from it and crawling
over to Mark on hands and knees. Mark saw his fat dick swinging from side to
side.
"If I may, sir" the prince said, kissing at Mark's toes when he reached him,
"I'd like to have a taste of the real thing".
Mark tore off his T-shirt, staring at the prince's hot arse. "You may, boy"
he growled, reaching down to put his hands underneath William's armpits and
lift him onto his knees. William reached out to hold onto Mark's thighs and
Mark took him by the ears and pressed that face against the underside of his
dick before taking aim and thrusting himself into that eager, open mouth.

So wet, so hot. So expert. Oh fuck yes! The prince was an expert cocksucker!

And right here, on the dirty carpet of his own flat, Prince William giving
him a blowjob...
"Fucking suck that manmeat, boy! Yeah!" he hissed, watching as Dylan
stripped completely and got into position to fuck William from behind. Dylan
wrapping his thick arms around the prince's chest and, gently, slowly, up
and down, sliding that mammoth cock up the prince's arsehole as the prince
deep throated Mark's own burning penis.
"Uhhh yeahh princess, doing a good job, princess, doing a good job..." Dylan
muttered into the prince's ear as he buggered him and watched him suck,
suck, suck...
And now cum. Uh yeahhh... cummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm all the way down the
prince's throat, the prince's face in Mark's hands as he came endlessly
inside him.

They took him to Mark's bed next, carried him between them, one on arms one
on legs. And when they dropped the prince face forward onto the mattress, he
reached round for his butthole and pulled it wide open. "Fuck me, Mark" he
gasped, the strong hunky young prince.

Oh *y*e*a*h*. Hold your big cock in front of you. Picture the  (  O  )  of
that anus only inches away.