The following is my contribution to the Triple Poll Story. Of course, this story is entirely fictional and the character of Prince William is completely made up. Readers should be over the age of 18 or 21, depending on where you live. To the extent practicable, copyright is claimed by the author and the ASSGM and Nifty Archives are granted the revocable right to archive this story.
The Prince and the Pauper, 2001 Edition by JT Michcock
William of Wales crinkled his nose at the scene outside the chaffered Bentley. The protester had been anticipating his arrival for quite some time now and were queued up as usual. The signs they brought told the story; these were farmers angered by the loss of their livelihood due to foot and mouth disease. And here he was, sporting an Italian made suit, arriving with his usual entourage.
The young Prince of Wales sighed as the limousine came to a halt at the front of the farm house. Since reaching the age of 18, William had increasingly been called upon to perform more royal duties on behalf of the "firm." This visit to Cotswold, on one of the warmest July days Britain had ever seen, was intended to be a morale booster.
"Your highness," said Mr. Lederer, his chief handler, "you're here to visit Mr. Harold Spencer and his family."
"Spencer?" asked William, his brow furrowed, "are they any relation to me?"
"Sixth cousins to you mother, I believe," responded Lederer. "Quite distantly related."
William pursed his lips. "Well, let's go in," he said finally.
With that, his entourage went into motion and William soon found himself outside the vehicle with the throng being barely held in check by his security detail. The people waiting outside appeared quite upset with the royal visitor and appeared exhausted from the heat of the noontime sun. William wasn't at all surprised at the reception given their circumstances. With a sigh, he plunged through the corridor created by the police and headed into the waiting farmhouse.
William ducked through the door of the cottage. The architect of the small ancient dwelling obviously did not contemplate having the Prince's 6'2" frame coming through the entrance. On the other side of the door, William was greeted by a heavyset middle-aged man of about 50. The man was a good half-foot shorter than the Prince, and bore an uncanny resemblance to William's grandfather, the Earl Spencer.
"Your highness," said the man extending his hand with a smile and bowing slightly, "welcome to our home. I'm Harold Spencer." Mr. Spencer was dressed in work clothes befitting a farmer. William noticed that Harold's grip was rough hewn and strong, a man who had worked this land.
"Very pleased to be here sir," said William. The Prince noticed that the farmer was eyeing his expensive suit.
"When I told your father I would have you work the farm today, I expected you to be addressed more appropriately," Harold said.
"I have my work clothes with my luggage," explained William, pointing to the bags being carried in by Lederer.
"Well, fine," said the farmer, "I'll get my son to show you to where you can change."
"Arthur!" yelled Spencer up the staircase. "Got a little surprise for you, young man," he said turning to the prince and winking.
William heard the lumbering of footsteps on the stairs. The next thing he heard was Mr. Lederer dropping his bags on the floor. As William turned his attention back to the stairway, his mouth flew open as he realized his valet's surprise.
Standing in front of William was the spitting image of himself.
"Arthur," said Spencer to the young man, "I'd like you to show our guest up to his room where he can change."
Arthur smiled and William thought for a second that he'd opened a tabloid. It was his smile!
"Pleased to meet you, your highness," said Arthur, extending his hand to the prince. The young man had a firm grip and William immediately noticed that it was a hand that had experienced farm labor. Arthur was dressed the part too, plain brown shirt and pants.
"Good to meet you too. . . Arthur," said the prince awkwardly, managing to close his mouth.
"Pretty remarkable, eh, sir?" said Spencer. "Born just a week after you sir."
William managed to nod his head as he stared into the eyes of the boy who looked just like him. "Quite remarkable," whispered William.
"Let me show you to your room, sir," said Arthur, releasing the grip. His voice was similar to William's but lacking the aristocratic accent. It was the rural flavor adopted here in the Cotswolds.
Arthur turned and headed up the stairs. William quickly grabbed his suitcase from Mr. Lederer, whose own mouth had yet to completely close, and bounded up the steps. "Don't call me sir, if you'd please, I just William."
"Righty, mate," responded the boy, "and call me Artie."
William soon joined Arthur in a small bedroom, a pair of bunk beds across one side and a small dresser and chair in the other.
"You've got the bottom bunk," announced Arthur as he directed William to place his suitcase on the chair. "We're supposed to be moving hay piles this afternoon, so the sooner you get ready, the better."
"Um," said William, biting his lower lip and still somewhat taken aback, "has anyone ever mentioned to you that you look a lot like me?"
Arthur turned and grinned, "all the time, mate.
"They say everyone has a double in the world, and I guess you're mine."
"Or you're mine," added William, returning the grin.
"Anyway, let's get you out of that fancy suit and into some real work clothes," said Arthur, gesturing toward the suitcase.
"Probably a good idea," thought William, who began removing his suit and placing them carefully on a hanger. He couldn't help but notice that Arthur seemed to be watching him very closely, perhaps checking for more than the facial resemblance. As William got down to his undershorts, Arthur stopped him.
"Hay!" he said, "looks like we've got the same taste in undershorts." With this, the bot stood up and showed the waistband of the Calvin Kleins he was wearing.
William looked over and smirked and proceeded to dress in the appropriate work clothes. When he was finished, Arthur led him downstairs to the farm buildings at the rear of the house.
William received a quick tour of the premises. "This is where we keep the horses," said Arthur, showing a stable filled with a dozen chestnut colts and mares.
"Over here," continued Arthur, bringing William over to another barn building, "is where the cows used to be."
Arthur turned and looked at William grimly, "hoof and mouth," he explained. The prince nodded his understanding, bowing his head thinking about how the disease devastate the local community.
"Part of what we're doing today will be hauling the cattle feed from the cow barn into the horse bar," said Arthur, pointing toward the burlap sacks piled in the barn, "we're trying to salvage as much as we can and not waste any feed."
Arthur went into the cow barn and removed his shirt. William came in after and, not wanting to seem out of place removed his own, both boys placing them on pegs in the wall.
"Too damn hot for this," grumbled Arthur as he picked up the wheelbarrow and moved it to the pile. William likewise picked up an adjacent wheelbarrow and went over to the pile.
The work was arduous and tiring . Each fifty pond sack - and there seemed to be hundreds to William - contained fifty ponds of feed. Although the wheelbarrow helped with transport, the boys would have to lug the sacks and plop them in the wheelbarrow and, at the end of the trip, would have to empty and stack them in the horse barn.
The summer sun beat down on both boys as the afternoon progressed, sweat streaming off their bodies. Both bore tans that bronzed their young bodies, but the sources were entirely different. William obtained his tan luxuriating in Africa on a recent study vacation while Arthur's came as a result of working every day on the farm.
Slowly and mostly in silence, the boys trudged on as the sun began to set. For the most part, Arthur said little to the prince although he did seem to be keeping an eye on his future king. call from the back door emerged around six in the evening to which Arthur responded. It was dinner time.
A small table had been set up for the picnic. William and Arthur, neither bothering to put their shirts back on, went to the table to find that Arthur's father had put on a huge spread. Cold fried chicken was the specialty along with ample servings of pasta, fresh fruit and vegetables and a cobbler for desert. Both boys, exhausted and famished, ate well despite Mr. Spencer's admonition that they slow down.
During the meal, William had a chance to get acquainted with his hosts. Like himself, Arthur had lost his own mother, who had fallen victim to cancer some years before. He had often been the butt of jokes in school owing to his resemblance to the prince and had even dyed his hair black on one occasion to avoid the stares. But he had grown used to it. Like William, Arthur was also left-handed.
"Are you going to university?" asked William.
"Well, I was supposed to," answered Arthur, "but the tumult with the disease and everything has put that on hold."
William grimaced. As he looked around his surroundings, he realized that these people had endured a far more difficult life than he had. Still, William envied his companion, he longed to be out and about and appreciated the simplicity of farm life.
After the meal was concluded, the boys returned to their task of moving feed stocks. With the daylight waning, the last of the sacks were finally arranged in the horse barn. Arthur beckoned back to the cow barn and William followed, to be led to one of the stalls.
"Look at this," said Arthur, "I want you to see this." There was a small sign on one of the chains to a pen. "Artemis" the sign read.
"I got to deliver her last year," explained Arthur, smiling. "Dad was in town and the phones were out, so I couldn't get the vet. I ended up helping her mother with the birth. My dad named her after me."
William smiled. "You must be very proud of her."
"I was," whispered Arthur. He turned toward William and the prince could see his companion's eyes begin to cloud.
The next thing William knew, he and Arthur were locked in an embrace. No one could remember who had begun it, but the prince had his mouth fastened to the farm boy's lips. The exhaustion both youth's felt was soon replaced by the heat of passion.
The youths passionately caressed each other's bodies, their bare chests meeting and the masculine smell of each other's sweat poring onto the other.
Soon, both boys were on the floor of the barn, their bodies furiously rubbing against each other. Arthur was on top and broke away first. He lifted himself off the prince and looked deeply into his eyes. The farm boy looked down and looked back up for William's approval. William nodded slightly and then felt the zipper being pulled down on his corduroys.
Arthur moved lower and soon had his head pressed against the prince's crotch. Lifting William's butt slightly, Arthur soon had the boy's trousers and undershorts removed. William gasped as he felt the first tentative licks on his foreskin. Arthur soon buried his face into the prince's crotch, bringing the full length of the hardened tool into his mouth.
"Swing around," William whispered lustily. Arthur complied and soon found William's mouth attached to his own crotch and the scent of each other's manhood filling their nostrils.
For a long time, the boys greedily sucked on each other's shafts. As the moaning became more intense they moved the spit soaked shafts into each other's hands and brought each other to completion.
Their seed spent, the boys returned to their embrace, smothering each other with kisses as their youthful bodies were covered by the grime and hay that covered the barn floor.
After a while, the kissing slowed. Night had fallen outside and an owl could be hear somewhere in the distance.
"We need to go inside now," whispered Arthur. William nodded knowingly.
The boys arose and, as best as they could attempted to wipe the debris off each other's bodies. As they did so, they unashamedly gawked at each other, their sweat soaked bodies glistening in the moonlight.
William began to dress when Arthur stopped him. "Hey there," he said, as William had his shorts half way up. "I think those are my skivvies."
William looked down at the shorts and, sure enough, although the color was the same, Arthur's undershorts had a slightly different cut. William looked up at Arthur and, almost at the same time, both boys smiled at each other. It was as though they could read each other's minds.
As though to confirm their non-verbal understanding, William continued to pull up the underpants. Likewise, Arthur put on the prince's shorts and the rest of his clothing. Smiling, both boys walked back into the house.
"Ever read Mark Twain?" asked Arthur.
"Of course," responded William.
Both boys smiled at each other knowing that their lives were about to change come the morning.
THE END