Date: Sun, 30 Oct 2005 13:28:21 -0700
From: Elryc Caledon <morgorn1@hotmail.com>
Subject: The Prince - Part 1

[Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction.
Any similarities between actual
events and the events in this story or
the characters in this story are
purely coincidental. This story
involves descriptions of unsafe sexual
acts between men for the purpose of
erotic fantasy and is not intended to
condone such acts. If you are underage
or homoerotic material is otherwise
illegal in your area, please do not
continue. Author retains copyright; do
not duplicate this story without the
express written consent by
the author. Comments and suggestions
are welcomed by the author at
morgorn1@hotmail.com]

The Prince

Morien awoke as usual before the rising
of the sun, and he hurried through a
a few tasks before setting off for the
field he was assigned to work in for
the day.  Though uneducated and of no
rank in society, laborers such as
himself were able to command fairly
good wages, and added to that, Morien
had learned the value of saving and
someday he hoped to have enough put
by for him to travel to another part
of the land and thus leave behind him
painful memories of all that had passed
in recent years.

Morien was alone now, his father having
died of the Plague several years
before, his mother had died in the
previous winter of pneumonia--however,
Morien remained convinced her death had
partly been her own doing.

Though an industrious woman, and tireless
in her efforts to ensure her only child
remained fed and warmly clothed, still
her mind had been damaged by the horrors
of what she had witnessed when the Plague
first struck the countryside, and she
never fully recovered.  She had been
given to solitary walks in the meadows
and fields around the village, often
getting soaked through from her walks
through grass that was long and wet, and
finally she had succumbed to an illness
that developed after an extended period
of such ill-advised wanderings, and that
was also aggravated by her often forgetting
to eat enough to maintain her strength.

In the wake of the Plague that swept
the countryside in waves over and over,
the local populace had declined
dramatically.

Though Morien had been very young when
the Plague had struck his village for the
third time, still he remembered the
sprawled, bloated bodies cast out into
the street, the choking air of suspicion
and panic that enveloped almost everyone.
In vain did the Church try to intervene;
all  prayers, all supplications, were
without the slightest effect.  Unhindered
and misunderstood, the Plague cruelly
marched from one settlement to the next.

Some villages recovered while others
simply faded away.  The village that
Morien lived in was one of the latter.
Morien's cottage was the only one of
about a dozen that was occupied. Many
structures were falling into serious
disrepair and not many more years would
pass before some collapsed entirely.

And thus it was as Morien set out for the
fields this morning, that it was quiet in
the pre-dawn lightness, as hardly anyone
was left within some miles to stir.  He
walked along the the faint remains of the
lane quickly, while keeping his eyes and
ears keenly tuned to the presence of
anything out of the ordinary.  Robbers
sometimes frequented the area.  Morien
kept his savings hidden away in the forest
beyond the cottage and he, like others of
his generation instinctually avoided almost
all other humans except those who needed
him to work in their languishing fields and
who were prepared to pay handsomely.

Morien heard the clip-clop of the horse
traveling down the lane long before he
actually saw the traveler and he left
the open lane and withdrew far enough
into the forest so he could stand quietly
and observe whoever was passing by.

Presently, the horse appeared, a black
steed with a mounted rider, cloaked in a
dark material who sat with ease as they
moved along.

As the horse and rider passed abreast
Morien's position in the forest, the rider
reined the horse back and stopped.  Then he
looked directly at Morien's position in
the forest, which caused Morien's heart to
thump nervously.

"Hullo?" the rider called inquiringly in
Morien's direction.

Morien remained silent.

"I know you are there; please come out.
I will not harm you," the rider called out,
in a strangely reassurring tone, and with
an accent that informed Morien that this
man was not of the immediate countryside.

Morien, almost against his will, felt
compelled to step forward towards the lane,
and stepping out into the lane, he warily
kept enough distance between himself and
the horse so that he could effect a hasty
retreat if needed.

"Can I be of help?" Morien asked in his
clear voice, which sounded loud in the
expanse of the lane.

The man pulled the hood of his cloak back
from his head.  His eyes, though they were
fixed in a kind gaze at Morien, were offset
by rather sharp features and the hard line
of his mouth.  He was handsome, and
interesting to look at, not at all like
some of the coarse-looking field laborers
that Morien was accustomed to.

"That depends on you," the rider said.

"In what way?" Morien responded.

"I have had occasion to watch you at work
these past several days.  I am impressed
with your...abilities, and thus I am come
to meet you on purpose, to inquire if you
would be interested in a situation in a
large northern estate."

"You've been watching me in the fields?"

"Yes, I have been quite close to you,
though I took care that you should never
see me."

"And what is the situation you have in
view?" Morien asked.

"You would be working in a household,
attending to certain needs of my master,
as he is in need of the services of a
steward."

"You speak, sir, as if you are connected to
nobility," Morien replied, "I am of no rank,
not even of the servant class, my father was
in trade and my mother the daughter of a
farmer."

Here the rider slipped down from the horse,
whereupon Morien moved back slightly, as he
was yet distrustful of the man.

"I assure you I am unarmed, and care not for
the contents of your purse."  The rider held
his hands high.

The rider lowered his arms and continued.
"You have qualifications, other than rank or
family connections that I have closely
observed."

"And these qualifications would be?"

"You can read and write?"

"Tolerably so."

"Most unusual.  I've heard you sing.  Who
taught you, your mother?"

Morien nodded.

"You take care to clean your teeth, and you
bathe regularly, something almost unheard of
in these times."

Morien merely stood mutely.  His mother,
going against the advice of her peers, had
always insisted on his regularly bathing and
keeping his clothing washed.

"If you will come over to me, I will explain
more of your qualifications to you," the rider
invited with an outstretched hand.

To his surprise, Morien felt one of his feet
move and the other, and soon he was standing
in front of the rider, quite close. Although
he was unsure of what the rider intended, he
felt no fear.  The man smelled of his horse,
and leather, lavender, and cedar.  He smelled
clean, and Morien closed his eyes halfway
and breathed deeply of the pleasant odors.

"Ah," the rider murmured gently, and Morien
opened his eyes again, and felt his cheeks
turn pink as he saw how close the rider's
face was to his own.  The rider was
considerably taller then Morien, forcing
Morien to tilt his head back to gaze
up at him.

"Your father died when you were young?"

"Yes," Morien nodded.

"Your mother, was she a handsome woman?"

"I always thought so."

The rider had removed his gloves, and now
he cupped Morien's face with his right hand.
Morien did not shy away from the touch.

"You are quite handsome," the rider said
gently.

Confused at the feelings welling up inside
him, Morien stood quietly and said nothing.

"And there is another qualification beyond
that," the rider half whispered.  He turned
his head slightly, and the pulled Morien's
face towards his own, and then his lips found
and melded with Morien's own.

Morien's conscious mind almost faded away as
he allowed the rider to first kiss him, and
then to caress him as their tongues met
and danced together.  Never had Morien
experienced such sensual pleasure.  A
wave of heated sexual pleasure washed over
his entire body, his knees became weak, and
he could feel his manhood pressing urgently
against his clothing.  Morien could also
feel the rider's burning hardness against
him as he crushed Morien into his arms and
held him close.

After what seemed an eternity, the rider
pulled back a little and looked into Morien's
eyes.

"Come with me, and serve my master?" the rider
asked.

"Yes," Morien said breathlessly.

"Let us go back to your cottage, and collect
what you want to take with you."

"What is your name, sir?" asked Morien.

"I am Bradbury."

After another lingering kiss, but with
considerably less ardor, as Bradbury laughingly
said something about their standing in the
middle of the lane, the pair set off and they
walked back the short distance to the cottage,
while Bradbury led the horse.

Morien felt almost as if he had been bewitched,
but he made no real resistance to the feelings
that were coursing through him.  He had always,
since the finding his mother cold and lifeless
in her bed, wanted to leave the village behind,
and here was his opportunity to do so.

It did not take long for Morien to quickly
assembly what small matter of items he wished
to take with him.  He also took care to collect
the small hoard of coins he had buried out in
the forest.  Soon, he was ready.

Bradbury had said little when Morien was going
through his preparations, and busied himself
with taking care of his horse.

The sun had, in the meantime, come up.  After
informing Bradbury of his being ready to
depart, Morien stood inside and surveyed the
small dwelling again for any items he might
have missed.  He did not feel regret at leaving
this lonely existence.

Bradbury came up behind him and stood quietly,
then gently enfolded Morien in his arms.
Morien turned and again they kissed.  The
flames of passion that had cooled since the
first kiss out on the lane, suddenly flared
again.

Bradbury reached up with his right hand, and
then placed it on the back of Morien's head,
and pulled his head all the way forward, while
his lips ravished Morien's.  He reached down
with his other hand, and grasped Morien's
buttocks, and then pulled him upwards into the
air, with Morien's feet vainly struggling to
stay on the ground.  Bradbury half-lifted
Morien and spun him around, with his lips still
locked onto Morien's.  The two fell into Morien's
nearby bed.

Morien's head swam with lust, not knowing what
was going to come next and not caring either.
The moment at hand was all that mattered.
Years of loneliness, lust and frustration had been
brought to the boil and he returned Bradbury's
frenetic kisses and gropings with feverish
movements and energy.

As the two writhed on the bed, gradually they
stripped their clothing off.  Bradbury moaned
in lust as his eyes feasted on Morien's masculine
beauty, and Morien looked with wonder at the hard
muscles of Bradbury's broad chest, the rock hard
abs, and lower down, the hotness of the strong,
stout shaft crowned with a flaring head that was
thrusting into his own sweating abs.  Morien's
own organ was only slightly smaller than Bradbury's.

Gradually, Bradbury twisted their bodies to where
his was on top of Morien's body.  Morien could
feel Bradbury's thick cock grinding into his body.
Bradbury's hand reached down to Morien's thigh,
to his knee, and then lifted Morien's leg up.
Morien fought to keep the leg down, sliding around
under Bradbury, which merely excited him even more.
Bradbury pinned Morien's right leg down with his
own legs, and then raised Morien's left leg up and
over, and then Morien felt the heat of the broad
cockhead on his exposed ass.

Through his lust Morien felt a twinge of fear.
But Bradbury's mouth covered his own, and told him
not to be afraid.  Bradbury's hand grasped a small
bottle of oil he'd had in a pocket, and presently
Morien felt fingers delicately passing over and
around his most secret of places, and he gasped
with pleasure.

With their arms locked into place, Bradbury made
a few sweeping passes with his cockhead on Morien's
exposed ass, gently probing, testing, teasing.
Then his cock found his target, and pushed inside.

Fire spread within Morien's ass, and he threw his
head back and gasped painfully and then bit his
lip.  Bradbury eased back out, kissing him in
the meantime and soothing him.  When the pain had
died back, he again pushed inside, and then held
still and allowed Morien to get used to his girth.
Soon, after several short thrusts, his cock was
buried completely within Morien's ass.

As soon as he felt Morien had adjusted, he began
to thrust, pulling nearly completely out at each
thrust.  Morien writhed with pleasure as Bradbury
gradually built up the power and speed of his
thrusting.

Presently, Morien's legs wrapped around Bradbury's
body, pulling towards him with each stroke, and
Bradbury was free to plunge in deeply and impale
Morien's beautiful body on his cock.

Such lust cannot last forever, and after a while
Bradbury's movements became even harsher, and
less controlled, and then Morien's own cock
expanded and exploded, sending long ropes of
sticky semen spurting upwards between their two
bodies, some even striking Morien in the face,
and then Bradbury stiffened almost in agony, as
Morien's ass clamped down in his orgasm against
his thrusting cock, straining at the supreme
moment of ejaculation and Morien heard Bradbury
groan deep in his body as Bradbury's cock
began firing its load deep inside of him.

There was moment of absolute bliss.  Bradbury's
cock slowly softened and slid out of Morien's ass.

After lying quietly for about half an hour, Bradbury
stirred and said that they should be getting on their
road, and the two quietly rose and dressed for the
journey.  Bradbury gave Morien a cloak to wear,
which was similar to his own.  The two mounted the
horse and set off on their journey towards Bradbury's
master and the estate under his control.