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The Royal Prisoner
Chapter 14
"Good morning, Your Highness!" Fatiah loudly said while pushing her tray inside the prince's bedroom. Victor opened his eyes slowly and stretched his muscles. He was wearing a white cotton short and during the night he had pushed the blanked aside because of the heat. Fatiah opened the curtains and the room was suddenly brightened. The prince swiftly buried his head in a pillow while groaning because of the unbearable sunlight.
"My son prepared you a special concoction for you this morning, Your Highness. It will help you recover from the drinks you had yesterday!" Fatiah announced while reorganising her tray and putting the breakfast together.
"Hmm... Thank you Fatiah. What time is it?" the prince asked with a cracking and hoarse morning voice.
"It is barely 9am, Your Highness. Lieutenant Timond is waiting for you downstairs." The woman answered while offering the prince a glass of the special concoction made for his hungover.
"Thank you," the prince said before gulping the concoction, the taste was unusual but certainly not unpleasant. "could you please ask the lieutenant to meet me here? I think I need to stay in bed for another few minutes."
"Yes, Your Highness" Fatiah nodded before leaving the bedroom. Victor devoured his breakfast with an appetite, but his head was aching, and the luminosity of the bedroom felt too intense for him to bear. After a few minutes, Paul knocked at the door and entered the bedroom.
"Good morning, Your Highness." Paul said while sitting on the edge of the prince's bed. "Apparently someone had a pleasant evening yesterday?" he chuckled.
"Uh... I might have, yes. But you would not be so prompt to judge me if you had tasted Walid's cocktail. And he was the one to prepare me a concoction to help me with my hangover this morning, this boy is a keeper!" the prince laughed. "Paul, could I ask you to draw the curtains? I am really struggling here."
"Well! I would not know about Walid's cocktails; I don't drink alcohol!" Paul answered while getting up and drawing the curtains.
"You don't?" Victor exclaimed, baffled.
"No I don't. My parents are Muslims, and even though I am not I never drank, out of respect for their beliefs, I guess. I'm not really sure actually. I just didn't" Paul explained. He glanced at the prince that looked back at him confused. That made Paul laugh wholeheartedly. "Anyway, how are you doing here? You are not too bored?" he eventually asked.
"No actually I really like it! I wish I had been sent here from the beginning. I don't like living with the officers quite that much, except for you of course!" the prince teased.
"Well that's understandable! I brought you a swimsuit! I have been told you needed one." Paul announced with a smile.
"Do you want some? I am not going to get through it, I think my cook is trying to fatten me up!" the prince proposed to his lieutenant while pointing at his copious breakfast. Paul shrugged his shoulders and picked an Arabic pastry from the tray. "If anyone asks you can say you are my designated taster!" Victor teased.
"I am not sure I would be a very efficient one, considering I taste your food after you already ate most of it." Paul commented, both laughing and giggling. Suddenly someone knocked at the door, interrupting the laughs, and Alexandre came in. He seemed surprised to witness the scene in front of him but quickly regained his composure.
"Good morning, Your Highness. His Royal Highness, the Prince Muhammad of Arabia, announced that he wished to have lunch with you here, he is to arrive around 11am." Alexandre declared, dropping the casual tone he used when Victor and he were alone.
"Thank you, Alexandre. Lieutenant, this is Alexandre, my valet here. Prince Muhammad was kind enough to lend us some of his best employees to attend me." Victor lied, smiling to both Paul and Alexandre politely.
"Oh! I see. Thank you very much Alexandre!" Paul then said scrutinizing the footman. Alexandre nodded respectfully and left the bedroom.
"I find it a bit strange that Prince Muhammad employs Corsicans in his staff." the lieutenant then remarked.
"Uh... Speaking of, can I ask you if you have seen the boy that served me in Jerusalem since I left? You know, the red-haired one." Victor both changed the subject and was genuinely worried about Sasha.
"Hum Yes, I saw him. I'm not sure where though. Oh! Yes, I remember! He has been joint to General Ciabrini's personnel now. I saw him when I did my last report." Paul answered.
"He works for Hadrien's... Uh... I mean, General Ciabrini's..." Victor answered a bit too spontaneously as Paul frowned his eyebrows and took a disapproving's expression.
"You should really be careful! I know you hate protocolary relations, but you know it might get you into trouble!" Paul lectured with a fatherly tone.
"I know, sorry... It just slipped; I did not mean to." Victor apologised, blushing embarrassingly.
"I do not mind. You know I don't. But others would, I am saying that for your own sake." Paul explained. "Well anyway, I am going to inspect the guards here and then I will be on my way back to Jerusalem."
"You are not even having lunch with me?" the prince asked shyly, sounding disappointed.
"You mean with you and Prince Muhammad, surely?" the lieutenant empathized while raising his eyebrows.
"Oh, yes. I already forgot! I probably should not drink that much" the prince answered chuckling. Paul smiled back at him and shook his head in disbelief.
"See you tomorrow then!" the lieutenant exclaimed as he stood up. He stole one more pastry from the tray and walked away as he engulfed it.
Since he arrived in Jerusalem a couple of days earlier, the prince was constantly feeling horny. A prince's life was not suited for intimacy, so Victor was used to suppressing his urges and restrained from having a wank to when he was not absolutely sure he would not be disturbed, which was very rarely. Oddly, however, today he did not care and shamelessly grabbed his chubbing-up cock through his underwear.
Victor sighed while massaging his crotch and closed his eyes. He raised his butt and took his underwear off. Slowly he stroked his cock and fondled his ballsack. He opened his eyes and noticed the precum oozing from his cock. He rubbed his index around his urethra and moaned softly. He then opened his mouth and sucked his precum from his index. He liked the taste, but most of all he liked the idea. He kept stroking his cock, rolling his foreskin back and forth. His left hand stopped fondling his balls and he reached further until his fingertips met his tight hole. He stroked his cock even harder as his left hand was now rubbing against his smooth hole.
The prince was so horny from his seduction game with Alexandre that he was already close. Suddenly, as his balls contracted, someone knocked at the door and opened straight away. Cyril, the seventeen years old Persian domestic, entered the bedroom and immediately caught the sight of the prince, spasming as he was ejaculating all over his chest, heavily breathing and moaning. The Persian boy was so taken aback that he froze, looking directly at the prince's spectacular orgasm. After a few seconds he came back to his senses and looked away shamefully.
"Oh! I am so sorry, Your Highness. I did not mean to interrupt. I will come back later!" Cyril stuttered, embarrassed beyond belief.
"Is that my swimsuit?" the prince asked, designating the folded piece of cloth Cyril was carrying with him.
"Yes, Your Highness. Monsieur Alexandre told me that you requested it." the Persian boy explained. Victor got off the bed and walked, naked, to the servant holding his swimsuit. Cyril was baffled, the sight of the standing prince in all his glory, his cum covered chest, his hard cock dripping semen on the floor, it was all so shocking to him. The servant blushed intensely and did not know how he was expected to react, after all such a situation was never mentioned when he was formed to be a servant. Prince Muhammad was definitely more modest than Prince Victor, he thought.
"Could you grab me a towel in the bathroom, please?" the prince asked with a smirk. The servant reacted immediately and rushed to the bathroom. So that was what he was expected to do in these situations, he thought to himself. Cyril never dealt with Corsicans before Victor, and he thought that this kind of behaviour was perhaps normal in their culture. After all, westerners were definitely known for their much more liberal customs. He came back from the bathroom and gave the prince the towel he requested.
Victor meticulously wiped his cum off his chest, cock and hand. He enjoyed standing naked in front of a stranger immensely. His newly found lust for shameless exhibitionism drove him to behave in a way he would never have believed a few weeks ago. When all the remaining cum was successfully wiped he grabbed the swimsuit and pulled it on. The swimsuit was a navy blue short with a white elastic waistband. It fitted, but it was tight. The prince's bubble butt was highlighted, and his bulge was obvious. Even though it probably was not Paul's intention, he quite liked the fact that the swimsuit looked so slutty.
"Thank you very much!" the prince told the Persian boy. "I'm done with breakfast, you can have a pastry or two before taking the tray, but don't let the others catch you!" Victor added, winking and taping the servant's shoulder before leaving the bedroom wearing only his swimsuit.
The prince passed by his guards and domestics that all saluted him, he thought that Alexandre might have told them that they were not expected to bow since everyone stopped doing that altogether when he arrived in the villa. He walked straight to the pool; it was still early but the weather was already quite warm.
Victor jumped in the pool. The water was particularly cool this morning but the prince enjoyed the feeling on his warm skin, much like quenching. Victor did some laps, stretching and waking his muscles up. After a while enjoying the pool the prince laid on a deckchair and relaxed. Walid offered the prince a freshly pressed fruit cocktail and Victor sipped the delicious beverage with his shades on. The prince flipped and rolled on his belly, exposing his back to the rising sun.
Still rather tired from the past evening, the prince dozed off and fell asleep on the deckchair. Losing track of time he woke up to Alexandre shaking his shoulder slightly.
"Your Highness?" the bodyguard called.
"Hm?" the prince vaguely answered.
"You are going to get sunburnt; you should get inside! Or at least put on some sunscreen." Alexandre said with a concerned expression.
"Hmm... I think I will be okay really." Victor brushed off with a hoarse voice. Alexandre stared at the prince with a disapproving fatherly look that meant it was not up for negotiations. Even though Victor was technically his employer and therefore was under no obligation to obey, he still deeply respected Alexandre's authority and considered him as a substitute father.
"Fine, can I have some sunscreen then?" the prince asked with a boyish voice. His bodyguard nodded and disappeared inside the house. The prince spotted Walid and his mother dressing up the table inside and called for Walid. The young servant noticed someone was calling him but did not quite know where from, his mother pointed the deckchair outside, and Walid hurried up outside.
"You called me, Your Highness?" the boy asked politely.
"Do you think you could do another of your magic fruits cocktail? And maybe this time with a little extra?" The prince requested, lowering his shades and winking to the servant.
"Of course, Your Highness!" Walid answered.
"Oh and also," the prince added "Could you let your mother know we are going to have lunch outside? Nothing too formal please, Muhammad and I are good friends after all!" Walid nodded and went back inside. A few seconds later Cyril, the Persian boy that witnessed Victor's ejaculation, went out carrying a bottle of sunscreen.
"Monsieur Alexandre said you needed sunscreen, Your Highness?" the boy sheepishly wondered.
"Apparently I do!" Victor answered lazily.
" Do you need me to put it on you, Your Highness?" Cyril wondered confused.
"Hmm." The prince mumbled his approval. The servant approached the prince and goofily kneeled next to the deckchair, clearly nervous about executing unusual tasks for his new master.
"Sit on my butt, that will be more practical!" Victor instructed to help the servant. Cyril stood up and hesitantly sat on Victor's bubble butt. The pressure the servant applied while sitting on the prince's butt made Victor's cock rub slightly against the deckchair and he could feel it slowly hardening. The Persian boy poured the sunscreen in his hand and started spreading it.
As soon as Cyril's hand met the prince's boiling skin Victor felt the servant's delicate fingertips digging into him. the prince melted in pleasure; it had been so long he had not been massaged. Rubbing the sunscreen over Victor's shoulder, the servant relaxed the prince's sore muscles delicately. Victor inadvertently let escaped a moan, but far from disturbing Cyril it encouraged him to apply himself. All his muscles around the spine were kneaded like dough and Victor had a raging boner.
Despite the fact that the sunscreen had been successfully applied all over the prince's back, Cyril kept massaging him. Victor was almost drooling with orgasmic pleasure. His whole body was fully relaxed and he was almost falling asleep again.
"Well well! It looks like someone is enjoying himself here!" A familiar voice declared.
"Muhammad? Is it lunch time already? Gosh I truly lost track of time!" Victor exclaimed. Cyril froze and looked at Prince Muhammad, his master, unsure if what he was doing would be considered `wrong'.
"Actually, I am early. I would have been late if I went to my appointment therefore, I cancelled!" he explained. "Is Cyril any good at massage?" Muhammad inquired, curious.
"You would not believe how incredibly talented he is! Oh my god thank you Cyril!" The prince answered enthusiastically. Muhammad glanced at Cyril with an amused smile.
"Well, I will definitely remember that!" the Arabic prince laughed. As he said that, Walid walked to the prince carrying the cocktail Victor requested. "Oh! I will have the same as this one. Come on, Cyril, get off His Highness so he can enjoy his cocktail with me on the sofa!" Muhammad commanded. The Persian boy stood up and bowed to Prince Muhammad before taking his leave. Victor, however, stayed on the deckchair and did not move.
"I think I will have to wait, just one minute." Victor declared.
"Ah, I wish I knew that Cyril was that good with massage before. I would have kept him for myself!" Muhammad teased. Victor eventually got off the deckchair, his cock still semi hard. Muhammad then fully realised how revealing the tight swimsuit was and how indecently bulged Victor's crotch was. He tried to contain himself but ended up bursting into laughter.
"Stop! You mean monster!" Victor pleaded, half amused, half turned on. He eventually grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his waist. He then rushed to the wooden chair outside and sat at the marble and glass table that had been dressed for lunch. "Where is my cocktail?" the prince then wondered.
"I think your barman took it inside to put it in the fridge while he did mine." Muhammad answered while sitting at the table with the prince.
"Oh, I thought you did not drink alcohol actually." Victor said, matter-of-factly. Muhammad's eyes grew wide with surprise.
"Alcohol? I thought it was only a fruit cocktail! You are so naughty; it is not even noon for goodness sake!" the Arabic prince exclaimed shocked. "And yes, I drink alcohol even though I am not officially allowed to."
"Well then I am positive you will love my personalised cocktails! Walid is quite the magician you know." Victor announced with a grin.
"Look at you, young, handsome, innocent looking boy with the most elegant manners. Not even eighteen yet. But deep down you are a little devil ready to devour whoever is naïve enough to be deceived." Muhammad portrayed. "I have to admit I quite like it!" he added with a smirk before winking to Victor.
Inside the ancient city of Jerusalem, a car was fast approaching the General Quarter of the Rebel army in the Middle East. Quickly the pedestrians wandering in the streets made way as the motorbikes ahead of the car honked furiously.
Eventually the large Sedan car parked in front of the hotel that served as General Quarter where a small group of military officers waited patiently. A soldier opened the passenger door and a tall man with greyish hair got out of the car. The Earl of Ulmetu was a fifty-six years old politician. Before the civil war he was a senator, but he fled Corsica to support the Rebellion against Hector III.
"General Ciabrini, I am quite pleased to see you!" He warmly declared while extending his hand.
"Welcome to Jerusalem Lord Mondoloni" Hadrien answered. "I hope you had a pleasant journey"
"Well, quite a journey it is from Italy indeed. However, the Supreme General insisted, and I believe that this treaty will seal our upcoming final victory!" The Earl enthusiastically predicted.
"And we shall celebrate it together in Corsica!" The general added with a broad smile. "Now come inside, you must be starving."
"Well, I am mostly thirsty really." He answered while following the General inside the hotel. "But yes, I suppose I could eat."
"I hope you enjoy middle eastern cuisine then" Hadrien commented in a more serious tone. "Our supply lines from Europe have been cut short since the raid on Spain. And that's not only food, but also weapons, ammunitions, and troops"
"Yes, I am well aware of the situation General." The Earl answered as they sat in the large hotel reception room. "Is everything ready for tomorrow?" He asked once sitting in a large armchair.
"Yes, though it was not easy, as you can imagine" Hadrien confessed.
"Is the boy ready as well?" The Earl wondered. Hadrien avoided making eye contact with the Earl and kept silent for a few seconds.
"Well, He does not know yet, and we think it is not safe to warn him beforehand." The general confessed.
"Really? Let us hope we did not turn a blind eye on your `personal bond' with the prince for no reason at all." The Earl warned. Hadrien glanced at him with disbelief. "Oh, my apologies. You thought your little secrets were safe from us?" He added with an evil grin. "I am sure you will find a way to convince the boy" He concluded in front of an overly embarrassed Hadrien. "Where is he anyway?"
"I deemed safe to send him away from the city centre after the raid in Jaffa. He stays in a villa not far from here" The general explained, uncomfortable.
"I see." He simply commented while Sasha entered the room holding a tray with their drinks. Hadrien glanced at the servant and they exchanged looks before Sasha shyly looked away, blushing. "I suppose you know what's planned for the prince anyway." The Earl said while grabbing his glass of wine.
"Yes, I know." Hadrien glumly answered, lost in his thoughts.