In a world ruled by the sword and brute strength, Prince Miro battles his father’s archenemy, King Jai, in single combat. He is soundly defeated. Instead of killing him, King Jai demands the stunningly handsome prince as tribute.
Prince Miro is stripped, cruelly bound, and publicly humiliated in ways he would never have imagined. But what mysterious ‘decorations’ and fate does the King have in store for the prince’s hard cock, firm balls and tight, virginal passages?
This is Book One of ‘The Royal Captive’ series.
READ AN EXCERPT
“Come,” he says, tugging me away by my cock. It is like a new toy he cannot bear to part with.
He leads me to a clearing between the tents. A wooden structure has been erected there, consisting of two vertical beams struck into the ground and a horizontal one connecting their tops. Ropes trail from the opposing ends of the horizontal beam.
Spirus and two other soldiers seize me and drag me to the structure. I gaze at the ropes in dismay as they bind my wrists to them. The soldiers haul the ropes higher so that I’m hanging from my straining arms, and my bare feet are hoisted above the ground. My abdomen contorts as they grab my legs and similarly tie my ankles to the opposing vertical beams. My body is viciously pulled into a taut ‘X’, with my only weight support coming from my bruised and chafed wrists.
Soldiers around us laugh and point at my dangling genitals. I’m beyond caring now. I rest my tired head against the bulging muscles of my right biceps. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see several boys setting up a palatial dais in front of me, and covering it with a tasseled woven carpet that must have hailed from the lands of Araby. They place a broad chair on top of the dais and scatter luxurious cushions upon its seat. A few semi-nude slave girls set a low table before the dais. Silver plates of sweetmeats and goblets of wine are laid upon the table.
Spirus twiddles my cock. In my tethered position, my genitals are at the level of his chest.
“Still limp,” he says with a frown. “King Jai would not like this.”
I’m not surprised. I’m exhausted and my body is wracked with little pains.
My survival is paramount. Sex is the last thing on my mind.
“Maybe he needs some help from your hand, Spirus,” says another soldier with a grin.
Spirus begins to massage my cock. His rough palm squeezes and slides down my shaft and head with hard, rapid strokes. I draw in a sharp breath as blood begins to fill my cock.
The soldiers laugh as Spirus continues to pump my penis with the alacrity of an ironmonger stoking a bellows. Finally, my cock stands erect in all its tumescent glory.
“Beautiful,” Spirus breathes, slapping it so that it bounces several times.
“How long do you reckon it is?” asks a soldier.
An industrious boy servant comes up with a measuring instrument. Spirus holds it against my cock.
“Easily a foot long,” he declares proudly, as though he has grown it himself. “Lovely and thick.”
“Then bind it quickly before it deflates.”
Spirus produces a thin leather strap and circles the base of my cock with it, squeezing it so that my shaft becomes further engorged. He wraps the rest of the strap around my testicles. My genitals are now very prominent, bulging from my groin like swollen fruits.
No comments:
Post a Comment