ONE LONELY KNIGHT
By Larry C. Kephart
Begun September 4, 2006
My father is the King of a small country in Europe. The year is 1583, and the kingdom is in danger of being conquered by a neighboring realm. As the prince and heir, I was constantly overseen and protected by the best of our Knights, Sir Sterling. He was a magnificent specimen of manhood. He was tall and handsome, with muscles bulging from all his daily combat training. He even instructed me in swordplay, for my own self-defense. Speaking of bulges, I especially liked the bulge beneath his tunic. It was so large that any clothing and even the chain mail could not hide the large mound of flesh between his thighs.
As he woke me each morning, his crotch would be at my eye level. It was a trick seeming to rub my eyes of sleep, when I was actually staring at the outline of his cock and balls. I finally looked up into his soft brown eyes and said, “Good Morning Sir Knight.” As a child, he would lift me out of bed and give me a ride on his shoulders to my bath. There he would strip off my bedclothes and gently wash me from head to foot. Some say that he was doing the job of a servant, but as my protector, he would not leave my side for a moment. When I had to evacuate my bladder or bowels, he shared the hole next to me. When he needed a bath, I was able to help wash him. That was such a treat, as I could see his huge log get erect as I washed it. He sometimes moaned as I scrubbed him.
Now that I was finally a young man I felt a strong attraction to my Knight. My loins burned with a desire that I could not hide. Sir Sterling had noticed my early morning erections, and commented that I was getting to be as big as him. I did not get to ride on his shoulders any more, but he still gave me my bath each morning, scrubbing my erect pole until I almost fainted. He dressed me in my princely finery so that I could join my father for breakfast. Sir Sterling was always seated on my right, as I was on the King’s right side. My Uncle was seated to the left of my father, as my mother had died a few years ago.
Uncle Sandor was not happy. He most wanted to take his brother’s place as King of our nation. I suspected that he was secretly communicating with the enemy kingdom about a takeover. I tried to tell my father of my suspicions, but he would not believe that his own brother was capable of such things. Father dismissed my words as the imagination of a youth, with hot blood in his veins. Within a month, the palace was being overrun by the army of our neighbor. My father was killed by Uncle Sandor with a sword in the back. He stole the crown off father’s still warm head. Sir Sterling and I had witnessed my Uncle’s cowardice from the upper hallway. Sir Sterling took me by the hand and rushed me off to a place I had never seen before.
It was a secret passageway, which my father had prepared for just such an escape. No one knew of it but the King himself and Sir Sterling. All who had worked on the pathway were sworn to secrecy on pain of death. After Sir Sterling had me hidden from the invaders, he told me that the King had also suspected the treachery of Uncle Sandor. That is why Uncle Sandor did not know of the escape route. The passageway was built eleven years ago, when I was just eight. All of the men who had built it had died off. None had revealed the secret place to a soul. They were all loyal to the King and me, the Prince and heir to the throne.
When we had traveled the winding depths of the narrow passage, we came to a large room. It was well equipped with all the comforts of my royal bedchamber. There were stores of dried meats, wine, water and fresh fruits and vegetables. Sir Sterling told me that every week servants were blindfolded and carried fresh supplies there for a long stay. No one was allowed to know its location, as a different path was used for each trip. There was a maze of pathways to confuse those who did not know the secrets of the hideaway. We made our way to the bed and sat down. Sir Sterling still had his arms wrapped around my shoulders.
After we had rested from our dash out of harm’s way, Sir Sterling asked me if I was frightened. I told him that I was upset that my father had died and mad that my Uncle had killed him. Sir Sterling held me close and told me, “Your father sacrificed himself to save you.” “He had his own suspicions about Uncle Sandor, and when you told him your suspicions, he made plans accordingly.” He continued to hug and hold me in a protective way that was also comforting. Sir Sterling never showed any weakness. He was always a strong and virile rock. Now, he was caressing my hair and rocking me back and forth like I was a young child. He shushed me, as I was trembling with sadness and rage. I was now alone with my protector.
We fell asleep, still in an embrace. I awoke hours later. I had to release my bladder, and did not see a place to go. I nudged Sir Sterling, who was quite erect in his slumber. I asked him where I could go to piss. He got up and led me to an opening behind a drapery. We went this way and that in the maze, until the potty appeared. I unfastened my belt and pushed my tights and underwear down. Sir Sterling did the same. His cock had not lost any of its rigidity, and he had trouble sitting down. His member would not go into the hole, but kept popping up towards the ceiling. Sir Sterling asked me to excuse him, as he had not come forth in a very long time. I told him that I understood, and had the same problem growing myself.
I reached over to him and grabbed his bone in my palm. Sir Sterling panicked and said, “Please, Sire! It is not proper for me to be touched by royalty in such a manner.” I told him, “We may be killed at any moment by the enemy forces. I have always loved and lusted after you. We may never have the chance again.” “Let me service you, as you have faithfully serviced me.” I begged. I had forgotten all about having to piss. I got up from my hole and knelt in front of Sir Sterling. I placed my lips over his bobbing cock and took in the taste and rich smell of his masculinity.
He was always clean. I knew this from giving him his baths. There was a strong odor of man sweat on him from the run to safety. His skin was taut and yet supple on my tongue. He moaned out, “God forgive me.” He exploded his fluids into my eager throat. It was like honey and milk.
His orgasm lasted several minutes. He was breathing very hard. His chest was heaving up and down. Involuntarily, he let loose with his urine. I still had his member tucked in my gullet, sucking as much as I could. The urine caught me by surprise, but did not taste bad. It was like an ale, having a bitter but sweet taste. I swallowed it all, surprising my Knight all the more. When he was finished, I rose up and kissed him tenderly. Sir Sterling kissed me back with two strong arms wrapped around my back. He hugged and caressed my skin up and down my spine. Sir Sterling confessed, “I have always loved you as well, Sire.” He blurted out, “Having no other duties but being at your side, I was very lonely and frustrated. Seeing your body develop from a skinny youth to a robust man had me taking my plow in hand many times, as you slept.”
I told Sir Sterling that he was my Special Knight. I confessed to him that I had observed him pumping his staff many times. I had wished to join him, but could not because of our different ranks. Now we were equals, one man to one man. A tear formed in Sir Sterling’s eye. He was smiling as he again kissed me. It was the first time I had seen my Knight show any tender emotion. He stood up and knelt before me. He took my still hard shaft and placed it between his tan lips. I had a shockwave go through me as I finally let my urine escape. Sir Sterling drank it all without flinching. He kept on sucking me for several more minutes. I was now on the verge of giving him my own honey and milk. His hand had been rubbing my bare buns, and one of his fingers found its way to my sphincter. He jabbed it in and found my prostate. A few touches on my tender spot brought me to a huge climax. My spunk was accepted as a treasure to be savored.
When we had adjusted our clothes, we headed back to the safety of the hidden room. Somewhere in the maze, Sir Sterling had forgotten his bearings. We were lost! He led me this way and that. Most of the time, we came to a dead end. After about an hour, we came to a passage that had a spec of light beaming in. There was a door that led to the outside. Sir Sterling pushed the heavy stone door aside, letting us breathe fresh air. There we saw the battlefield. It was strewn with our enemies’ bodies. Sir Sterling told me that my father had made allies with two other kingdoms, who rallied to his aid against the invaders. Too bad he died before the victory was won. I was to be crowned the new King.
My Uncle was taken prisoner, and severely tortured in the public square. He was a traitor to his countrymen and King. He would have been put to death, but the people wanted him to suffer more than that. He was chained to a pillar in the dungeon, and any man or woman who wanted to, could use him for a sexual vessel, making sure that they beat him first. His teeth were all pulled out, so he could not bite the men he was sucking. His genitals were bound in a metal cage so that if he became hard, it would hurt him a great deal. His ass was constantly stuffed with cocks and fists. His mouth and face were targets for piss and feces. Uncle Sandor managed to survive this for seven years.
As for me, my coronation was a treat. Sir Sterling placed the crown on my head, proclaiming me as King Phillip. Sir Sterling was all dressed in his shiniest armor. He looked elegant as I then proclaimed him as my personal Regent. He was to be second in command only to me. My father was buried with great honors and fanfare, next to the Queen. He will always be remembered as King Tandor, the noble.
After the kingdom was restored, I thanked the ally Kings with some of my lands, lots of gold and many horses. It was good to be King. Regent Sterling was still at my right hand, advising me on important matters of state. When we were alone, he gave me personal advice in the way of his monstrous cock. He told me, “A King is not a King without a staff.” He gave me his staff daily and nightly. We still give each other baths, and rub the loneliness away in our secret room.