“Please,” Will gasped when he was done swallowing, save for a little stray drop of cum that stayed adorably on the side of his lips. “Please. Let me fucking come now.”
“You have done well,” Maddox agreed. “You have earned release.”
“Oh, thank fucking…” Will reached down and grasped himself, only to have Maddox slap his hand away.
“I will be the one controlling your orgasm, boy,” he told Will firmly as he pulled him up to his feet.
All eyes were on them, even eyes that were currently located mere inches above mouths performing dirty acts. Will was beautiful, his body muscular and desperate with need. It was a pleasure to make an example of him. He had something to use too, a toy, or was it more a tool? Whatever it was, it was a smooth, curling shape and lacquered to a high shine. It might have been mistaken for a small sculpture by the untrained eye.
Will grit his teeth as the toy slid into his rear, but this was no normal piece of equipment. This was a piece of craftsmanship designed to find the gland inside the rear of a man with near laser accuracy. Within seconds of the smooth, slick wood entering his body, Will was trembling uncontrollably, his seed arcing from his painfully erect cock out over the sea of thrilled sycophants who raced to be anointed in it. He roared and cried out as he came, the release of the physical and emotional pressure almost too much to take.
Afterward, Will collapsed into Maddox’s lap, entirely undone and now utterly uninterested in any of the proceedings yet to come.
“How long is the orgy scheduled to last, my king?” Alonzo, the royal attendant, hovered nearby, his voice only barely audible above the steady thud of music designed to attend mass copulation. Music to fuck by, as Will put it.
“There is no scheduled end. The debauchery is over when all grow tired. Why not begin as we intend to go on? Royals are expected to be decadent, are they not?”
“Certainly, but they are also expected to manage matters of justice and…”
“I will see those who seek my ruling now,” Maddox said. There was a small clearing around him; it would not count as private, but nothing in the royal court could ever truly be private with so many spies and interested parties forever lurking.
“With an insensate human in your lap?”
“With, as you say, an insensate human in my lap,” Maddox nodded. Will was no bother. He was the equivalent of a sleeping cat, an object to either ignore or fawn over, depending on one’s temperament.
“Does he not object to being treated this way? Most humans prefer privacy.”
“Will is not most humans. He’s a very special boy,” Maddox said, lightly running his fingers through Will’s dark hair. Every bit of the young man was exquisite. He felt both the pride of ownership and the softer tug of love. Both were thoroughly enjoyable.
“He is at least well behaved,” Alonzo noted. “He might make a perfect first fledgling for you, sire.”
“I do not have any fledglings and I do not intend to make any,” Maddox replied. “A human may be perfectly human.”
“It is strongly recommended that you have some kind of heir, my liege.”
“I have an heir. He is moping over in the corner.” Maddox jerked his thumb over at Lorien who remained blissfully unaware of the content of the conversation going on about him.
Alonzo’s brows rose.
“But he’s not of your lineage. You are an ancient, sire. Your bloodlines are not only honored, but truly precious. That one is common. And makerless.”
“I’m aware of what Lorien is and is not,” Maddox said. “He is my heir. You may write it in whatever ledger you need to.”
“Long may you live, sire,” Alonzo said. Maddox allowed himself a smirk. He did enjoy the way petty functionaries like Alonzo were capable of delivering an ego stroke and a complaint in the very same sentence.
“Thank you, Alonzo.”
2
The Past
In the aftermath of Maddox's coronation, one might have been forgiven for thinking a happily-ever-after might ensue, that the narrative was complete, and that all good things had come to an end.
But it was not over. Maddox knew that. Young people like Will always thought stories had ends, that monsters could be defeated, and that ever-afters could be happy. Maddox knew better. Monsters would always rise, and stories did not end, they just went on and on… and ever after? That was another term for torturous eternity. He should know.
Still, there was little point in trying to convince Will otherwise. He was happy, and happiness was a rare enough thing to be worth preserving at the cost of truth.
But being king could not unfortunately be all orgies. Maddox was forced to suffer an almost unbearable amount of paperwork coming from other kingdoms—of which there were a nearly endless number. The diplomacy requirements alone were enough to crush the souls of a thousand mortals. He was attempting to read the same convoluted sentence for the fifth time when the door to his office sprang open dramatically.