The Prince

Chapter Eight - The Latrine

After lessons, lunch and physical training the next day, Harold observed to his friend, "Pee-things are all very different, aren't they?"

"I wish you'd call it something else," Billy replied. "Call it a pecker or a cock or a dick. That's more grown up."

"Sir Wesley called his a pizzle."

The young man gave the Prince a funny look. "Anyway, yeah, they're all different sizes and shapes. But they all do the same thing."

"I wish I could see more," said Harold wistfully.

The opportunity presented itself the very next week. The King and Queen left to visit a neighboring monarch for a few days. "My ministers will keep the government running in my absence," Egbert told his son, "and Lord Russell will look out for you."

"I'm old enough to look out for myself," the Prince protested. "And I should be in charge when you're not here."

"Perhaps when you've had more experience," the King responded. "I'll let you be in charge of the welfare of the servants, so you can get some practice in settling their petty problems."

"Thank you, Father. I'll do my best."

The very next day there was a complaint about the condition of the Central Latrine.

Although all the nobles' apartments had sumptuous baths, the servants and guards had but one large latrine and bathing area, divided for men and women. There were fewer than twenty female servants, and their area was always spotless, but counting all of the guards and officers, there were over two hundred males living in and around the palace, and their latrine was usually crowded and often less than clean. The Prince had never ventured in there, but this day he summoned Gerard to escort him to the latrine so that he could inspect the problem.

To one side was a large shower room, its tile walls lined with nozzles. It was empty at the moment. There was a row of sinks with spattered mirrors, a filthy trough urinal that might accommodate four men at a time, and half a dozen toilets set in doorless cubicles. The place stank of urine. As Gerard and Harold stood there surveying the place, men came in, mostly to pee at the trough, and then left hurriedly when they saw thier royal visitor.

"This is terrible," the Prince declared. "I order that this room be closed and thoroughly cleaned right now."

"But what facilities should the men use while that is happening?" the big guard inquired.

Harold thought for a moment. "There is a large drain in my private courtyard. Place a hose so that water runs into it continuously, and let the men relieve themselves there." The drain was right outside a window of his bedchamber.

The latrine was closed and a team of servants set about scrubbing every inch, and all the males in the palace were directed down a long corridor to the Prince's courtyard, where there was room for just one at a time to pee into the drain. Soon there was a line of men waiting their turn.

Harold sent Billy off on errands, and then he sat by his window and looked out. Just a few feet away, men opened their trousers, pulled out their cocks, and peed into the drain. The Prince was so excited by this spectacle that he shot Royal Seed twice within the first half hour. He saw large cocks and small ones, cut and uncut, straight and curved ones. Some men peed for a very long time, while others were done quickly. He was amazed at the variety of organs, and also at the different ways the function was performed.

When he had regained his composure, he strolled out into the courtyard to view the queue of men, some of whom were squirming in discomfort. He was surprised that he could become aroused again so soon. Then, behind him, he heard a splashing sound. A burly guard was relieving himself in the fern garden!

"You, there!" he called out. "Stop that and come with me!"

Embarrassed beyond measure, the man followed the Prince into his apartments.

"Why did you soil my garden that way when I've provided you a place for relief?" Harold asked sternly.

Red and sweating, the man replied, "I'm so sorry, your highness, but I couldn't hold it no longer."

"I thought that a man like you could hold his water. Are you not a man?"

"My missus thinks so," the guard responded weakly.

"What is your name?"

"Albert, your highness."

"Well, Albert, until sundown tomorrow you will present yourself to me when you wish to relieve yourself. If you are the man you claim to be, that won't be often. Now you are dismissed."

As soon as Albert left, Harold returned to his window, and he again spilled Royal Seed into a towel. Then there was a rap at the door, and when the Prince bade his visitor to enter, it was Gerard.

"The latrine is clean and ready," the guard informed him.

"Let me check."

Every fixture and tile gleamed in the room, and when Harold declared it fit for use, a parade of servants and guards filed in.

"Use only the trough to empty your bladders," he stated to all within earshot. "The toilets are for your other business. Wait your turn if you must, or come back when it is less busy. And keep this place clean, or you will find it infinitely more inconvenient to relieve yourselves." Then he returned to his bedchamber, where Billy was waiting.

"I guess you saw your share of cocks today," the young man observed.

"It was so exciting!" the Prince exclaimed. "I wanted to touch every one of them!"

"Well, you can't do that. You may have to be satisfied with mine."

"You would let me do that?"

"If that's what you need to do, yes."

That evening, the two young men filled their bladders to the point of desperation, and Harold watched his friend release a flood into the toilet. Then the Prince tried again to pee with Billy observing, but to no avail.

"Why is it that I can't relieve myself when someone is watching?" he asked.

"Maybe you were brought up to think it's too private to have someone looking.

I've seen your dick, at least a quick peek or two, and it's a fine one."

"It's not as big as yours or Sir Wesley's"

"But you must have seen some today that were smaller," Billy stated. "Besides, as long as it works, who cares how big it is?"

"I suppose you're right."

"And now, I promised you some play time." The young man stripped to his underpants and lay on the bed. The Prince gaped at his friend's muscled upper body and at the great mound at his crotch. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he began to fondle, rub and play. An hour later, Billy had cum twice, and Harold was greatly aroused.

"Shall I take care of that for you?" the young man said, pointing to the Prince's tented trousers. With great anxiety, Harold dropped his pants and allowed his friend to manipulate the Royal Penis through his underpants, and despite his extreme excitement, it took a long time before he shot his Royal Seed.

"If you can do that with me, then you can piss in front of me," Billy concluded.

Just then there was a knock on the door, and as soon as the two young men had their clothing in place, the Prince called for the person to enter. Accompanied by a guard was Albert. Harold dismissed the guard and closed the door.

Albert glanced nervously at Billy and said, "Your highness, I needs to make water. I needs to go real bad." He shifted rapidly from foot to foot.

"You've waited as a man does?"

"Yes, your highness. I been holding it long as I can."

"We'll see if it's a man-sized amount." The Prince led the man into the Royal Bath and he frantically opened his trousers to display his unimpressive cock and began to pee into the toilet. When he was done, Harold observed, "I'm not sure that you were as full as you claimed to be, but that was adequate. I don't expect to see you again until bedtime."

"Yes, your highness. Thank you, your highness," the man said as he bowed and left.

The Prince explained to Billy what that was all about.

"I think you found that more arousing than when I'm bursting to go," his friend remarked.

"I suppose that's because you're doing it on purpose," Harold responded.

Chapter Nine - Sir Wesley

"Father, I need to get out more and see our realm," Prince Harold told his father at dinner.

"I suppose you're right," King Egbert replied, "but you must be well protected at all times."

"Then I have your permission? I'll ask Sir Wesley to arrange for a proper escort."

On Friday morning, Harold and Billy set out in a sturdy carriage, accompanied by the big knight and twenty muscular, young guards and several servants. They toured the capital city, stopping at various places to admire the buildings and to talk with a carefully-screened selection of people. The Prince was impressed with much of what he saw, but he was also concerned about pockets of poverty that he noticed.

"We must find these people employment so they can live better," he resolved.

At a large park, Harold suggested that they stop for lunch. "Have my meal set out over there," he said, pointing to a copse of trees. "The others can enjoy this warm sun on the field." The trees provided a private spot for him to pee, but when he saw others moving in the same direction for the same purpose he instructed Sir Wesley to tell them to wait until their return to the palace. The knight gave the Prince a grin and a wink. "I know what you want," he responded, and issued the orders.

The Prince and his entourage arrived back at the palace in midafternoon, and he instructed that the guards remain in the outer courtyard so that he could address them. They stood at attention, some clearly in great discomfort, as Harold thanked them for their loyal service, and indicated that he was considering some of them for a special unit, the Protectors of the Prince. Then he walked past them slowly, inspecting each one. They were all splendid specimens, muscular and pleasing to look at. Their snug-fitting uniform trousers showed the generous endowments of some.

At the end of the line stood one especially nervous young man, and as Harold approached him he saw why. Down his leg was a wet stain.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Prince demanded.

"I - I couldn't hold it any longer, your highness," the man sputtered.

"Is this a problem, Sir Wesley? Must we send them to the toilet like small children?"

"These are men, your highness," the knight replied. "They can contain themselves as men should. Walter, here, is new to our unit and hasn't learned all he must."

"Then report to me later and tell me how you plan to train him. As for the rest, give them each a mug of ale with my thanks, and then a hour's rest here in the courtyard before you dismiss them."

Harold watched the group from a window. There was an undercurrent of grumbles as the ale was dispensed, and several men approached Sir Wesley and spoke quietly with him. Each time the knight shook his head, and then glanced up at the Prince and gave him a wink. As the hour drew to an end, Harold strolled down to the entrance to the latrine.

Nineteen guards and one knight approached at a rapid march, some with a look of panic in their eyes, a few pinching their trousers furiously. Sir Wesley formed them into four lines to wait for their turns at the urinal, looking with disdain at one who proceeded to wet himself before he reached the trough. When they were done and sent to their barracks, the Prince invited the knight to join him in the Royal Apartment, having sent Billy off to his family for the weekend.

"I hope you saw enough desperate men to last you for a while," Sir Wesley said.

"They held it in quite bravely, didn't they?" the Prince responded.

"Your highness, I must admit to having an urgent need myself," the big knight stated with a slight smile.

"I thought you could wait practically forever," Harold responded.

"I haven't relieved myself since early this morning, and even my muscles tire after hours of holding. If I don't use the toilet almost at once, I will disgrace myself."

The Prince poured him some cider. "Perhaps, before dinnertime, I'll let you use the Royal Bath."

They talked about the proposed Protectors of the Prince, and about the physical training of the men. The knight showed no sign of distress until he suddenly furrowed his brow and gripped his mounded crotch with his large hand.

"Your highness, I'm afraid I can no longer hold it in."

"Then remove those trousers before you soil them."

Moving quickly into the bath, the knight stripped off his entire uniform and stood there in just his underpants, pulling on his great bulge and moving from foot to foot. Harold was almost uncontrollably excited.

"Your highness, I really must use the toilet now," the big man said with genuine concern. And then he grimaced as pee suddenly gushed through his fingers and poured onto the tile floor. On and on it went, a seemingly endless flood, and when the knight sighed at its conclusion there was an enormous pool at his feet.

Harold fondled his tented crotch. "I never knew a man could hold so much!"

"It wasn't easy," Sir Wesley conceded. "I was truly at my limit."

"You are a great man in many ways," the Prince stated as he stared at the enormous cock in the knight's now-transparent underpants.

"You are welcome to use me in whatever way will satisfy your needs," the knight told him.

Harold could not resist. For the next hour, he explored the man's amazing body and his equally-amazing gentitals. Royal Seed spat into his pants twice in the process, but Sir Wesley managed to control himself. Finally, the Prince was exhausted, and though the knightly shaft was swollen and hard, the big man pulled on his clothing and politely asked, "Is there any other way that I can serve you tonight?"

"Return to your quarters with my thanks," Harold said sincerely.

"I do what I must to preserve the realm."

Chapter Ten - Developing a Conscience

There were shrubs in the Prince's private courtyard that needed to be moved, so Harold summoned the dim-witted Arthur on Saturday morning to do the work for him. He poured the man an enormous tumbler of cider before he started, and half an hour later gave him another. Predictably, the man soon said, "Your highness, I needs to make water."

"You've hardly begun your work," the Prince replied. "Can't you wait a bit?"

"I been holdin' it, and I gots to go now real bad."

Harold led Arthur into the Royal Bath and was about to prolong his desperation when he took a good look at him. The poor man was so fearful of disgracing himself, and he was squeezing and squirming in a frantic attempt to keep from wetting his pants, and suddenly the Prince felt sorry for him. "You may use my toilet," he declared, and the man raced over to it, yanked out his short, thick cock and peed strongly for a short while. Then he thanked Harold profusely and returned to his labors in the courtyard.

Later in the day, Harold summoned Sir Wesley and related the incident.

The big knight smiled. "Your highness, you are developing a conscience. As nobles, it is our duty to protect the commonfolk, and we must avoid taking advantage of them. You did the Right Thing today with Arthur."

"But yesterday, you went along with making the guards wait so long."

"That was different. As strong young men, they must learn to be in control of their bodies. It is one of the manly values that will earn them dignity and respect. Even young Walter will learn in time."

"Is it wrong if I make Billy hold his water to please me?"

"He's far more able than poor Arthur, and he knows his role here. He can leave at any time without penalty. Indeed, you must be aware that he is using you for his own advancement. He knows there are risks, and he accepts them with his eyes wide open."

"How is he using me?" Harold asked innocently.

"He has extorted favors from the palace staff, and there are wenches he has bedded and given gifts to. Have you not noticed that there are items missing from your apartment?"

"I thought I just mislaid them. Billy has stolen from me?"

"Just small things, and perhaps he believed he earned them. But he is not the friend you think he is."

When Sir Wesley stood to leave, he took the initiative to shake the hand of the heir to the throne. "Someday you will be a good king."

Billy returned on Sunday night, full of stories about his family. Harold told him about the Friday outing, but not about his change of heart with Arthur, nor of his experiences and conversations with Sir Wesley. Then they went to bed early.

Monday's studies went on as usual, and after using the toilet before lunch, the Prince said to his friend, "You can wait, can't you?"

Billy smiled. "I could really use a piss, but I can do that after we eat."

But they proceeded directly to mathematics, and when that was over, the young man told Harold, "Thank God there's a toilet in the changing rooms. I'm bursting to go!"

Sir Wesley intercepted them in the hallway and led them outdoors to the enclosed playing field. "Today," he said, "we're going to see some examples of hand-to-hand combat. I have several of my men to demonstrate for us."

Four muscular, young guards in snug, revealing shorts appeared, and the boys sat on a bench as the first example was given. Billy pinched his crotch and whispered, "You've got to send me on an errand or something. I don't want to piss my pants in front of these men."

"I'm sure you'll be able to hold it in," Harold stated.

As the second demonstration was being described, Billy got up from his seat and tried to slip away.

"You there!" Sir Wesley roared at him. "You will show these men the respect they deserve!" Then he looked at the Prince. "Unless you have given him permission to leave?"

Harold shook his head.

"Then you will remain. Let the combat continue."

Billy's face showed panic, and then he trembled and gripped his crotch. Standing in front of all of them he began to wet his pants. The muscular guards exchanged smiles and the big knight scowled. He waited until the flow seemed to abate.

"You are excused," Sir Wesley told the young man. "This lesson is for men, not children."

Burning with embarrassment, Billy stalked from the field. Later, in the Royal Apartment, he confronted Harold.

"You did that on purpose!" he said accusingly.

"And if I did?" retorted the Prince. "You've paid yourself well enough to handle a small disgrace."

Billy burst into tears. "I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. They were just a few baubles that you didn't care about anyway."

"And you did earn some compensation. But you should have asked. I would have given them to you."

"Does this mean I'm dismissed from your service?"

"No. But you need to move your things to the servants' quarters. You're still welcome to accompany me on my lessons, and with the education you'll receive you'll be able to have a fine job someday. We can still be friends, but perhaps not as close as before."

Chapter Eleven - Roger

The rest of the week was somewhat strained for both Harold and Billy, but by Friday they were able to joke and fool around a bit. Still, the evenings for the Prince were lonely.

On Saturday, Sir Wesley asked to speak with Harold.

"Your highness," he said, "you seem less happy that you were before."

"I miss some of the fun with my friend," the Prince admitted.

"Then perhaps I can introduce you to someone who has a great deal in common with you. Lord Berwick's son, Roger, is just your age and seems to be more like you than you might imagine. I've been training him in the martial arts, and I've observed quite a lot about him."

"Can you arrange for us to have lunch together?"

"I've already done so." The big knight winked.

Roger was of medium height with reddish hair and a shy smile. His body was very well developed, and Harold found him attractive. They talked of sports and lessons and of some of the more notable nobles as they dined, and afterwards the Prince invited him to the Royal Apartment.

"What do you think of Sir Wesley?" Harold asked.

Roger blushed. "He's very big and strong."

"Big in a lot of ways," the Prince remarked enigmatically.

"So I've noticed." Roger blushed more. "I mean, you can't miss the fact that he's well-endowed."

"And when he uses the toilet, it's like a flood."

Roger flapped his legs. "That interests you, too? Have you seen him do it?"

"He said we had a lot in common. Do you need the toilet like I do?"

"Probably worse. I can't wait very long."

"Try."

Roger did try, but not long after he said, "I really must use your toilet or I'll wet myself."

"May I watch?" Harold asked.

Roger gasped. "I can't do it when someone is watching."

"Neither can I," the Prince admitted. "But why don't you try."

They walked into the Royal Bath, and the young redhead carefully hid his penis with his hand as he attempted to pee in the toilet. But after a minute, Harold's sympathy overcame his lust and he backed away and said, "You go first," and he went back into the bedchamber. A minute later he took his turn at the toilet.

"It's awful needing to go and not being able to," Roger stated.

"And it's rather exciting to see someone who really has to go."

"There's a page who occasionally attends me at home who seems to have to go a lot. When I see him get all fidgety I have to tell him to go use a toilet."

"Have you ever made him hold it until he wets his pants?" The Prince inquired.

Roger blushed. "I've wanted to, but I've never dared."

"Have you ever watched him use the toilet?"

"I've seen him relieve himself in the bushes, and he doesn't seem to be at all shy about that." Roger blushed more.

"Perhaps you should bring him along the next time you come here."

Chapter Eleven - Bertram

That's exactly what Roger did. The following day, he was accompanied by a slender, dark-haired youth named Bertram, and as the two nobles talked about palace gossip and began a game of chess, they poured him a large goblet of cider and insisted that he drink it. In an hour's time Bertram was squirming in his chair.

"I find your movements distracting," Roger told his page as he was considering his next chess move. The lad's face colored.

"I'm sorry, sire," Bertram said apologetically.

"Is that chair not to your liking?" Harold asked.

"The chair is fine. It's just - it's just that I have a need."

"And what is that?"

"I - I - I need to use the toilet," the lad confessed.

"You don't expect to use mine, do you?" the Prince stated.

"Oh, no, your highness. I don't mind waiting at all." He almost smiled.

"See that you do so without creating a scene," Roger said.

Not many minutes later, the page was squirming and pinching himself again. "Here! Can't you sit still?" Harold asked the lad sternly.

"I'm sorry, your highness," Bertram replied. "It's just that I've waited longer than I usually do."

"You usually wait to make water?"

The page smiled. "Quite often I wait as long as I can."

"Why do you do that?"

Bertram seemed surprised at the question, but then he said, "Because I like to, your highness. That is, until I can't wait any longer. I get punished if I relieve myself in public or in my pants."

"Does that happen often?" Both the Prince and Roger were becoming quite excited.

The page gripped his crotch firmly. "Not anymore, your highness. I've learned about how long I can wait, but I wasn't planning on the cider."

"If I let you use my toilet, may we watch?"

Bertram smiled. "I'd quite enjoy that, your highness."

The three of them went into the Royal Bath and the page took out his penis. It was very large for such a slender lad, circumcised and straight, and he turned so that the others could see it easily.

"My father told me I have the biggest tool in the family," he announced proudly. Then he began to gush into the bowl, though not for a very long time.

Both Roger and Harold were very much aroused, so the redheaded young man said, "I think we should be going now."

"But you'll be back tomorrow, perhaps for a longer time?" the Prince responded.

"I'd be happy to, and I'll bring Bertram with me."

That evening at dinner, Harold asked the King, "Father, now that Billy is no longer living here, could Roger sleep in the anteroom and take his lessons with me?"

"A noble companion would be much more appropriate than that common Billy," Egbert replied. "I have no problem with the arrangement."

Roger was delighted with the invitation, as was Lord Berwick, and early the next morning he moved in. Bertram was assigned space in the servants' quarters. Harold and his new friend attended lessons together, along with a sullen Billy, and then the two nobles dashed to the Royal Apartments to use the toilet before lunch.

Bertram served them in the Great Hall, and by the end of the meal he was fidgeting. Roger and Harold had a few minutes before Sir Wesley's physical training class, so they and the page went to the Prince's bedchamber.

"My Lord," Bertram said at once, pulling furiously at his crotch, "I have waited far too long and I am about to wet myself."

"That might cause some talk among the staff," Roger observed. "You must learn to hold your water."

"My Lord, I held it all during lunch, even though I needed the toilet badly."

"Why didn't you go before then?" Harold asked.

Bertram smiled. "I hoped I could wait, but now I can't."

The two nobles watched Bertram extract his oversized cock and pee furiously into the bowl, and then they noticed that it was time for the knight's class. When Sir Wesley observed the tenting of their trousers he winked and grinned. "It appears that both of you have had some excitement in the past few minutes,"

They blushed.

"Would it have anything to do with that page of yours?" he asked Roger, who blushed all the more.

"Neither of you has many secrets from me," the big knight remarked. "What interests you is harmless enough, so long as no one is forced to do anything against his will."

"Bertram holds his water quite willingly," Roger ventured to say.

"So I've noticed, even though he does it badly. He's watered nearly every tree in the realm when he's been caught short."

The training was held out on the field that day, so they didn't change their clothing, and afterwards they bypassed the showers and went back to the Royal Apartment. "We can bathe and change before dinner," the Prince declared.

As the nobles studied, the page stood quietly awaiting orders, but then he began his familiar fidget.

"Don't tell me you need the toilet again so soon," Roger said to him.

"My Lord, I had a great thirst, and I drank a large amount of water. Perhaps too much," Bertram replied.

"You must wait until I dismiss you, and then you can use the servants' latrine."

"Yes, sire."

But half an hour later, the page was tugging firmly at his crotch. "My Lord," he called out. "I must use the latrine at once."

"You should not have drunk so much water," Harold said to him. "Didn't you know it would cause you to need the toilet?"

"Yes, your highness. But I though I could wait."

"You wanted to be full and then hold it in?"

The page smiled. "Exactly, your highness. That is what I like to do. But I can't hold it in any longer."

"Let me consider the matter."

A few minutes later, despite all his gyrations, Bertram gasped and began to wet his trousers as the two young men watched. Fortunately, he was able to stop the flow before it threatened to drip on the carpet.

"Go to your quarters and change," Roger ordered the lad. "Don't return here, but wait to serve us at dinner."

"That was most exciting to see," the redheaded boy stated as soon as the page left.

"Have you ever wet yourself?" the Prince asked.

"Oh, no, though I've wondered what it would be like."

"I've done it, and it's an interesting experience. Do you need the toilet now?"

"Yes, I do," Roger admitted hesitantly.

"So do I. But let's have some cider and ignore the toilet for a while. I'll lock the door, and no one will see if either of us has an accident."

Within the hour, though neither young man squirmed or pinched, it became clear that they were becoming quite uncomfortable.

"I need the toilet urgently," Harold confessed at last.

"As do I," Roger responded. "It's an odd feeling, not painful, and a bit exciting."

"I'm pretending that the door to the bath is locked, so I simply must hold it in until someone comes with the key."

The redheaded boy pinched his cock. "I can't hold it in much longer."

They moved about in their seats and attempted to continue a conversation, but within minutes the Prince jumped up and pressed the front of his trousers. "Oh! I'm starting to wet myself!"

Roger watched with fascination as his friend's pants darkened, with streamers running down the legs. Perhaps by the power of suggestion, he felt his own crotch grow warm and he leaped from his chair. When the two were done, they laughed.

"It felt so lovely at first," Roger said, "though now my pants are getting cold."

"Mine, too," Harold responded. "Let's bring our clothes into the bath so we can clean ourselves and change. There is ample room in the shower for two."

The redheaded lad was shocked at the idea of being naked in front of the Prince, especially in the confines of a stall, but he couldn't bring himself to say so. Turning his back, he slowly removed his clothes. Harold did likewise.

"On the count of three we both turn around," the Prince declared. "One, two, three!"

They faced each other, and immediately their eyes darted below the waist.

"Why, we seem to be nearly the same size," the Prince remarked. "And both of us have had the skin removed."

"Your member is larger," Roger insisted.

"Not so!" Harold retorted. And then they both laughed.

They were careful not to brush against each other as they showered, but when they got out, they were both sporting partial erections which they attempted to hide with their towels.

"Is yours stiff?" asked the Prince.

"Yes," the other replied, his voice trembling.

They made no further mention of it as they got dressed, and by the time they went down to dinner the phenomenon had subsided. Bertram served them, dancing subtly as they reached the dessert course. Then all three returned to the Royal Apartments.

"What did you have to drink?" Roger asked his squirming page.

"Some lemonade."

"Is that all?"

Bertram squirmed more. "Well, some half-filled goblets of cider went back to the kitchen, so I, er, drank them."

"Then you must suffer the consequences," his master declared. "You may not use the toilet, and you must not wet your pants!"

The page pinched himself and looked surprised. "But Sire, I can't wait all evening."

"You must!"

Within half an hour the lad was tugging hard on his swollen cock. "Please, Sire, I can't hold it in. If you don't let me go I will wet myself."

Not much later, he did. The Prince sent him into the bath and told him to remove his clothing as the two others watched. Although Bertram was not as well-developed and muscular, his genitals were much larger than the nobles'. He clearly enjoyed displaying them. "Would you like to see it when it is hard?" he asked.

Without waiting for an answer, he rubbed his cock until it became a huge, rigid pole pointing slightly upward from his thin body. "I can produce baby seed as well," he stated, and he continued to rub as Harold and Roger stared. When the lad grunted and spat out white gobs, the Prince was sure it wasn't nearly as much as he had produced at times, but it was still an arousing sight.

Harold loaned the page some of his oldest clothes, and then instructed him to wash all the wet things secretly and bring them back to dry. When he was gone, the two nobles talked about what they had just seen.

"Do you ever rub your member to produce seed?" Roger asked.

"Billy called it a cock or a dick or a pecker," the Prince replied. "And yes, I've done it even though I'm not supposed to."

"It feels so wonderfully good, so it can't be that bad."

"I agree,"

"Today was the first time I've ever gone to the toilet in my pants," Roger said.

"Billy called it peeing or pissing. He and did it a few times."

"My mother calls it doing wee."

"I think we should go to our chambers and take care of our, er, cocks, and then get some sleep," the Prince suggested. And they did.

Chapter Twelve - Lasting Relationships

For the next few weeks, Harold and Roger studied their lessons, had physical training with Sir Wesley, watched Bertram perform, and ended most days with solitary masturbation. It was all quite fun, and that didn't escape the knowing eye of the big knight.

"The two of you must have explored the things you have in common by now," Sir Wesley stated one cold afternoon out on the playing field.

"Perhaps much of it," the Prince replied.

"Have you done anything together?"

They two young men blushed. "Together? I'm not sure what you mean."

The knight smiled. "I think you do, but my guess is that you haven't. Not yet. There are things that may be considered innocent adolescent play, such as pee games, or even shooting seed in the privacy of your rooms. Are these the things that have improved your moods of late?"

The two blushed more and nodded.

"Eventually you will want to find more intimate pleasure in each other's bodies, and if you are careful and discreet, there will be no disgrace. My body has been used in nearly every way you might think of, so if you have questions, I may have answers."

Harold frowned. "But someday I must lie with a woman so that I can produce an heir."

"And I can help you manage that when the time comes," the big knight assured him. "It's not far away, you know. The King is already seeking a bride for you."

The Prince shuddered. "I'm not looking forward to that."

"The most difficult part," Sir Wesley continued, "is that both of you must appear as the most manly men in the kingdom, and the closeness of your friendship must remain behind closed doors. Billy has already been sent off, properly rewarded, to a distant part of the realm, and poor Arthur has no memory of what you did with him. Your image is safe, so long as you use caution."

Impulsively, Harold gave the big knight a hug. "You have been more than a friend, and there are not words to express my gratitude."

"I live to serve," the knight said softly.

That night, the Prince said to Roger, "We have showered together and wet ourselves together, and we know what we do when we're alone in our beds. Tonight we should share my bed and perhaps learn more about each other."

Over the week that followed, they progressed from masturbating separately in the Royal Bed, to fondling each other, to spewing their seed in each other's embrace. Outside the bedchamber they were just good friends, but when alone they were much more. They also had great fun when their bladders were overfull, and the faithful Bertram was not only a source of entertainment, but also the one to mop puddles and wash clothing.

Now that the Prince was growing to be a strong, capable man, the King allowed him to ride out from the palace, accompanied only by Roger and perhaps Sir Wesley. Invariably, bladders would become full, and even the big knight would participate in the games that resulted. Harold's days and nights were filled with fun.

Then the Prince was summoned to his father's study.

"My son," Egbert began. "At last I have found a young woman suitable in every way to become your wife. Zelda is the only child of King Walter of Thuringia, and the union of our two kingdoms will be of great benefit to all of us. The heir you beget will rule a vast realm."

That night, Harold wept. "This marriage will be the end of us," he told Roger. "And how can I manage to beget an heir? Women repulse me."

"Sir Wesley will have a solution, I'm sure," his redheaded companion stated with conviction.

Two days later, Princess Zelda arrived with her entourage, after one look the Prince was nearly hysterical. "She's dumpy and homely and not at all desireable," he complained to the big knight. "There is no way I could be her husband."

"I know more about her than most," Sir Wesley said calmly. "In fact, your father couldn't have made a better choice. You may find she's no more excited about this union than you are."

The following morning, Harold entered the private quarters of his mentor knight. In an ornate chair reposed the solid form of Zelda, her face scowling.

"Sit down, your highness," oozed Sir Wesley. "This is the Princess Zelda of Thuringia, your future wife, and we have matters to discuss."

The Princess scowled more. "This is none of my doing. I want no husband, and least of all, you!"

Sir Wesley smiled. "The two of you have more in common than you know. And I believe that each of you can discreetly continue your lives and still make your respective kingdoms happy."

Harold shook his head, and Zelda said, "I doubt that."

"I shall be frank," the big knight said. "Zelda, you are especially fond of your lady-in-waiting, Blanche, and that relationship should continue. Harold, you and Roger should also remain together. The only hurdle is the begetting of an heir."

Both Royals were startled by this statement.

Sir Wesley went on. "Known only to the four of you - and me - the marriage bed may contain more than two. The Royal Seed will be planted, and an heir will ensue. After that, you need not have contact unless you both wish it. It is customary for Kings and Queens to each have their own households and attendants. We can carry on a fine fiction, if you will be discreet."

Harold and Zelda were both attentive.

"You mean, I won't have to be raped by this beast, night after night?" the Princess declared, glaring at Harold.

"You need only submit until you are pregnant," the knight told them, "and that may happen soon if we time it right."

One month later, Harold and Zelda were wed. The ceremony went on all day and involved thousands of loyal subjects. There was feasting and celebrating in both kingdoms. And then came the wedding night.

Harold entered the Royal Bedchamber to find Zelda, Blanche, Roger and Sir Wesley.

The big knight said to Zelda, "You, my dear, are at the best time of the month to conceive, and Blanche will lie with you and make you receptive. Meanwhile, Roger will bring the Prince to the brink, so that one thrust will be all that is necessary."

And so it was. Harold spewed his Royal Seed within Zelda, and several weeks later it was announced that the Princess was with child. On a sunny day in September she was cradling Prince Waldo in her arms. The populace was ecstatic.

As in all good tales, everyone lived happily ever after. Harold and Roger had each other for life, as did Zelda and Blanche. Sir Wesley brought Billy and Bertram into his household to keep them both quiet, yet available for fun. The kingdoms were united, and prosperity reigned.