This is a fantasy story and involves a fantasy version of Prince William. It's in no way true, and follows directly on from the previous untrue instalment. Feedback and stuff is welcome.
Quite a security operation to get Prince William into a rough bloke's South London flat for the night. But as security co-ordinator Dylan Maitland was up to the job. It involved fabricating cover stories and exaggerating threats to the prince's safety, it involved some deception of his staff. But it was entirely worth it. The young prince was a prize worth posessing, and to own him to the extent of loaning him to friends was extremely satisfying. Dylan and Mark had shared lovers in the past, finding they enjoyed being able to look at each other as they exercised and fed their lusts, and to bring this handsome priveleged creature into the same submission as all those other men who loved dick was the best.
Mark's flat was ordinary, disordered and a bit untidy. Unwashed coffee cups about the place, the previous day's underpants still lying on his bedroom floor. Dying plants that had been there for months but that he'd never taken any notice of. A stack of sticky magazines with pictures of muscular posing teens. It just wasn't part of the same world as the royals. But there was the prince, on Mark's still-unmade bed. The bright, handsome, fresh young royal who was young and sexy enough to help give the illusion there was life in the dead institution. Everything a man of his age could want to be; handsome, well-built, rich, fertile. Desired by thousands of girls and women. And crouched pathetically in humble submission as an older man fucked all the dignity away from him. The prince's face pushed against the crumpled bedcovers as his arsehole contracted around the proud, vicious cock of one of his bodyguards. Mark's big hand clutching the back of the prince's head as he forced it into those bedcovers. The prince on hands and knees, fucked. His head bent forwards to a nearly unnatural degree by Mark's powerful hand. Bow before the real man, fuckboy.
"Uuuhhh please, yeah, pleasse..." the prince gasped, "oh yes master... you're so big..." Oh yeahhhh, the contours of the muscles in the prince's wide shining-wet back were the biggest turn-on. To see the strength and the beauty of what had voluntarily became his toy for the night... oh yeah, and the noise of the prince's weakly groaning voice, strong confident boy-man turned to begging, whimpering pussy. "I'm going to cum into you now" Mark growled, "because you were made to be cummed into and because it's gonna be so fucking FUN" "ghhh...ohyescum... I love men, I love what men do to me...". Mark's fingers spread over the prince's face, making it more difficult for him to speak. "You're going to fucking love what this man does to you, then!" Mark grinned, a wolf's grin, his real accent, his South London accent, more raw than it had ever been before around the royals. He was being himself for the first time; himself, as raw and hard as the thick red hot cock that grew from him and pierced his slave. Yeah, fucking slave, surrendering everything that made him a man and loving it, placing his manhood into total subservience before his master's. Slave to submission just as Mark was driven crazy with lust by this vital, panting evidence of his own dominance, by THIS- THIS!!! Himself bucking forward, all of him thrusting forward and deep and hard, his cock filling all the space inside the enslaved arsehole, THIS! anus giving way to him and accepting his furious masculine lust -oh yeah, the submissive piece of sexy, oiled meat that screwed it's big broad wonderful face up in sheer pleasure at being skewered so - Oh yeah, how could it think that was pleasure? THIS was pleasure, this was the deepest satisfaction a man could feel, to make another man the instrument of his lust- -this man supposed to be more than his equal, but instead his slave, his posession- FUCK YEAH THE CUM THE CUM THE CUM All his being bursting forward and burning, white hot fire at the pinnacle of his cock, fire searing the insides of William "Get that down you, boy! Get that down you!" he bellowed, "I want you to fucking swallow this jizz into your insides, I want you to suck on it with your butthole!" William's eyes screwed shut, his big jaw wide open, drooling, watering like his eyes watered, the magnificent hunk crushed up against the headboard by the force of his master's thrusts. Oh yeah, his arse still so tight around Mark's cock. He watched, dick still firmly erect, as Dylan - oh yeah, Dylan naked looked so tight and strong and ruthless - Dylan wanked his cock off over the prince's meaty back and squirted his own thick cream across it. Mark smeared the cum aross that back, rubbed it in like lotion. Make him stink of the lust he'd caused.
Mark got off the prince and the bed, then took hold of the prince's wrist and instructed him to come along into the living room. There, he reached into a chest of drawers and took out the red lace panties he'd enjoyed on Sean sometimes. William slipped them up over his shapely muscled legs and thick, firm thighs eagerly and posed in them for Mark and Dylan, asking how they looked. "Not bad, princess" Dylan agreed. It was a fucking horny sight. Mark gave the prince a duster and had him clean the flat up while they sat and 'watched TV' (in reality they never took their eyes off the beefy new maid). Next they had him clean the kitchen and bathroom. So good to see him on his hands and knees scrubbing the toilet bowl. They simply stood over him and watched, savouring the opportunity to have him serve them for once. And for his reward he would have the taste of his owner's cock. For him, for them; bliss.