Wilhelm knew that this slave was what he needed. Marcus gave him everything, without reservation, and he needed it. He drank in every cry and moan, letting the pleasure take him over the edge of ecstasy.
Marcus found himself making ineloquent sobs, breathing unevenly, gulping air. He wasn't sure if he'd passed out or simply come, but he didn't feel the same. A new consciousness overtook him. The things he was feeling for his Master were bad things. Dangerous things. Things he couldn't think of or dream of. He swallowed hard and looked over at Frederic. It stung too badly to look at his beautiful Master just then.
Wilhelm felt indescribably sad when Marcus wouldn't look at him. He wanted to drink in that beautiful face, see the sated look he'd put there. He pulled out and lay between the two slaves, muscles trembling. Frederic snuggled up immediately to the prince, gazing across his chest at Marcus.
Marcus moved to press up against his Master's side, too. He rested his head lightly on his shoulder. He didn't like sharing this time, the after part. But he knew he'd gotten more attention than Frederic, so he couldn't begrudge it. He gazed back at the other slave, and reached across his Master's chest, touching Frederic's hand almost shyly.
Wilhelm sighed contentedly. He felt drained and satisfied. Bringing Frederic in had been erotic and fun, but in the end, all he really needed was Marcus. He was glad that both slaves had seemed to enjoy it.
They drifted off to sleep that way, Marcus and Frederic holding hands and snuggled against the prince.
* * * *
The next few days returned to normal. Marcus was strangely relieved each evening when he didn't find Frederic in his Master's room. He knew it was probably disobedient of him to even think that way, but he couldn't help himself. Not that he hadn't enjoyed being with Frederic. The other slave was gorgeous, and had been nothing but sweet and giving to Marcus. He felt guilty about his jealousy, so when he ran into Frederic one afternoon in one of the more secluded corridors of the castle, near the slave quarters, he resolved to be especially nice to him.
"Hello,” he said with a smile.
"If it isn't the captivating Marcus,” Frederic purred. “I've missed you.” His voice held a sensuous familiarity, and he stood just a little too close.
Marcus smiled sweetly. “Have you? I am easy enough to find.” He leaned back against the wall. Something in Frederic's manner made him want to flirt. It was nice to relate to someone on his own level.
"Indeed. But I know you are kept quite busy by His Majesty, and rightfully so,” Frederic replied. He moved closer. “But, had you no pressing duties at the moment..."
Marcus gasped softly. “He is out riding with the king,” he said. “Why?” He had an inkling why, but he wasn't completely sure how he felt about it. Frederic was attractive, certainly, but it seemed presumptuous somehow. He'd been with other fellow slaves in the past, but his situation was different now.
Frederic's smile increased in intensity. “Have you no idea why I might wish to spend more time with you, pretty Marcus?” he said, keeping his voice to a discreet level.
Marcus could feel his face growing warm. “I can think of a few reasons.” He couldn't help but feel like he was betraying his Master, although it wasn't as if he was anything more than a slave to the handsome prince.
"So can I,” Frederic said. “Perhaps we could find a private place to discuss those reasons?” He smiled enticingly at Marcus, gaze fixed on the other man's eyes.
Marcus swallowed hard. “All right,” he said softly. He glanced around. His heart was hammering with arousal and anxiety. “Are you certain it's allowed?” he asked.
Frederic shrugged. “Sometimes things that are not allowed are all the better,” he said, voice low. “Come with me. I know just the spot.” He turned and walked quickly down the corridor.
Marcus followed after him. He was a little ambivalent. He liked Frederic, and he found him very attractive. But then, his Master didn't think of him as anything more than a possession. Why should it matter? He'd wanted Frederic, too, after all.
Frederic led him out the back of the castle, toward the stables. He didn't look to be in a hurry, but they covered the distance quickly. Marcus had to jog a few steps to keep up with Frederic's determined stride. There was no one about, and he was glad of it. It all seemed so clandestine. But then, he supposed it was. They reached a storage room on the far side of the building that housed the stables. It seemed deserted and unused.
Frederic opened the door for Marcus, and shut it quickly behind them. He turned to Marcus, smiling. “I've thought of you a lot,” he offered breathlessly, stepping close.
Marcus gazed into his eyes. “Have you, really? What did you think about me?” he asked. No matter how wrong it felt, Marcus couldn't seem to stop himself from letting the events unwind before him. He was addicted to it.
"I thought about your sweet mouth,” Frederic whispered, reaching out to gently touch Marcus’ full lips. “And the way you watched the prince take me..."
Marcus swallowed hard. “Did you like it? When he took you? And I watched?” he asked haltingly. He was already panting, easily aroused as he always had been, but especially with someone as attractive as Frederic.
"Oh yes, very much,” Frederic said, moving nearer. “I know you knew just what I was feeling, and you were going to get taken next. I loved the way you looked, so aroused, so needy...” He dropped a hand to rub at Marcus’ obvious bulge. “Just like you are now..."
Marcus sucked in a sharp breath. He ran his hands up Frederic's arms. He felt helpless, trapped by the tiny space and the gorgeous slave and his own body's ache for him. “Should I ask my Master to include you again?” he whispered.
"I would like that a great deal,” Frederic replied, not stopping his soft touches. “But there's no reason to wait, is there?” He wrapped his arms around Marcus, pulling him close, and he leaned in to kiss the other slave.
Marcus made a soft whimpering sound when Frederic kissed him. He wrapped his arms around the other slave's neck. Marcus loved to be kissed, even though he felt a nagging sense of guilt about it. But he was just a toy to his Master. Wasn't he?
Frederic kissed Marcus deeply and skillfully, his hand roaming all over him, touching him everywhere. He pressed their slim bodies together, cocks lining up.
Marcus melted in Frederic's embrace. It felt so good. Frederic was so good looking, and Marcus loved to be wanted. It filled something inside him. Slowly, Frederic guided them over to some bales of hay that were covered with a blanket. He never stopped kissing Marcus as he eased him down onto it.
Marcus felt himself being gently propelled downward. He lay back on the rough blanket, still sucking on Frederic's tongue, lost in the delicious wet heat. Thoughts of it being wrong were slowly fading in the face of the careful seduction. Frederic kissed Marcus thoroughly, slowly, and passionately. He ran his hand down the other man's body lightly, rocking against him.
Marcus moaned into the kiss, wriggling beneath Frederic's compact but solid body. He was so hard now he forgot everything but the present, shifting his knees apart a little. Frederic ground against Marcus more firmly, and one hand came up to push up the other slave's shirt.
Unthinkingly, Marcus leaned up, helping Frederic remove his shirt. The kiss broke for a moment as the garment was removed, then he lay back, tugging at Frederic's shirt. Frederic pulled off his shirt quickly, then reached down to untie the lacings of Marcus’ trousers. Marcus panted hard, looking up at Frederic. He lifted his hips, struggling out of the confining fabric. The blanket beneath him felt scratchy on his smooth, bare skin, and he felt especially exposed in the strange setting.
Frederic smiled down at Marcus. “You're beautiful,” he whispered, running his hand down Marcus’ body slowly. He unlaced his own trousers before wrapping his hand around Marcus’ cock.
Marcus slid his hands inside Frederic's trousers, down over his perfect hips. He licked his full lips. “You're handsome,” he whispered, moaning as the other man touched him.
* * * *
Wilhelm had had a good ride, but he hadn't been able to stop thinking about his sweet Marcus as he rode. He decided to call for him just as soon as he got back to the room. He wouldn't even wait for dinner, just call Marcus in to bathe with him, and make love to him. He smiled just thinking about it.
There was a mare about to foal, and the stable boys were busy, so Wilhelm offered to put his saddle away himself. He didn't quite know where it went, though, and he ducked inside one room, thinking it was the tack room.
As his eyes adjusted to the light, he realized with a start that this was not the tack room. There were two people, wrapped in an intimate embrace. He was about to apologize and back out when, with a gasp, he recognized the person on the bottom. “Marcus!” he cried out, mouth hanging open.
Marcus gasped and all but pushed Frederic off of him. He grabbed his pants and held them over himself, which he realized was completely silly. It was too late to cover up. “Master! I..."
Wilhelm could only stare. Marcus was naked. Frederic had been on top of him, touching him. It had been more than clear what they'd been about to do. Irrational tears pricked at his eyes as he stared. “Sorry,” he whispered, pale as a ghost. “I ... sorry.” He turned and fled. He knew the slaves and staff dallied among themselves. There was no official rule about it, because people were human. They needed contact. But he'd thought it was different between him and Marcus. He stumbled back to his rooms, holding back tears.
Marcus could only watch him leave in horror. “Oh ... oh no...” He scrambled up from where he was half-pinned under Frederic and started to yank his clothes back on quickly. “I ... I'm sorry ... I have to go,” he stuttered.
Frederic looked from the door to Marcus. “Was that the prince?” he asked, not sounding overly concerned.
"Yes. It was the prince.” He laced up his trousers and straightened his shirt. “He looked so upset. I have to go apologize ... beg for forgiveness,” he said breathlessly.
Frederic frowned. “Did he tell you that you could not be with anyone else?"
"No, but he was upset. I have to go to him. I'm sorry, Frederic.” He leaned close and kissed him on the cheek. “I'm sorry."
And then he slipped out the door and sped towards the castle.
* * * *
Wilhelm didn't remember getting to his rooms. He did, remember, though, to tell the guard that was posted at the door that he wanted no visitors. He didn't want to see anyone at all.
He went in, throwing off his cloak and all but flung himself on his bed, face down. It smelled of Marcus, and all he could think of was the nights and days they'd spent here. He'd been fooling himself, though, that the slave felt anything for him. He felt like an idiot. All he could see was Marcus’ gorgeous body, under another man, under Frederic, those hands on him, on his Marcus. He sobbed out loud, uncaring if anyone heard.
Marcus hurried to the prince's chambers. He needed to talk to him. He had to see him. He took the stairs two at a time, and he was panting by the time he got to his door. “Please, let me pass,” he said to the huge guard.
The guard looked down at Marcus. “His Majesty is not seeing anyone,” he said shortly.
Marcus gasped. “But ... I am his ... he ... I...” He stuttered. “I am his personal slave,” he said softly, looking down.
"I know,” the guard said, not unkindly. “But he said no one should enter. Unless you are the king, I cannot let you enter."
Tears sprang to Marcus’ eyes. “Please, I need to speak to him. Can you not tell him that I am here? That I need to apologize? Please. I'm begging you,” he said.
"He does not wish to be disturbed,” the guard said. “I fear he has been dealt a serious blow, for he looked quite ashen."
Marcus felt like he'd been stabbed in the heart. And then he heard broken sobs through the door. He pressed up against it, laying his hands and cheek to the door. He squeezed his eyes shut and then withdrew, trembling. “If you see him, please tell him I ... I ... no. I will wait here.” He stepped across the corridor and sat against the opposite wall, pulling his knees up, curled in a ball.
The guard seemed about to speak, then shrugged. “It is your choice,” he said. Then he went back to his alert stance.
Inside, Wilhelm cried himself to sleep on Marcus’ pillow. He dreamed of his slave. He dreamed Marcus was running away from him.
Marcus hugged his arms around his knees, and eventually rested his head on his knees, and dozed off. He slept through the changing of the guards, and when he woke it was the middle of the night. He stood and stretched and asked after his Master, but he hadn't left his room. He paced for a while, then sat back down, resuming his previous position, sitting vigil at his Master's door.
* * * *
Wilhelm woke, groggy. It was still dark, and he felt as if he hadn't rested at all. He immediately thought of Marcus and felt despair. He couldn't imagine going on without him, but if the other man felt nothing more for him than a slave would feel toward a kind Master, he couldn't bear to see him again. He got up and walked toward the door, wondering if anyone had come to see him. He pulled the heavy drapery aside that covered the door, and pushed it open.
Marcus was staring mutely at the door as he had been for hours when it started to open. Instantly he rose, though his muscles ached from being too long in one position. He darted for the door. “Master! Please ... please, Master, I must speak to you..."
Wilhelm gasped when he saw it was Marcus; he'd been crouched in the hallway. The guard caught him before he got to Wilhelm, but he could only stare. He didn't want the slave to see him this way; he'd been crying all night. He backed away, but not so much that he couldn't see Marcus. He looked small and forlorn and right then, Wilhelm knew he was hopelessly in love.
Marcus could see that his Master's eyes were red from crying, and his throat tightened. The guard held him fast, though, twisting his arm behind his back. “Please, Master,” he sobbed. At that moment he wished for punishment. Anything would be preferable to knowing that he'd hurt him so.
Wilhelm felt like a knife was twisting in his stomach as he watched. “Stop!” he called out to the guard. He hesitated. He wanted so badly to see Marcus. He made a decision. “Let him go. He may enter. But no one else.” He turned quickly and walked back in the room, before the guard could see him crying.
Marcus scrambled after him, closing the door quickly before he changed his mind. He threw himself to his knees and bowed low to the ground. “Oh, please forgive me, Master. I did not know. Please ... I beg you to forgive me. Or beat me. Or ... Oh, god. Please ... I have shamed you. I am so sorry,” he said, half-sobbing through it all.
Wilhelm kept his back turned. He couldn't bear to look at Marcus. He felt no anger, only despair. “Don't be sorry, you did nothing wrong,” he whispered. Except break his heart unknowingly.
Marcus wanted to die. “If I did nothing wrong then why are you so distressed, Master? Please ... I did not mean to ... Oh, god, please, punish me, Master. I cannot go on knowing I've caused you pain,” he said, still crouched on the ground, nearly sobbing.
Wilhelm shook his head, still not looking at Marcus. He desired this slave so much it frightened him. “I never told you that you could not...” His breath hitched, and he was unable to even voice it though the images were crystal clear in his head.
Slowly Marcus straightened up. “But, if you are not angry with me, why were you crying, Master? Why can you not look at me?” he asked.
"Because, when I saw you...” Wilhelm took a gulp of air, trying to get himself under control. “I did not know how much it would hurt."
Marcus rose to his feet. He took a step towards his Master. “It will never happen again. I swear to you, Master. I would never want to cause you pain. Please...” He put his hand lightly on his Master's back. “Let me help you forget,” he whispered.
Wilhelm shivered at the touch. He wanted Marcus so badly he could taste it. “No,” he said shakily. “I will never make you do anythi
ng you don't want to anymore.” He'd been fooling himself that Marcus would voluntarily want him.
Marcus could only stare for a moment. “You have never made me do anything I did not want to do, Master,” he said quietly. His heart ached for the handsome man that he'd hurt and he leaned against his back, pressing his cheek against his shoulder.
He couldn't help it. He craved Marcus’ touch. He moaned. “How could you really want me?” He asked softly. “You were only doing my bidding.” To avoid being punished, of course. How could he have been so naïve?
"You know that I was as affected as you were, Master. How can you doubt it? I have never wanted anyone as much as you, Master. Please believe me.” He slid his arms around the prince's waist, tears pricking his eyes. He had never felt so empty, so desperate. “I would want you even if I were free. But I would never have been so close to you if I were not your slave."
Wilhelm wanted to believe. But ... “Then why did you go with Frederic?” It was his fault. He had put them together.
Marcus bit his lip. “I ... He wanted me. And I didn't know it would hurt you. I thought I was just ... I am just a slave to you."
That made Wilhelm turn around finally. “You are so much more than that,” he said, gazing into Marcus’ eyes. “That is the problem."
Finally Marcus was looking into his Master's eyes. “Must that be a problem, Master?” he said softly. It certainly wasn't to him. It made him amazingly happy, in fact.
"It is a problem,” Wilhelm whispered. “Because I cannot force you to be with me.” He knew it was silly. Marcus was a slave. He was bound to do what Wilhelm told him. There was only one way around this.
"You do not need to force me. I am with you willingly, Master,” he said sadly. “I wish I had never met Frederic. I wish...” He looked down. “I have hurt you and shamed you. I am not w-worthy of your kindness,” he whispered.
Wilhelm shook his head. “It is I who is not worthy of a man so sweet and kind as you, Marcus. I was selfish and greedy. I thought only of myself.” He felt miserable, because he knew what he had to do.
Phaze Fantasies, Vol. III Page 8
