This story takes place almost two hundred years into the future. Things are quite different. Homosexual sex is a norm. So if you are under age or if explicit "abnormal" sexual activity is abhorrent to you, please read no further.
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Copyright 2015 by Macout Mann. All rights reserved.
THE THIRD EMPIRE
by Macout Mann
XIV
Military training is going well, and after six weeks the men get their first weekend liberty. Most go to London, but Olafus, Flavius, and Lucius head for Heathrow Airdrome, where an old-fashioned jet is waiting to make the short hop to Oslo. Once there, vehicles are waiting to whisk Olafus to the palace and the other two boys to Oscarshall. Lucius had become a ward of Quintus, once he was made an intern.
The boys meet with Quintus and Flavius mother, both of whom are anxious to find out how the training has gone thus far.
"You and Olafus have become very close, I assume," Quintus says to Flavius. ("Being very close" has become a euphemism for "Having sex.")
"Oh yes," Quintus says. "He's very close to Lucius too."
"We're all encouraged to be close," Lucius adds. "It's supposed to build unit cohesion."
"I can see how that would be," Quintus says. He adds that the king has invited them for dinner tomorrow.
Flavius and Lucius spend most of the next day exploring Oslo, a fascinating city dating back to around 1000 AD. Then they accompany Quintus to the palace, where they meet the king and are introduced to Count Albinius Krag, a handsome twenty-nine-year-old nobleman. (Although the Storting had eliminated Norwegian titles of nobility in 1821, the empire had restored them planetwide.)
They are escorted to a private dining room, where they feast on Leek Soup, Smoked Salmon with Dill Sauce, Steamed and Buttered New Potatoes, Creamed Cabbage, and for dessert, Cloudberries and Whipped Cream.
The conversation is wide ranging. The king comments that after a century of empire rule that the whole world seems better off than before. "There is finally `peace on earth,'" he comments.
After dessert the fun begins. Flavius is paired with the king, Olafus with Quintus, and Lucius with Count Albinius.
King Herald is in his mid-forties but still makes a virile and passionate partner for Flavius. They quickly undress and the king's hands roam all over the eighteen-year-old's torso. Flavius reciprocates.
"You have a wonderful body. I love the feel of young flesh. I wish I were still young," the king muses.
"You sure have a great bod, your majesty," Flavius responds.
"Well, mostly what I do is make public appearances, so I have lots of time to work out," the king says.
On the other side of the table a naked Lucius is being embraced by Albinius. "You have a much darker complexion than your brother. Have you spent more time in the sun?"
"No," Lucius answers, "Flavius is not my brother. I am only a ward of the governor general, a simple peasant really. But they have been wonderful to me."
"And I'm sure you've been wonderful to them. And I hope you'll use that tool to be wonderful to me."
Olafus tells Quintus, "My father has told me that you and he make each other very happy. I hope I can do the same for you. I think Flavius and I have developed a great relationship."
Protocol dictates that the king decide who does what. He says, "Flavius, I want to feel you in my ass. Let me get you ready."
He goes down on Flavius' hard stick, brings it to its full size and moistens it for easy entry. "Take me in one stroke," the king commands.
Flavius obeys. His bristly pubes scrape the royal cheeks and he begins to rhythmically pump his shaft in and out.
"Ugh," the king grunts, then adds, "So nice. I'm glad you and Olafus can be close."
Flavius has come prepared. In fact all three of the boys have sucked each other off earlier in the day so they can provide long term stimulation to their dinner partners. After almost ten minutes, the king pants, "I want to feel your ejaculation."
Flavius accelerates his movements, driving in his dick faster and faster and with shorter and shorter strokes, until he blasts rope after rope of hot cum into the king's appreciative asshole.
"That was marvelous, Flavius," the king purrs. "I'm sure you will be a favorite of your superior officers next year, when you are assigned to a regular military unit.
"I just love to be with you younger men," he continues. "Makes me feel young again myself. I hope to be with your friend, Lucius before you return to Britain. I've never been with an Hispanic before.
"May I have you now?"
Across the table Quintus is telling Olafus that he understands his son's fondness for the crown prince, and Albinius relishes Lucius' fervor.
Before the evening is over Lucius and Flavius change positions so that the king has a chance to savor the body of a youngster of Hispanic extraction. Albinius and Flavius also connect.
"Son or ward," Albinius chuckles, "I'll take either of you."
"You're not so bad either," Flavius retorts.
Meanwhile, twenty-two hundred miles to the south, a group of men are giving the lie to the king's earlier statement about there being peace on earth.
The Third Great War unlike its two predecessors sprang from religious differences. The empire had tried to eliminate these by its recognition of The Church of the Eternal Godhead. It felt that by incorporating the teachings of Mohammed, Budda, and other religious figures into its dogma along with the Judeao-Christian doctrines--after all, it felt, morality is morality wherever you find it--it might bring all cultures under its umbrella. To a great extent it has succeeded.
Especially younger members of all faiths have found a home in the Eternal Church, even Hassidic Jews. No one has been forced to forsake their beliefs, however, so even in 2191 there are pockets of Shintos in Japan that hold that their emperor is divine, older Jews that cleave to Orthodox practice, fundamentalist Christians, especially in the Southern American States, who hold that despite all the evidence gathered from the Mars explorations, life originated on earth in seven calendar days. The Middle East, however, is the place where the old religion is the strongest. Despite the destruction of Mecca and the Dome of the Rock during the war and the empire's later excavations, which have uncovered nothing of religious significance in either place, there are those who continue to hold on to the same beliefs and animosities that led to the war almost a century and a half ago.
The Arab tribal ethos still dominates. The culture of shame which discourages a son from becoming more successful or better educated than his father still prevails. So the educational and social policies of the empire have not found the success in the Middle East that they have in most other parts of the planet. The result is that the governmental structure of the Arab world has become much more totalitarian than elsewhere, bringing with it more unrest.
In Jordan, which is now part of what the empire has designated "Greater Israel," six conspirators plot even now. Their aim is certainly not to overthrow the empire. They wish only to terrorize, to upset the placidity of the world order.
"An attack on Jerusalem! Easy. Nearby. The prophet--Peace be upon Him--would surely approve." Aswad is hot to go.
"No," Faruq responds. "A place like Paris. We need to make a big impact."
"Be real," Yousef, the leader of the group, interjects. "Hit Jerusalem and they'd think it was a religious onslaught. They wouldn't really give a damn, but they would start looking for Muslims right away. Hit someplace like Paris, London, Tokyo, they'd panic and bring the force of the whole empire down on anyone who'd ever said the emperor wasn't god."
"I've been studying Northern Europe," Faruq chimes in. "Norway is important but not a France or a Britain. Its monarch is a figure head, but still head of state. He's not well protected, like say the British king is. Oslo is an open city. What do you say about that?"