Kol Lord of Ass

Kol, Lord of Ass – Chapter 15

By Colin DV

Note: If you like Kol, check out my other fantasy erotica series on Amazon Vella. It's called "The Blue Cock" and about a lad named Vik (no relation to Kol's brother, lol), whose body is discovered to produce a most powerful blue elixir.

Emails welcome – it's great engaging with readers: ColinDV80@yahoo.com

Part I

I am Kol, Duke of Asselvya and, for 20 years now, Lord Protector of the Realm on behalf of my only brother, His Glorious Majesty, King Vik the Third of Ignatia. I am my brother's most powerful lord in men of arms, in wealth, in land, in influence. As Lord Protector, my word is law, second only to the King, even above his own sons.

In the prior chapter, I told of Svetoslav – Svi, to me – the muscled, brash, emotional, not very bright, not-at-all-inclined-towards-men, yet exquisitely fuckable lad who'd captured my attentions. I am quite experienced with lads and therefore, like any jeweler, I can quickly spot the exceptional stone – and such was Svi.

Such a discovery called for an extended visit so I could bring out Svi's gifts to their fullest. After all, a good ruler strives to put all his people to their best, most productive use.

As my valet dressed me for dinner, I was in a good mood. The day had been splendid and I'd had an ideal late afternoon – I'd fucked, bathed, been massaged and napped. So I was ready for more work.

Shortly before the bell for dinner, I had Svi brought to me. He looked exceedingly fine – dark brown pants, crisp white shirt and a dark green velvet jacket which brought out the green of his eyes. His hair was oiled and thus darkened to the color of bronze.

I dislike oiled hair. I briefly recalled one noble whose hair was so oiled I could, and did, grease my cock with it. Convenient in a pinch, yet I still disliked it.

However, I couldn't deny that Svi had clearly gone to lengths to make himself beautiful – lengths he hadn't gone to when first graced to dine with me. Oh, he had worn his most expensive clothes, of that I was sure.

But these were not his most expensive clothes. They were the clothes he believed – or, more likely, had been told by others – flattered him the most. Svi had many flaws, but vanity was not one of them. When first planning to meet me, it probably had not even occurred to him that he should even want to look his most beautiful for the event. Instead, he had strived to look his most rich, a scion of a prosperous noble house.

Vulgar and ignorant, true, yet somehow charming. I smiled at him and let my gaze linger so that the boy would know his efforts had been noted and appreciated. After all, I had to do my part in this next stage of our game.

We didn't have much time – though, technically, it was not possible for me to be late to something. That would imply I answered to someone other than the King.

I took the pot of medicinal ointment and waved it in front of his face. Svi smelt its distinctive odor and immediately went to the bed and lowered his pants.

As a boy, I'd had a hound – well, in truth, I'd had a great many hounds. But for this favored hound alone, beautiful and clever, I'd kept stocked in the stables a crock of dried meats. I would tap out different patterns on the lid of the crock and my hound would perform a trick depending on the pattern before being rewarded.

I applied the ointment to his hole. As I worked it inside, I asked: "How's your ass?"

"Err... fine, Lord. Good!" He yelped the last word out as I prodded his ass-joy.

I applied yet more ointment, poking and spreading, making him squeeze, just to be sure. As Svi had become more of a long-term prospect, my interest in his condition had increased accordingly. Bedmates were not so different from horses in that way. One had to constantly inspect them to ensure that little problems did not grow into big problems.

Satisfied that he had told the truth, I said: "Stay." I then stepped away to retrieve a cup.

I took his left hand from off the bed and placed the cup in his hand. I then adjusted him so he was holding the cup near his cockhead.

"Now hold this firmly," I said. I then stretched his hole and jerked his cock. He immediately spent into the cup with a groan.

While his spend-splattered pants had been good for a laugh on the road, it wouldn't do to spoil his finery right before he needed to be at his father's table.

Of course, I could have left his big dripping cock untouched. And if he had been a different lad, I probably would have. Keeping lads in a state of high arousal can be very useful. But I've found that works best on lads who naturally prefer cock. Then they can be aroused and fantasize about your cock.

But it gave no particular advantage to me if the boy sat through dinner thinking about a serving wench or his father's wife. Nay, for me, it was far better if the boy associated my hands with pleasure and reacted accordingly.

Svi's cock was already remarkably responsive to hole-touch. I'd build on that God's gift of a foundation and, by the time I was done, his cock would harden, his tits thicken, and his rosy hole twitch if I but made a move towards his ass.

Tap the crock lid, reward the trick.

Once his breathing had recovered, I took the cup from him and set it on the floor. I then told him to fix his attire.

As I washed my hands at the basin, I said: "At dinner, you will bring up my new venture with Lord Silvan."

"What new venture, Lord?" he asked, fastening his pants.

"The venture I am about to tell you about, boy," I said patiently. Returning to my thoughts, I continued: "At dinner, you will say this: `Lord, earlier you were talking about your creation of a new home for the Red Sisters in Torga.' Repeat that."

The boy did, but badly, so I had him repeat the sentence three more times until he had it.

"I will then tell your Lord Father about my project, that I've been granted permission by the Church to reestablish the Sisters of Charity in my township of Torga. You know of the Sisters, yes?"

The boy nodded. "They make the best red cloth."

I chuckled. "Yes, lad." Though saying the Red Sisters "made the best red cloth" was like saying that Svi's ass was "fuckable" – it was a gross understatement. The Red Sisters, through their zealously-guarded techniques, produced one of the most valuable products of the Kingdom – a red cloth which held its vibrancy far longer and better than any competitor.

The Church's grant to me of the power to fund the Sisters' reestablishment in a new home was an immense personal coup (see Chapter 8) and the wealth I'd obtain from trade and taxes due to their location in my duchy was incalculable. It was one of life's strange twists where an act of casual generosity on my part – fucking High Cleric Sol, a wise and widely respected old cleric who'd been much too pious for his own good and so badly in need of a fuck – had rewarded me many times over as the grateful cleric had engineered the vote for reestablishment to resolve a longstanding dispute the Church had had with the Sisters' prior overlord.

I smiled, thinking of Sol. I was going to gleefully fuck that old man into an early grave next I saw him. Heaven wouldn't compare.

Turning my attention back to the fuck at hand, I then said: "After I'm finished explaining the project, you will say: `Dyemakers need alum, true, Lord? Could we not produce the alum you need?' Repeat that."

He did, and much better this time around as he finally grasped the game we were playing.

Moving to exit the room, I said: "I will take it from there. You shouldn't need to say much more on the subject. Your Lord Father will be most impressed with you as this arrangement will be quite profitable for your House."

As well as Lord Gil should be impressed by the idea as it was one of my brilliant wife, Alvina's. Sourcing the alum locally would increase our profits and I had come north with the proposal already planned.

I turned to Svi and leveled him a look. "Just be sure to remember your lines!"

At dinner, I was again seated between Svi and Lord Gil. Unfortunately, the lad was visibly anxious.

Seeing the steward Klass's assessing gaze from across the room, I sighed. I could clearly imagine that he thought the boy was feeling anxious or guilty for being my fuck-lad. But, no, the boy was anxious over his lines. I sighed again – even I cannot predict all outcomes.

So it came as an immense relief when the lad finally blurted out his first line. His timing was poor but he got the words right at least. I smiled and turned to Lord Gil to tell him of the reestablishment. I did not have to manufacture my enthusiasm as the project raised my spirits whenever I thought of it.

I then glanced at the boy and he asked the question about the alum – and correctly, too. The boy had actually started sweating. But, hopefully, job done, he'd now settle down and act normally.

As for me, I pretended to consider the question. I then turned to Lord Gil with an impressed look and said: "I think... your son's idea has real merit."

Lord Gil was highly intelligent which is why I'd had to have the lad ask me about the alum straightaway. If I had drawn the matter out, to make it more believable, the old lord likely would have come up with the idea himself – mining was his bread and butter, after all.

Proving my point, Lord Gil said: "It's true, Your Grace." He paused to give his son a warm look of approval. "The quality of our alum is unparalleled, and I think you'll find our prices better than outlanders'."

I hummed, pretending to consider. "The quality of your ore is not in doubt, my lord. But price is not my primary concern – for the Sisters, I can only have the best."

Lord Gil looked at me firmly. "And you will have it, Lord." He paused. "Moreover... I expect the Sisters will need both alum and iron. We produce both, and you won't find better anywhere." He looked at me in triumph and, in truth, I had not considered the benefits of iron.

Softening, I said: "I would need to see the ore for myself and your records of production. Then... perhaps we can come to a mutually-beneficial arrangement."

Lord Gil bowed his head. "Your Grace, the establishment of the Sisters of Charity in Asselvya is a boon for all and a sign of God's favor of your rule. We are entirely at your disposal."

I smiled at him – he might even have meant his pretty words – and he smiled back. I'd come with every intention of wringing out a profitable deal, but now I could do so at my leisure as Lord Gil worked to "convince" me of the merits of a deal.

Before, the lord would have been eager to see the back of me. The honor of a progress visit – even a relatively small, informal one as this one – was a burden on any estate. Indeed, I had heard one lord say a formal progress visit was akin to being visited by a plague of locusts.

But now? Lord Gil would be loath to let me leave before he had an agreement in hand. And I was well-pleased to stretch things out so I could properly enjoy his son. Who knew? Perhaps if I was lucky I'd still catch Torsten on his return, too, and could put that special ointment to its intended purpose!

Part II

The rest of the meal went pleasantly. And I'd gone from being an honored guest to being an honored guest and an object of desire. It can be tiresome to always have people wanting things from you, but such is the burden of my station and it's one I bear easily enough.

But someone wanting something from me that I was already prepared to give? That was not tiresome at all. That was ruling well, and now I had both Svi and his lord father well-leashed.

Yes, it was a very pleasant meal. And I planned a very pleasant dessert, too, when I made eyes with the pretty serving lad Lord Gil had brought to my attention the first night.

From a moment's held gaze with the lad I could tell he was willing and my attentions wouldn't be an imposition. From there, it was a simple matter of having one of my guards tell the lad of my requirements – time, place and that he be scrubbed clean.

As I made my exit, I gave Svi a friendly squeeze on the shoulders and a whispered "well done."

I, of course, wanted Svi back in my bed, but, as I noted before, I had decided earlier that I would not invite him this night. A little space can be good for a lad in training and things were now less urgent.

Also, it was always good to keep an open mind about lads. That's how I'd discovered Svi's hidden qualities, after all. So who knew what giving the serving lad a try might uncover?

And the serving lad was a treat. He sucked my cock like he'd been sent on a mission by God to do it. He'd pull off my cock only to smack his lips and make appreciative sounds.

It felt amazing but it was also relaxing to just be after my efforts working on Svi. Even if I was not this serving lad's dream desire, he very well made me feel like I was – not just sucking me but touching me, groping me even, as if my body excited him. Whether sincere or well-acted, I was pleased.

The lad sucked me so well that I decided to grant him a boon I don't often give. I spent into his mouth, knowing he would happily swallow my seed down.

But my expectations were a bit in error, for the lad did something I'd never seen before – and I've had men's mouths on my cock from the moment I learned I could get men's mouths on my cock. He opened his mouth and presented my mass of seed on his tongue. Then, he swallowed it down, moaning.

Quite lewd. Yet effective.

Also, the light caught his eyes as he looked up at me, presenting my own seed to me. I bid him sit on my lap and he did so happily, hard cock slapping loudly against my hard stomach.

And I looked him in the face. I'd of course noticed that the lad was comely, but I hadn't noted the source. The lad's hair was jet back and so I had not made the mental connection with my blond host, but looking back at me were the same green eyes I'd seen in the faces of Lord Gil, Torsten and Svi.

So bouncing in my lap was very likely one of Lord Gil's bastards – or perhaps a nephew as I knew not the extent of his family – dead brothers, disgraced sisters and such.

The bastard looked only a litle older than Svi but he was slender, so I had no problem throwing him over my shoulder for the short walk to the bed. And once in the bed, the lad wasted no time feasting on my body – clearly a very mouth-centered lad, this one.

And when my cock arose anew, his mouth was back on it with a quickness. Sucking a second spend out of a man takes a commitment, but I doubted not this one.

Yet I had other plans. I moved him to his hands and knees, quickly greased his hole and mounted him. He took my cock easily, with apparent experience, and moaned loudly in pleasure.

My spirits lifted. Not because he was enjoying the fuck, as he wasn't. But rather because I'd noted the boy's acting and, in or out of bed, I always preferred to know a man's true feelings. Now, the bastard was faking.

I am very attentive to the men under me and I can tell when a man moans and why a man moans, whether a moan is due to my cock smacking his ass-joy, the slide of my cock, or the stretch of his hole. Some men gasp when your pelvis is hard against their ass and they grasp that they are completely, utterly impaled.

But this lad's groans were all off. And aside from that, his slender cock, which had bobbed about rigidly from the moment he saw my cock, had gone soft.

Given his gifted mouth, if he had been another boy, I likely would've stopped, cleaned off and let the boy have his treat.

But this bastard lad? If Lord Gil had the alchemy to produce so many beautiful, fuckable boys, I certainly was going to fuck every one I could get my hands on. That probably a great many cocks had gotten to this one before me did not dampen my enthusiasm. Two cherries from one House were plenty.

It was a pity about the bastard's deflated cock though. After Svi, it would have been nice to fuck a lad and stroke his cock without his immediate spending. So, since the bastard was soft and had little ass-joy, I pushed him flat onto the bed and rutted into him hard.

A rut is a fast, yet satisfying, way to fuck and in short order I was spending deep and hard into the bastard. I then rolled off him and ordered him to the basin.

And if I'd had any remaining doubts about the lad's preferences after the fake moans and soft cock, the straightforward way he left the bed would have also clued me in. Given his lewd nature, I'm sure that if he had been more of a bender, he would have presented his creamed hole to me as well.

He returned with wet cloth and soap, then proceeded to clean me with a thoroughness that alerted me to the fact that my cock was not safe from him.

But two spends warranted some sleep before more play, so I let him finish then pulled him into bed with me.

Part III

I was awoken by the most senior of my three night guards. I could tell that I had not been asleep long.

"What is it?" I asked, coming to attention. I was not angry. I chose my personal guards for their wits and judgment as much as their lethality.

Some things are worth being woken in the night for, and any lord whose servants are too terrified to do so is likely to miss out on important events and opportunities.

"Lord Svetoslav requests an audience, Lord."

I nodded – this was just such an opportunity. My guards knew their business. "Where is he now? The hall?"

The guard shook his head. "No, Lord, your outer room. I thought you might not wish him lingering in the halls given the hour."

I nodded again. "You've done well." I thought a moment longer. "Count slowly to twenty – silently – then go tell him that I am sleeping and not to be disturbed."

The guard saluted and stood there counting.

I turned toward the bastard who'd also awoken and watched this exchange. I told him: "Moan loudly as if I'm fucking you."

"Lord?" he whispered quizzically. I told him to be loud and he responded with soft-spoken questions! I had only a short window of opportunity for this particular gambit.

Sighing, I quickly reached for the ointment and slicked my sleep-hardened cock. I rolled on top of the bastard and, with one slick prod, his practiced hole let me in. That got the boy loudly moaning as his acting habit took over.

Just in time, too, for I'd no sooner entered the boy than my guard finished his count and turned to leave. Then, though the angle was off, I slapped the boy's slender ass hard a couple of times for good measure – loud enough to be heard in the next room, I hoped.

Now, I had neither expected nor planned for Svi to try to see me this night. It would have suited my purpose well enough for the lad to have some distance so he could reflect on his situation and maybe even "scheme" a bit about he was going to get things from me.

But the lad was likely not bright enough to spend an entire night scheming and had gone for the direct approach, offering me what he knew I wanted so badly. So his arrival was an unexpected gift.

Almost immediately after meeting Svi, I had noted his jealous nature. So, being turned away by me and hearing me fuck another was a perfect opportunity to stoke those jealous flames.

Jealousy is a tiresome trait in a wife. However, within reason, it's a very useful one in a mistress.

My Royal Father had taught me that all men and women require both positive and negative incentive to contribute to society. In terms of positive incentive, men and women are largely the same, whether they are noble or common, rich or poor – they labor so as to gain more wealth, more status and more bedmates.

But for negative incentives, there were differences. For the vast majority of men, it was rather simple. If they did not labor, they did not eat. Simple yet effective, as one befitting a system created by God.

But for those of wealth and station, they needed other negative incentives to balance things out and keep them productive. A favorite's status depended on the favor of their patron. Understanding that that favor could be lost and given to another helped keeped them focused on what should be their primary task – maintaining favor. And a jealous nature helpfully intensified this understanding.

My burly Svi was in no danger of going hungry. And now he'd been reminded that my favor could go elsewhere. And he'd also not know whom I'd been fucking, which would wreak further havoc with his jealous tendencies.

By now, Svi knew me well enough that he understood that I didn't need or desire favorites to make witty conversation, sing in my hall, or compose poems praising my manly prowess. Well, actually, I very much do like songs and poems, but I hardly need to be fucking the poet!

For my favorites, my favor flowed from my cock. Svi had already been incentivized to please my cock through his greed. Now he'd be even more so. Svi's showing up had been a great stroke of fortune.

I smiled, then fucked the bastard into the mattress for a second time since my cock was already there. A spend is better than warm milk for helping a man get back to sleep.

The next morning I woke to the bastard's mouth upon my cock, which I'd expected given his preferences. His sucking increased as he felt my crisis approach, but right before I passed the point of no return, I roughly pulled him off me.

I then quickly laid him on his back then took his cock into my mouth. While I have neither his gifts nor inclinations, I am quite skilled and soon had him arching and twisting as he groaned – no fake groans either. I'd not only plant my seed in all of Lord Gil's pretty sons, I'd have them all writhe like whores beneath me, too.

Before long, the bastard leaned up, grabbed both sides of my head and spurted up into my mouth and I swallowed his sweet spend. After his breathing had recovered and he released my head – a great liberty I'd permitted given the circumstances. Then I put his mouth back on my cock to finish me off.

Afterwards, as I gave him a gold coin, I told him, sternly, that it would be a grave error to speak of my business with others. Such an instruction wasn't my common practice. Normally, I cared not what servants gossiped about.

Indeed, I rather thought servant gossip was useful for leading men to my bed. It was certainly more efficient if the lad bringing my bath water was already well-predisposed for a fuck. Saved me time and my time was valuable.

But things were still in a delicate state with Svi and I didn't need wide-scale gossip complicating things until he was completely and utterly mine.

The boy took the coin and held my gaze, eyes exhibiting enough intelligence to make me feel comfortable that he would hold his tongue – a tongue which, as he walked out my room, he turned and showed me!

I was shocked – and I am not an easy man to shock – which had clearly been the little bastard's intention. The image of my seed glistening on his tongue filled my mind as I watched him turn and leave.

I decided then that I would definitely need to see the boy again. Then laughed at my own reaction. Svi could have definitely learned something from his bastard brother about how to wrap a man around his finger.

At breakfast, Svi was sullen – almost comically so. I had to wrestle mightily internally to not laugh at the boy.

Instead, I was all smiles, jokes, and friendly squeezes with him while I talked business with his father. I asked for production samples and reports – requests Lord Gil was only too pleased to say that he would arrange. Though my expressed desire to inspect the ore and reports had been mostly a ruse to extend my stay, as we discussed the matter I decided that it would not be a bad idea to actually do so. Two birds, one stone.

I also told Lord Gil that in two days I would hold court. Though it wasn't a request, he acquiesced with grace. Ordinarily, for a short visit, I would defer to my host and not hold court.

But if I were going to be staying here for more than a couple of days, it would be prudent for me to spend a day holding court listening to petitioners and sitting in judgment. While I'm sure I would have a number of disputed cows to hear, I'd also be able to settle disputes between large landowners and disputes that crossed outside Lord Gil's borders – something that Lord Gil would be hard-pressed to do. Another reason for me to not neglect my work.

And two days' notice would give folk in the area time to hear the news and travel here. Depending on the level of interest, it might take me more than a day to get through it all. Though I was hopeful that such would not be the case as Lord Gil did not seem to be a lord whose lands would be that disordered.

As for Svi, Lord Gil clearly noted his son's mood, but he appeared unbothered by it – accepting the moodiness of youth with the equanimity of a father of three sons.

Wheels set in motion for probably a week's worth of business, I stood and announced that I would ride alone this morning for exercise.

I was not surprised that Svi followed me out. As we stepped outside the building, I stopped to enjoy the morning sunshine while my men prepared the horses.

Svi behind me: "Shall I ride with you?"

I shook my head. "Nay. I wish to ride alone. It helps me clear my head."

"But you're not going alone!" he exclaimed, gesturing at the men assembling.

I huffed a laugh at his bizarre observation. "Those are my guards, boy. They hardly count."

I turned to the unhappy boy and said: "Come." I then led him to one of the many doors off the courtyard. This revealed some small sort of room for wagon equipment and would serve for this conversation. As Svi and I entered the room, I gestured that one of my guards should stand at the door.

Sighing, I asked: "What is troubling you, my lad?" I, of course, already knew precisely what was troubling him, but I had to play my part in this game.

Svi frowned. "Last night you wouldn't see me. And now you ride without me."

I smiled at him. "Ah, lad – I was not expecting you last night." Intentionally, I did not bother explaining why I hadn't admitted him.

He frowned again at what had gone unsaid, so I danced my next step. I pulled a gold band off my finger, took his hand and slid the ring onto his finger. "There, lad. Do not be vexed at me, hmm?" I kissed his hand. "You know I like you very well. We will speak more later."

The boy looked at the ring in alarm, which was perfect. There had been a chance he would've been pleased enough with another fine ring. "But... when, Lord?"

I judged we'd danced the right number of steps, so I stepped in close to him and opened his pants. I then reached between his legs, which he widened for me, and touched his hole. He was too dry for penetration, but that was hardly the point, nor was it even needed. Just my rubbing his puck with a finger was enough to have his cock rising to attention. Soon my hands on his hole would be as natural to him as a bow or slap on the back.

With my other hand, I lightly gripped one of his nipples through his shirt. His breathing hitched and his mouth opened as I precisely worked both my targets. "You know you're my favorite, yes? When I return, we'll spend some time together, hmm? I promise."

He was such a beautiful sight in that moment. Mouth open and breathing heavy. I could've made him spend right there. But I didn't. I desired not the delay our splattered garments would cause.

And I could've kissed him. But I didn't. Kisses would be the last thing he'd give me after he'd given up everything else.

Point made, I withdrew my hands and left him in the shed.

I'd left the boy both alarmed and motivated. I was quite curious how he'd "strengthen his hold" on me this afternoon.