[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.