The Prince and the Pleasurehouse

Chapter 1 - A Royal Mandate

Proteus was in trouble, but nobody in the room would see  it on his face. Being Primus, and heir to the throne, he dared not show any  flicker of fear as he walked to confront his father. The audience chamber was  gratuitously large, and all worked out of dark green marble. The only windows  lay at the entrance of the chamber and behind the tall throne itself, obscuring  the Grand Monitor’s face from view.

Proteus sniffed. His father hadn’t been much to look at  before he ascended, and the battle with his siblings for supremacy had left him  badly scarred. He probably masked his appearance to appear mysterious, and so  other would-be dictators didn’t get any mutinous ideas.

The distance from the entrance hall to the throne was  quite long, almost a hundred yards, which made the walk feel like an eternity  with everyone staring at him. Crowds of noblemen lined the sides of the  chamber, some clothed in the soft red tunics of the current fashion, and others  encased in the hardshell black-and-red armor of the Royal Army. Broad in the  shoulder, it flowed in small articulated plates down the body, fitting visibly  close to the muscular bodies it protected. These were officers and advisers to  the Grand Monitor on the wars with neighboring Galena.

Behind these nobles, at regular intervals along the  walls, were the Vespers. All male warriors, trained from an early age and  hand-selected, these guardian-servants lived only to protect and serve the  royal family. The Vespers wore only loin-cloths, but Proteus knew that they had  hidden defenses which only the Royal family knew about. Genetic modification  and implantation had made them into living weapons. And they were pretty to  look at, Proteus added, taking stock of a particularly lean Vesper.

Proteus himself wore a violet tunic, belted simply at the  waist, with his sword and dagger at his sides, and slim black pants hugged his  legs, which tucked into high buckled combat boots. His step was denounced with  authoritative jangling, as his spurs rattled at his heel. Proteus affixed his  best apathetic scowl onto his countenance, and came to a stop a respectful  distance before the throne. He bowed smoothly, and braced for the storm.

“Viro Proteus Primus. I had such high hopes for you.” his  father began, spitting the words as though they were acid from his raised  throne. “By your age I conquered two planetary systems, consolidated an empire,  and sired four legitimate sons to continue the dynasty. But here you are, my  eldest, with no sons to speak of, and no military victories--”

“My lord, the Battle of Malax--” Proteus started, but his  father Martius Primus cut him off.

“The Battle of Malax was insignificant. It neither succeeded in expanding our empire, nor in  securing the region. Your precious victory, such as it was, means nothing.”

A murmur rippled through the audience of assembled lords.  Proteus felt the back of his neck burn with their combined judgment.

“I defeated the Malaxar rebels and brought you the manhood  of Chief Ugrun himself.”

“A deed well-done, brother.” a new voice interjected. Proteus  groaned internally, as Prince Avidus Secundus, and his deadliest enemy, strode  casually from the crowd to his right. “One might think your only use is killing  like a rabid dog, and the fondling of cocks.”

Another murmur raced through the crowd. Proteus’ love of  men was well-known, and generally tolerated, but never openly spoken of. Avidus  smiled with an arrogance that made Proteus want to punch him in the teeth.

“Your brother makes a fair point, Viro.” the Grand  Monitor intoned. “Your amusement in chasing beautiful men is admirable.”

That wiped the smirk off of Avidus’ face, and the knot in  Proteus’ gut unclenched slightly.

“The pursuit of masculine lovers is a time-honored, noble  pastime, but it is past time you sowed your seed in women, and secure male  heirs for our family’s continuance. For if anything should happen to you, like  your dear brother Quartus…”

Avidus leered without subtlety, reaffirming Proteus’  belief that they could not possibly be related. Of course Avidus had arranged  Quartus’ murder. All the crown princes plotted against each other, it was  expected, nay, encouraged. Proteus remained alive by simply being faster and  smarter than all the rest.

“It would be truly unfortunate. Oh, by all means, keep  your men. Follow your desires. But, bring me a woman pregnant with your seed  within a fortnight, or the consequences will be…steep.”

The Grand Monitor leaned forward as he delivered this,  and Proteus shivered.

“Within a fortnight, my king?” Proteus bit his lip, but  sighed and bowed again. “As you command, father.”

“Good. You are dismissed.”

Proteus rose and turned, deliberately ignoring Avidus who  was observing him intently, baiting him into an open challenge. Instead,  Proteus walked back to the entrance. Two Vespers swung the doors open for him,  and he swept through…

…into the arms of one of his closest friends and lovers,  Galen Kaeso. Galen hugged him tightly, and they shared a long kiss in the  shadowy hall. “How did it go?” Galen asked. Proteus grimaced. “Talk more in  private.”

“That well, huh?” Galen teased, but his face fell when he  saw Proteus’ expression. The two of them hurried back to the Primus wing of the  palace, and made sure they were alone before speaking further. Ever present  were the Vespers, but they were to be trusted implicitly, and did not take part  in royal family politics.

Galen was Proteus’ first bodyman. He functioned as a  bodyguard, confidant, and constant companion. They had been raised together,  Galen had been chosen from the children of the Vespers, and through all the  years, they had been close as any two young men could be. They practiced  fighting together, and when they were old enough, practiced fucking together,  and never knew any other way.

Proteus’ bedroom was immense, with a large circular  canopy bed, fitted with scarlet dressings. The black marble walls and floor  were accented by columns around the room, and led out onto a magnificent open  air balcony, which overlooked a steep cliff. The palace was built at the peak  of a mountain, and the drop from the balcony was considerable. But Proteus  liked being able to stand there and look out over the black mountains as the  storms rolled over their crests.

Proteus walked to the balcony and leaned one arm upon the  nearest column. Galen came up behind him and wrapped his strong arms around his  waist, rubbing his hands along Proteus’ lean torso. Galen rested his chin in  the crook of Proteus’ neck, and began kissing his skin softly.

“What happened with your father?” he murmured between the  touches of his lips. Galen could feel his prince’s pulse quicken at the  question.

“It’s nothing.”

Galen slid a hand beneath the prince’s tunic and caressed  his skin directly. Proteus shifted so that his tunic opened more at the front,  allowing Galen’s hands better access. A low moan escaped the prince’s throat.

“Tell me.” Galen purred. “We can face anything if we’re  together.”

Proteus broke away abruptly, the motion opening his tunic  fully. Galen was struck with awe, once again, as he saw the prince’s smooth  skin, stretched tightly across a broad, heavy chest, and rippling down a  delectably muscular torso. The prince’s pronounced contours, formed by long  hours of combat training, shaped a powerful ‘v’, which sloped precariously down  into the waistline of his pants, which sat low around his hips.

It was said that the royal bloodline had been genetically  modified to be the strongest, the most attractive, and the most virile of all  the breeds. Looking at his prince, Galen believed it fervently, as his own  arousal began to harden.

“The Grand Monitor demands that I provide proof of an  heir within a fortnight.” Proteus crumbled. Galen snapped out of his reverie  and caught the prince, their weight bearing them to the marble floor. “He knows  I love men, and that I find no attraction in women. I’ve never even come close  to consummating a woman – I…I…fall short.”

“Shhh…it’s alright, my lord.” Galen held him tightly, and  spoke carefully. “There are ways in which we can honor your father’s wishes and  still spare you that duty.”

Proteus looked up. “Oh if there is such a way, tell me  how and save me from this unwanted task.”

Galen nodded. “I have heard tell of ancient techniques.  The seed of the man is collected naturally, and then released into the woman’s  womb by machine.”

“Oh, I could kiss you!” Proteus exclaimed. “What a  brilliant solution! But who has this technology? Surely such arcane lore has  long since been lost.”

“Well my lord, that’s the beauty of it.” Galen smiled. “I  know one man who may be able to help. The owner of the Capitol Pleasurehouse –  Dominus Vel Ravinius Sura. If we approach him, I’m sure he could manage the  process, or if not, direct us to someone who could.”

Proteus grinned fiercely and kissed Galen intensely,  holding Galen’s head with both hands. Proteus then began to shift downward,  kissing and nibbling Galen’s neck. Reaching down hastily, his prince ripped  open Galen’s tunic, and began planting kisses all down Galen’s own muscular  chest. Proteus spent particular care lavishing Galen’s nipples with attention,  and making small light licks the closer he got to Galen’s manhood. With  deliberate care, Proteus lowered Galen’s trousers, allowing his hardened, hot  thickness to swing free.

“My lord.” Galen gasped. “We might even sample some of  the Pleasurehouse wares while we’re there. I hear they just brought in a fresh  batch of phallicus recruits, and you always said you wanted to take a new male  pleasure slave for a test ride.”

Proteus made no verbal answer, but merely grinned, took  hold of Galen’s straining shaft, and sank his beautiful lips down over it.  Galen moaned as he watched his prince’s lips moving tightly over his own veined  member. Proteus shrugged Galen’s legs up onto his powerful shoulders and  wrapped his heavy arms around Galen’s hips, running his hands over Galen’s revealed  skin while he rose and plunged his head up and down between Galen’s thighs.

It began to rain on the balcony, and the angle of it  sprayed water droplets into the outer area of the room. Galen and Proteus began  to get wet. Proteus stripped out of his tunic entirely, allowing the rain to  bead across his bare back muscles as he pleasured Galen’s body with his tongue.  His beautiful blue hair was soon drenched and hung limply around his face. His  slim trousers soon clung to his powerful legs, and the front was strained by  the hardness of his own arousal as he ground his hips against the marble floor.

Galen let the water fall on his face and chest, his  ripped tunic also clinging to his arms and sides, his pants slung around his  ankles, as his best friend and lord licked along the entire length of his  hardness, and rain fell from the sky.

The Vespers in the room watched with silent interest,  their own loincloths bulging, but made no move to join, or pleasure themselves.  They could not do so without their lord’s permission. Nonetheless, several  loincloths began to dampen, and not from the rain.

“Oh my Lord! My lord! Oh fuck, Proteus your tongue….I…oh  god…mmmm, don’t stop!”

Galen couldn’t hold his words in any longer as small  primal sounds began to escape him. Proteus was only encouraged by this – a fact  both lovers knew well – and his left hand gripped Galen’s thigh tightly, while  his right gripped Galen’s pectoral, his fingers teasing Galen’s nipple  mercilessly. Proteus began taking Galen deeper, consuming more and more inches  of Galen’s heat until his lips could go no further, and his royal chin pressed  closely into Galen’s swiftly tightening balls.

This action, in turn, made Galen gasp more loudly and  more quickly, until with a keening cry he released. Proteus, intimately  familiar with Galen’s responses, backed off his shaft so that only the hooded  crown rested on his tongue, his lips open. Galen’s seed shot twice into the  back of Proteus’ mouth, and then spurted up across his face, catching long hot  ropes on his cheekbone and nose, before slowing to a steady flow, and finally a  stop.

Proteus swallowed the load with relish, and dabbed at the  cream on his face with his fingers, sucking each finger in turn. Then he lay  down next to Galen, both men breathing heavily on the wet marble floor.

“Thanks for the idea, and the fun.” Proteus laughed. “I  can’t tell you how much I needed that.”

Galen smiled. “It’s a pleasure to serve you, my lord.”

They shared a serious moment, and then broke out  laughing. “Tomorrow we visit the Pleasurehouse!” Proteus shouted. “Tonight, we  follow our hearts.”

Sharing another kiss on the floor, the lovers hurried towards  the bed.

To be continued...