Conquistador Two (Part A)
By Sasha Steele
Morgan the pirate had been ordered to return to England and consequently summoned for an audience with the King. He had been pirating on behalf of the Crown for nearly three years and had grown ill used to the pampering and the confining androgynous habliliments worn by upper class males. He'd forgotten how such finery could feel both constraining and arousing at the same time.
In preparation for his audience with the King, Morgan had been rendered completely devoid of all facial and body hair, bathed and perfumed, his skin softened with oils. At the present moment he was dressed in nothing but extremely tight fitting white silk undergarments. They consisted of a camisole top with lace shoulder straps and neckline and a lace bottom fringe, and pantellettes with a generous genitalia pouchette, a high set lace waistband under the camisole, and lace cuffs. The pantellettes legs terminated at mid thigh over Morgan's white silk stockings.
The smooth texter of his delicate effeminate undergarments aroused Morgan so that the pantellettes' genitals pouchette had become tented, the material pulled taught against his erection. Morgan grasped hold of a bar as a valet stationed behind him pulled the drawstring on his corset tight and tied them in back. The white satin corset was set over his camisole with the high waistband of his pantellettes under it. The camisoles lace hem issued from beneath the bottom edge of his corset.
Morgan slipped his arms into a short tailed white silk blouse and a valet hooked the row of pearl clasps in back. The tight blouse had a short neck collar and snug sleeves with frilled cuffs. A frilly white silk cravat was tied from behind on top of the neck of the blouse and issued down in front. Valets helped Morgan into skin tight satin breeches and tied the ribbon drawstring in back. The breeches terminated below the knee over his stockings and had silver bows to the outsides of the knee. Morgan sat whilst valets placed ornate silver color ankle boots with pointed toes and fluted heels on his feet and did up their silver ribbon laces.
Then he stood again as they fitted him into a magnificent silver on silver overdress frock coat with an integrated bodice. The frock coat was elegantly embroidered, beaded and stitched with pearls and beads. The tight fitted bodice latched in front and terminated above the crotch. The attached frock coat had puffed shoulders with snug fitted long sleeves from which issued the frilled cuffs of Morgan's blouse.
The front was open at the waist with the tail angling down and around to the back of him all the way down to his calves. It left the audacious protution of the genital pouchette in Morgan's breeches on display for all to see. At the waist the tail of his frock coat flared outward slightly to the sides and more so in back with a large flower bow atop his backside to which long silver ribbons were attached.
Morgan's long dark brown hair was in a braid stayed with a silver ribbon. As is the custom for the upper class elite, Morgan wore makeup, though he kept it modest, with a light silver lip and fingernail paint along with a sufficient amount of jewelry. Morgan's erection had almost fully abated. He adjusted his cock in its pouchette as he studied his appearance in the mirror. The image there pleased him.
Morgan was led into the throne room where he awaited the King's arrival. Presently King Charlese appeared followed by his entourage. The King was attired in a flowing red gown with a long train and adorned with an inordinate amount of jewelry replete with the royal crown. He was bewigged with long curled trusses. And, where Morgan had kept his facial makeup modest, the King's maquillage was excessive with white powder,heavy mascara and ruby red lip paint.
Morgan observed that Charlese, who had been quite plump before Morgan had departed for the Americas,was even more so now. He bowed dutifully as King Charlese entered and sat down on his throne. The King motioned Morgan to him. "Your Highness," Morgan said as he kissed King Charlese's plump bejeweled hand. "One would have thought the wilds of the Americas harsh, yet it appears your mission there seems to have exacted no great toll on you," the King said. "Your actions there have placed the crown in good stead with Spain."
''It is my understanding that the Spanish King had dispatched his emissary, the Marquis Aramanabella de Adormorase on a secret mission to St Augustine while you were there." Morgan felt a twinge in his cock at the mention of the voluptuous Aramanabella. ''Did you encounter the Marquis while there?" The King asked. "The Marquis had boarded the Santa Arabesque and the Armada set sail for Spain as I fought the French in St Augustine. Morgan said. "I did not encounter the Maquis."
"You know not the purpose of the Marquis mission then?" Morgan knew he was treading on dangerous ground. It was treason to mislead the King. Morgan did know, for he had not only encountered but had intimate relations with Aramanabella. Still he pressed on. "I know not Your Highness," he lied.
"The Spanish King has dispatched yet another Armada to the Americas," the King continued nonplused. "It's purpose is unknown." "Is it His Majesty's command that I return to the Americas to investigate?"
"Drake will be dispatched for that purpose," the King said. "I have a seperate mission for you. The Spanish King has sent his diplomatic attache to thank the Crown for your assistance in St Augustine, though I suspect the visit has another reason. That diplomatic attache is none other than the Maquis de Adormorase."
"Before that meeting transpires I will be hosting a Court Ball. The Marquis will be in attendance. I want you at that Ball Morgan" the King said. He paused, "you do of course know the Marquis?" "Informally, yes." Morgan answered. "Make it formally. I want to know what the Marquis's mission was in St Augustine and why the Armada has been dispatched." "Your Highness."
The King jestered his attendants to aid him to his feet. Morgan stepped aside and bowed as the King issued past him. The King paused, turning back to Morgan. "Follow," he said, "I have a private matter that requires your attention."
Morgan followed King Charlese to his quarters. The King sat down on an elegant couch. He dismissed his entourage leaving the two of them alone. "Kneel before me," he commanded. Morgan sank to his knees. The King gathered his skirts and lifted them. His heavy legs clad in white silk stockings were spread. His genitals naked. His hard cock stood pressed to the crinoline against his fat belly. "Suck my cock," King Charlese commanded.
The King's genitals were hairless. His shaft, long and thick. His scrotum was large. Morgan took hold of the royal appendage drawing it away from the crinoline and into his mouth.
Charlese moaned his approval. Morgan gently stroked the King's cock as he took it by degrees deeper and deeper into his throat. Morgan's head bobbed up and down in unison with his hand. King Charlese tilted his head back, closed his eyes and sighed through his open mouth as Morgan continued to suck him off. "Hold my skirts," the King commanded,breathing heavily.
Morgan took hold of the King's skirts and held them to his corpulent middle. Charlese clasped hold of Morgan's head with both hands and pressed it downward onto his hardness. He jerked heavy hips to thrust his cock upward as he mercilessly fucked Morgan's mouth. The king was breathing heavily. He groaned loudly with every powerful trust. He was going to cum. Then he stopped and pressed down hard to hold Morgan there. Charlese cried out in ecstasy as his orgasm spewed into Morgan's throat. When the King had regained his composure he bid Morgan to stand. "I had forgotten how satisfying your mouth can be," he said.
Morgan left the castle with his arousal clearly visible as it tented the pouchette of his breeches. He dare not put a hand to it knowing that he most certainly would cum in his pantellettes. He boarded a carriage and prayed that his erection would abate before he reached his destination - the Peacock, a particular brothel frequented by men of the upper class. Morgan knew it well.
Upon arrival Morgan's hardon had dissipated somewhat. But he now had an urgent need to urinate. Morgan stepped from the Carriage with a hand clamped firmly to his pouchette. Without a valet to assist him, baring his cock to relieve himself was impossible. Morgan stepped into a dark alley, spread his legs and with hands on his thighs breathed a sigh of relief as warm urine coursed through the pouchette material of both pantellettes and breeches.
Morgan entered the busy tavern connected to the brothel. A fat male belly dancer with brown skin and long black hair swayed his corpulent body to music for the pleasure of the Tavern's all male occupants, many of them dressed in fashionable frocks. Morgan took a tankard of beer. "By chance is Bethel about," he asked. A male barmaid fetched him. "Morgan," Bethel said, "it has been some time."
Bethel's auburn color hair hung in ringlets past his shoulders. Heavy makeup enhanced his natural beauty. He wore a light blue colored day dress with a flat bodice, puffed shoulder caps, flounced sleeves and long furrowed skirts. Morgan's erection returned. "I see you are in need of my service," Bethel giggled.
"Rather urgently I fear," replied Morgan. "Come then." Bethel took Morgan by the hand and led him to his quarters in the brothel. Inside the door Bethel turned to embrace Morgan. They had had a long relationship. "I missed you, you know," Bethel said. "And me, you." They kissed.
Bethel put a hand to the hardness in Morgan's pouchette. Felt the dampness of the material. It was not at all unusual for men of the elite upper class to urinate through their androgenious raiment, difficult as it was to remove one's cock without the aid of a valet. Morgan would need to be painstakingly undressed by Bethel before they could lay naked together.
Bethel's soft body was devoid of hair. His genitalia, though normal in size for a man, seemed large in comparison to his boyish body. They stood naked in an embrace and kissed deeply with their hard cocks pressed upon one another. Recognizing Morgan's growing need Bethel mounted the bed offering his backside to him. Morgan positioned himself behind and quickly entered him.
Bethel lay face down with the side of his face against the pillow. Morgan lay on top as he aggressively fucked him. Bethel's moans were drowned out by the loud grunts that accompanied every one of Morgan's desperate strokes. Bethel had not seen him this hungry for a long time. As was to be expected Morgan quickly reached his climax. He drew Bethel's backside tight to him as he pressed his cock deep in Bethel's warm rectum.
Morgan cried out with the elation of his release. Bethel felt the enormity of it as Morgan's aching balls pumped spurt after spurt of warm cum inside him. Then, finally spent, Morgan withdrew and collapsed out Bethel's back. He kissed him on the cheek. Bethel squirmed around to face him. Morgan looked into the young whore's beautiful green eyes then passionately kissed him. He felt Bethel's hard cock pressed into him and sank to it.
Bethel lay on the bed with his legs spread. His raised arms rested on the bed by his head. His eyes were closed. Morgan was positioned on his stomach between Bethel's legs. His forehead was pressed against Bethel's soft stomach, Bethel's hard cock in his mouth. Bethel moaned quietly as Morgan sucked his cock. Then, as he neared orgasm, his breath guicked and his moans turned to groans. All of a sudden Bethel's body stiffened and he groaned deeply as he came in Morgan's wanton mouth.
They lay awhile in each other's arms and talked of old times. Then began the arduous process of Bethel redressing Morgan in his elegant androgenous habiliments. Morgan then kissed Bethel goodbye and took his leave.
The Marquis Aramanabella de Adormorase had landed at Southampton and travelled inland by coach to Bashmore Manor where the Marquis would take rest from his trip before continuing on to London. The importance of the Marquis's visit had been made quite clear to Lord Bashmore. Every wish of the Marquis was to be attended without question.
Lord Basmore had relocated to London for the season and so dispatched his son, the young Lord Louis to return to the Manor and attend the Marquis in compliance with the King's command. The necessary staff had been assembled and the Manor prepared. Louis was in attendance with household staff at the ready when the Marquis de Adormorase's coach arrived.
Louis had heard the court gossip about the notorious Marquis de Adormorase. Tales of exotic beauty, extravagance, cupidity and lust. He'd also heard the dirty brothel rumors that the mysterious Marquis was not a Lady of the Court at all, as appearances would dictate, but a man dressed in elegant female attire pretending to be a Lady.
As the Marquis was helped from the coach, Lois saw that Aramanabella de Adormorase was indeed an exotic beauty, imposing in figure and garbed in the most elegant habiliments. The Marquis was wearing a fawn colored day dress that had a three quarter length tunic with long sleeves terminating in lace cuffs. The long full skirts were layered with embroidered hems. And Louis saw, as the Marquis stepped down, brown high heeled dress boots were worn on stockinged feet. The Marquis's magnificent coal black tresses hung in ringlets to the waist.
The overall picture was one of an elegantly dressed beautiful woman. Yet the rumor of the Marquis being a man naged at Louis as he kissed the Marquis's soft smooth, but rather large hand. Too, the Marquis was quite large in a mannish sort of way, with a heavy set chest and shoulders, broad back and waist. And Louis detected a slight baritone in the Marquis's voice.
Aramanabella saw that, in the way Louis starred, he was awestruck by such beauty and elegance. And though Louis attempted to portray the proper Lord of the Manor he trembled ever so slightly when he took Aramanabella's hand and kissed it. The Marquis observed too that the young Lord was quite pretty with his blond hair and blue eyes. Aramanabella smiled as his cock stiffened beneath the stylish day dress he wore.
The Marquis's entourage along with an extensive amount of luggage had arrived ahead of him. His entourage consisted of a personal secretary, a guard detail and many attendants who were all young males with shaved heads wearing white tunic dresses. Louis showed his quest to the apartment that had been prepared. It was the best in the Manor, but evidently not good enough for the Marquis de Adoramorase. Aramanabella took his leisure before dressing for dinner.
A dinner party had been arranged to welcome the exotic Spanish Marquis to England. High ranking officials and local dignitaries with their consorts would be in attendance. All anxious to meet the magnificent Marquis Aramanabella de Adormorase they had heard so much about. And they were not to be disappointed.
All gasped as Aramanabella entered the hall dressed in an ornate white evening gown with a long flowing train. The brilliant white gown was silver and diamond encrusted and embellished with brocade stitching, beading, embroidery and lace. The elaborate bodice fit tightly to Aramanabella's thick corseted middle, while the skirts flared outward and back, set upon the short, wide-flaring crinoline worn beneath it. An elaborate bustle adorned the back of the dress.
Aramanabella's long lustrous black hair was held in an intricate coif with ringlets hanging over the shoulders to the Marquis's ample backside. Aramanabella's facial makeup was exotic with black mascara, dark eye shadow and silver lip paint that matched the paint on his long fingernails. And, as befitting as one so exquisite as he, the Marquis de Adormorase practically dripped in diamonds and exquisite jewelry.
Throughout the dinner party and the reception afterward, the Marquis de Adormorase proved exasperating to the young Lord. Aramanabella was overly demanding, overly indulgent, arrogant and rude to his guests. Louis was glad when the Marquis departed the dinner party for his apartment. Then, remembering his duty Louis set off after Aramanabella.
Louis saw the Aramanabella up ahead and was about to call out when the Marquis's entourage abruptly detoured into a section of the Manor that had been recently closed off for renovations. Louis caught up and was about to engage the Marquis when he noticed something very peculiar.
Standing in the shadows the front of Marquis's skirts had been raised and held up by attendants. Another of the Marquis's bald headed boy attendants was on his knees and seemed to be holding something at the Marquis's crotch. Louis heard the Marquis moan and presently saw a stream of urine arc outward and splash on the floor. Louis crept around for a more frontal view. By the time he had repositioned the Marquis had finished urinating.
But Louis had arrived just in time to witness the kneeling attendant as he stuffed huge brown cock back into the pouchette of the white silk leggles, courtesan inspired, pantielas the Marquis was wearing. The rumors were true. The Marquis Aramanabella de Adormorase was indeed a man. And a very well endowed man by the look of it. Louis was somewhat taken aback to find that his cock had suddenly become as rock hard.
End of part A