Private Ashliegh Saunders sits on the train trying not to be ill. He is on his way to a small town in Moldova that he has never heard of to meet with a prince who has requested aid from his friend, Saunders’ Colonel, for some security at his castle. It is a menial job, but Saunders cannot refuse as he has just joined His Majesty’s service.

He is the perfect picture of a soldier; blonde hair that is cut high and tight in the back with a bit of length in the front, clear blue eyes, and a nice moustache on his upper lip. He is tall, lean and has beautiful posture. The red coat of his uniform shines brightly against his pale skin. His Colonel likened him as the poster boy for the military, and all the women stop and stare at the pretty young man in the bright uniform. Saunders sits back and tries to breathe through the nausea from the rocking train.

“You would think they would have built a better train or railroad by this time,” Saunders thinks miserably. “Hopefully the Prince will have better accommodations than this, otherwise it will be a long assignment.”

Saunders is assigned to stay with the prince for the next 3 months as a glorified bodyguard, after which, if all goes well, he will be promoted and sent on to a more plum assignment.

“I can do this,” he thinks. “Just as long as I do not vomit!” He closes his eyes, pressing his lips together, and breathes deeply through his nose. “I can do this.” This is Saunders’ mantra for the rest of the journey. Thankfully, his body does not betray him.

The train pulls into a dismal little station. As Saunders disembarks, he looks up at the sky to see dark, rolling clouds flying through it.

“Looks like rain, wonderful.”

Considering he is from the United Kingdom, one would think he would be used to the rain, but he hates it. He does not like the way the rain ruins his hair, or his clothes. But he is a soldier, and he will take it like one. He gathers his belongings and goes to the front of the station. There a man stands in front of a wooden carriage, with a sign in beautiful, but slightly archaic script bearing his name. It takes him a second to understand the sign. When he goes and introduces himself to the little smiling man bearing the placard, he receives only vigorous nods in reply.

“Delightful, the man does not even speak the King’s English.”

Saunders sighs, and smiles back at the man, pointing at himself, the sign and the carriage. The man again nods vigorously and quickly grabs Saunders’ bags, throwing them onto the top of carriage with ease. Saunders eyes widen a bit at the surprising strength of the man, but shrugs it off as luck and gets into the carriage, as the man jumps onto the front with a great leap. Again, Saunders chalks it up to the fact that this man must transport people from the castle daily, and so is adept at getting up and down from the thing. As they start to move, the carriage sways and jolt as it hits every bump in the road. Saunders groans aloud, and settles in for another uncomfortable ride, hoping against hope that the castle they are journeying to is not very far away.

Prince Jorza Szörnyeteg looks out from the tower window of the castle onto his small town, far below, wondering how things have progressed so far and so quickly. As he contemplates the tiny buildings and people below, his man, Pietr, comes to the doorway.

“Your Highness, the soldier has arrived.”

Jorza lifts his massive, shaggy head and gazes sadly at his old friend with dark eyes.

“Thank you, Pietr. I will be along shortly.” He turns back to the window as Pietr withdraws silently, the silent hulk of a back blocking the light from the window.

As the carriage enters the courtyard, Saunders sits stunned starting at the size of the castle looming before him. There are several towers of varying heights supported by beautifully ornamented buttresses, reaching across the gaps of the towers like lover’s fingers, holding them aloft. Gargoyles can be seen sprouting from all corners of the towers, their grotesque faces and yawning maws screeching silently to the sky as if in eternal pain. The stone of the castle is dark, made all the darker by the storm clouds that have followed them from the station. Saunders can see the small town below them, nestled serenely in the bottom of a valley. Here, the castle sits on a cliff overlooking all beneath it. Again he shudders.

“What have I gotten myself into?” He wonders as he steps from the carriage, the small man smiling maniacally, it now seems to Saunders. He smiles back nervously as the man jumps from the top of the carriage to the ground with Saunders’ luggage. The man is becoming more and more freakish the longer Saunders looks at him and so he gratefully turns to the voice calling to him from the castle. A large ornate door has opened and there stands a tall, thin, pale man in severe dark clothing, beckoning him to come closer. The little man with the luggage zips past the man at the door, laughing.

“Medve! Slow down and see that the Private’s items are stored properly. I will be along soon to ensure all is in order, if it is not, the Master will be very displeased.”

At that, Medve slows to a slightly slower speed, but the laughter echoes in the hallways as his disappears around a corner. The man sighs, and turns to the soldier now coming up the walk. He notices the immaculate appearance, and the slightly scared look in the young man’s eyes. Pietr smiles to himself as he bows to the soldier, surprising him.

“Good afternoon, Private Saunders. My name is Pietr and I am His Highness’ personal servant. Please, do not mind Medve, he is a silly little man, but very efficient in his chores. His family, like mine, has worked for the royal family for generations. He is very valuable to us. I trust your journey went well.”

Saunders recovers from the formality and gives his own small bow to Pietr in return.

“Thank you for everything, Pietr. The trip was….uneventful…though I would like to go to my room to freshen up a bit before I meet His Highness.”

“Of course! His Highness had thought you would be weary from the trip and has requested your presence in the baths. They will help rejuvenate you. Please, follow me.”

A bit nonplussed, Saunders has no choice but to follow Pietr through the dark hallways to meet the prince. As they walk, Saunders looks around gaping at the incredible height of the ceilings, the arches that are in every entrance, the massive floors, and fireplaces that dominate the rooms. He notices that some rooms are spectacularly appointed with old but well maintained furniture, while others are bare and seemed cold and drafty. Candles in recessed scones in the walls light the way, but shadows abound and seem to follow Saunders and Pietr down the halls. Saunders makes sure to stay in the light so that the darkness will not envelop him.

“Get a grip, old boy!” He chides himself. “You are a soldier, not a babe in its mother’s arms. If you are to serve the Prince properly, you will need to man up.”

With a grim set to his face, he slows his pace slightly so that the darkness is at his back. He balls up his fists and marches proudly onward, ignoring the fear lurking in the back of his mind.
 
The Prince sits soaking in the steaming water, his eyes closed, and head back against the side of the bath as he rests his arms against the cool stones of the floor. He cracks open his eyes slightly to see Pietr and the young man emerging from the steam as they enter the room. A slight smile flits across his mouth before he closes his eyes again. He has liked what he has seen.
 
Saunders steps into the dark doorway that Pietr has disappeared to. When he emerges, he sees candles lit around the space, and steam floating up from the several pools of varying size scattered around the room. The water is clean and dark, hiding who-knows-what in its depths. Saunders checks the corners of the room and the ceiling to ensure that no one is hiding or lurking about. A deep chuckle comes from among the steam.

“Well done, I am glad to see that the Colonel did not lie when he said a well-trained soldier would be sent to me.”

Saunders moves forward, searching for the man the voice belongs to. Edging around a small pool, he comes upon a hulking figure in the water. The steam obscures his features, but Saunders can see the outline of long hair, dripping past massive shoulders and thick, corded arms. The rest of the man is lost beneath the water. Then the figure pushes off against the wall at his back and stands in the water, striding forward to Saunders and Pietr, who has retreated a few steps behind Saunders.

As the figure comes forward the light catches the man and finally, Saunders can see him. The man matches the outline that Saunders had seen before, but now he can clearly distinguish the tight pectorals of the man ending in dark, thick nipples. Thick hair courses down his chest and over his forearms, his hands huge and powerful. The nails are trimmed and shining. The hair on his chest ends at his stomach and spirals around his belly button, but Saunders can still see the tight abs and trim waist.

The lower half of the prince’s body is submerged until a few feet from Saunders when the water becomes shallower, then Saunders can see the massive thighs and long, thick cock of the prince…and it is erect. Saunders gulps and quickly looks up into the prince’s face; he notes a thick jaw with a ghost of a beard which seems to threaten to burst from his chin at any moment. The cheekbones, high and beautiful, and the eyes under massive eyebrows are dark and intelligent. All are seen in a flash as Saunders stands at attention, staring at a spot above the prince’s head.

“Yes, Your Highness. I am Private Saunders of His Majesty’s army. I have been extensively trained and assure you that I will protect and serve you to my utmost ability while I am here.” Saunders calls out smartly, while adding in his thoughts; “but why you need someone to protect you is beyond me. This bear of a man could handle almost anyone, I look like a dwarf compared to him!”

The prince smiles again as he lifts himself from the pool, dripping as he walks around Saunders, his hands clasped gently behind his back. The prince notes the private’s tight backside, his slim waist and body, the beautiful blonde hair that beckons to be pulled and his cock tightens just a bit more.

“I am very pleased by what I see here, I shall have to write the Colonel to personally thank him for such a fine specimen of a soldier that he has sent me. Now, I understand you are tired, I know that the trip here is not kind. Please, avail yourself of these healing waters and join me for dinner when you are refreshed. Pietr will see to all your needs until then, and show you to your room where you can change. You do not always need to wear that uniform while in my presence.”

With that the prince accepts the dark purple robe that Pietr handed to him, seemingly to have appeared out of thin air. As the prince wraps it around himself, Saunders notices the stylized S upon the breast. He breaths again once the prince’s cock is concealed. The prince notices Saunders’ gaze and glances down at the emblem and back to Saunders eyes.

“My family is very old. Sadly, I am the last surviving child of the Szörnyeteg line. When I die, the town will be turned over to the local government. Some have tried to speed me along my way, which is why I asked for help from the Colonel. But please, enjoy yourself and I will see you at supper.”

He turns and strides out of the room as Saunders and Pietr bow. Pietr straightens and turns back to Saunders and holds out another, simpler robe to him.

“Please, enjoy the baths. I will take your clothes and see that they are pressed. You may wear them for dinner, if you wish. No matter what His Highness says, he does love a good man in uniform.”

Pietr smiles and whisks the clothing away after Saunders sets them down and is safely ensconced in his robe. Finally alone, the soldier turns to the pools and chooses a smaller one from where he had met the prince. He lets his robe drop by the side of the pool and slowly enters the hot water. He shivers from the contact and sighs in pleasure as he settles on the bottom, mimicking the posture of the prince as he sits back.

Closing his eyes, his thoughts wander over the hills of nothingness in his mind as his body soaks up the water and relaxes. As the stress leaves his body, he notices that he is aroused. His mind’s eye sees again the huge form of the prince and his massive cock. Saunders’ breath catches as heat rises up to his cheeks. He cock becomes hard and he balls up his hands again, fighting the urge to stroke himself, knowing how good it would feel in the water. He forces his mind away from the prince and tries to relax again, but it is of no use. His cock is hard and his mind is wandering. Frustrated he rises from the pool and slips into the robe again. Wondering how he will call for Pietr to take him to his room, he startles as the man slips through the mist and appears at his side.

“Forgive me, sir. I did not mean to scare you. I trust the waters were helpful.”

“Yes, Pietr, they were. Thank you. I would like to go to my room now.”

“Of course, please, follow me.”

They wind their way through the labyrinthine halls, past dark portraits of terrifying relatives, the men massive like the prince, and the women demure, and petite. Saunders cringes at the thought of their mating.
They climb up richly carpeted staircases, while big grandfather clocks toll out the half hour. The sound stretches through the hallways. They pass ballrooms that are dark, but the huge windows cast just enough light so that the chandeliers twinkle in the dimness. Saunders gasps, glad that Pietr is in front of him so that he cannot see such un-soldier like conduct. The castle is beautiful and horrifying at the same time. Saunders wonders how these people could live here all alone and not be worried about ghosts and goblins, as he and Pietr continued down the hallway. Mercifully, they finally reach his room.

“When you are ready to go to dinner, just pull the bell cord beside your bed and either Medve or I will take you to the prince. Dinner will be in half an hour.”

With that Pietr strides down the corridor. Saunders hopes that Pietr will be the one to collect him. He does not want to see Medve any time soon. He shudders and goes into his room and locks the door behind him. The room is huge, with a sprawling bed that has sumptuous dark green curtains and the windows are latticed, high and arched. Across from the bed is a grand fireplace that looks as if Saunders could stand inside it; a roaring fire is warming the room nicely. Above the fireplace is a life size portrait of the prince dressed in royal garments, with a flowing fur-lined red cape and a large saber fastened at his side. The portrait’s eyes, so life like, stare down on the bed.

“So, you want a show, eh?”

Saunders lays down on the bed, throwing open his robe allowing his throbbing cock to spring free. While not so huge and thick as the prince’s, he is still of a good length and girth. He spits into his hand and grabs the base of his cock forcefully as he strokes. He thinks back to the pool, of the Prince dripping and naked, of his huge cock and what it would taste like, thinking of how his buttocks must seem, knowing they would be firm and high. He imagines what it would feel like to have the prince dominate him, to be pushed down on a bed and having the prince enter him. Saunders writhes on the bed, caught in his fantasy. Unbeknownst to him, the eyes in the portrait blink as they watch. Saunders keeps stroking, pumping his cock, squeezing his buttocks until finally, his pearly seed gushes from him and onto his stomach. Saunders lies gasping on the bed as his cock twitches its final hurrah. The person behind the portrait smiles and silently closes the eye holes before retreating.

Prince Jorza sits at the head of the long dining table awaiting his guest. Fingers steepled under his chin, his cock touching the rim of the table, he moves slightly back and forth as he recalls what he had seen in Saunders’ bedroom. Oh, how he was going to enjoy that little cub. Saunders had been correct when he had seen the portraits in the hall, the men in his family were massive and powerful. But they could also possess great gentleness when it suited them, and Prince Jorza knew that he would have to be gentle with this new cub. He rights himself when Pietr comes into the hall with Saunders in his pressed uniform, looking even more handsome than before with the candlelight glinting off the gold buttons of his jacket.

“Faithful Pietr.” The prince thinks as Saunders seats himself and Pietr starts to serve the first course.

“I trust that your bath was calming, and I hope you found your room adequate.”

“Yes, Your Highness, everything is splendid. Thank you for your generous hospitality.”

The prince chuckles at the formal response.

“Oh, do not worry, you will be working for your keep.” He grins wolfishly as he bends his shaggy head to the soup bowl in front of him. Saunders swallows audibly and starts to eat.

“After dinner, I would like to show you where I spend most of my time. If you are ever in need of me that is where you will most likely find me.”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“And please, stop calling me that. You are to stay here for the next few months, so please, call me Jorza.”

“Thank you, Your…Jorza. You may call me Saunders.”

“I would prefer your given name, what is it?”

“…Ashleigh.” The prince’s booming laugh fills the room.

“Do not be ashamed! It is a good strong name. Thank you for telling me, Ashleigh.”

Thankfully, the rest of the meal is spent talking about the castle, its origin, and defenses. Saunders sits enthralled by the history and story. The prince speaks well and knowledgeably, and answers all of Saunders’ questions intelligently. After the final course, and the final sip of wine, the prince escorts Saunders to the tallest tower where the prince spends most of his time. As they climb the tight spiraling staircase, the prince explains:

“This is where I escaped from my father and brothers. My mother was the only one to ever come here, even when her health failed her.”

“What happened to your family, Jorza? If I may be so bold.”

“Not at all, Ashleigh. My father and brothers died in the wars over this area. Our kingdom used to be full of sprawling lands and towns, but over time other kingdoms and governments have slowly stolen them. This castle and the town below are all that remain. It is part of the reason that so many of these rooms are shuttered and only a small staff remain with me. The townspeople are loyal, but the little government that has set itself up there attempts to thwart me at every move. After my father and brothers died, my mother’s heart soon gave out. I have been alone here for many a year now.”

“I am sorry to hear that, Your Highness.” Saunders felt the formality was penance for asking such a personal question. He could not imagine living here in such a dark place with only a few retainers, no matter how faithful or friendly, and with the ghosts of loved ones lingering in the halls.

“Please, do not apologize. It was a long time ago, and I have coped well. Your company is a great excitement here, as we do not often receive visitors. I am grateful you have come.”

The prince turns and puts a hand on Saunders’ shoulder. The falling light from the day pierces the window at their side. The prince’s dark eyes shine in the light, his mouth sad. Saunders rises up on the stair and kisses his mouth gently, hoping to take the sadness away. The prince’s eyes close from the contact and he shudders from the beauty of the moment. He grabs the back of Saunders’ head and kisses him hard, pressing him against the wall by the window. Saunders opens his mouth, receiving the prince’s tongue and grabs the prince’s mane in return, their heated breath steaming the window from their passionate embrace.

Their bodies press together, hands searching over the chests and backs, buttocks and groins. Their cocks grow hard from the contact. The prince breaks off and gently turns Saunders around, leaning his hands against both sides of the windows.

“I want to fuck you; look at the town below and imagine the people seeing us here. Watching me pound you.” The words are breathed into Saunders’ ear and he shivers.

“Take me, my prince. Do what you will with me.” It is all the urging that Jorza needs. He undoes the shiny buttons on the coat, removes the belt from around the trim waist and lowers the pants and undergarments. Ashleigh’s pearly white skin glows up at him and he tears away his own shirt and pants. His hungry cock taps softly at Ashleigh’s back.

“Let me help you.” Saunders says and turns around lowering himself onto the stairs. He finally looks at the prince’s cock in all its glory. A thick nest of hair encircles it, but it did not matter. The prince’s cock looks appetizing and Saunders opens his mouth and swallows down as much of it as he can. The prince supports himself on the wall behind him as the first feelings of pleasure course up his body. Saunders starts slowly, sucking long and hard, up and down the shaft, but as his own arousal mounts he sucks harder, his tongue sliding up and down the shaft faster and faster.

He cups the prince’s testicles, rolling them in his hand, squeezing them a bit to add to the sensation. The prince’s hips start to buck involuntarily from the pleasure making Saunders suck more deeply. The prince places a hand on the back of Saunders’ head tentatively and Saunders reaches up, resting his hand on the prince’s and pushing his own head forward. He lightly rocks Saunders’ head back and forth, thrusting his hips gently into Saunders’ mouth. Saunders leans back so he can speak, his mouth glistening.

“You will not hurt me, I will pinch your thigh if it gets to be too hard.” That said, he plunges back onto the prince’s cock with enthusiasm. The prince slowly pounds Saunders’ mouth, increasing the momentum until he is ramming his cock into the other man, his hips bucking, his hands laced together behind Saunders’ head, pounding the soldier’s mouth onto his cock.

“I do not want to cum yet, get up.” The prince’s voice is ragged from the exertion, but he wants Saunders’ tight ass first. He picks the solider up and spins him around, again planting Saunders’ hands on either side of the window. Jorza grabs his hips, rubbing one hand over each buttock, enjoying the tightness. He pinches one hard, making Saunders gasp.

“Yes, I want to hear you.”

Jorza strokes his dripping wet cock and smears the juice between Saunders’ cheeks. He spits into his other hand and reaches around to stroke Saunders’ hard cock. He puts his mouth by Saunders’ ear, breathing heavily.

“Tell me if I am going too fast, or am hurting you. I will stop.”

“Yes, my prince.”

Jorza reaches down and rims Saunders’ anus with his cock. He continues to stroke Saunders’ cock and rim him until Saunders’ pleading whimpers tell him he is ready. Jorza leans back placing one foot on the step below him, and holding one of Saunders’ hips, slowly starts to insert himself into Saunders’ tight little anus. It feels amazing and Jorza has to force himself to continue slowly so as not to tear into the smaller man. When he is fully inserted, he rests both hands on Saunders’ hips and thrusts gently in and out of him. Saunders’ hands clench and unclench on the window pane, his face a rictus of pleasure as Jorza’s huge cock slides in and out of him.

“Yes, my prince, keep going!” Saunders urges him on.

“Yes little cub, but you must also please yourself. I want you to spill your seed on the window. But do not touch your cock. Cum for me.”

Saunders is a little shocked, how can he cum without touching himself? This thought flits through his mind before it is consumed again by the pleasure. He rocks his hips with the prince’s as he feels Jorza’s cock fill him. Saunders’ cock responds in turn and lightly bumps the window. They keep fucking this way, Jorza reveling in the feel of Saunders’ anus opening to him, of the tight skin on his cock. His rhythm increases as the pleasure mounts.

“I am going to cum, little cub, cum with me! I want to see your seed sprayed on that window!”

At the prince’s command, Saunders increases his own thrusting against the prince’s cock and the window. Jorza’s hands grip Saunders’ hips harder, almost to bruising as he growls his orgasm. His cock is so thick that Saunders can feel each pulse as Jorza’s seed gushes into him. This throws Saunders over the edge and he spurts all over the window.

“Look my prince!” He gasps as he cums, his voice rising with Jorza’s. Jorza’s eyes widen from the erotic sight and he thrusts again into Saunders spending his seed. He leans against Saunders’ back, panting.

“You did well little cub. Are you hurt?” Saunders leans his head back and rests against the prince’s cheek.

“No, my prince. Not at all.”

“Then come, we are almost at the top where we can rest.”

His cock is now limp and he gently extracts himself. Kissing Saunders on the forehead, they make their way up the rest of the staircase. At the top, a heavy door stands and Jorza tiredly pushes it open. On the inside he bolts the door and makes his way to the bed in the centre of the room. The furnishings are the richest Saunders has seen yet, which is fitting. The bed is huge and sprawling, easily able to hold 10 people. The curtains are lush and thick, held back by thick ropes. There is a small dining area with sumptuous chairs of hard wood and a table, big enough that a person could be sprawled across it easily. Saunders shivers from the image. He and the prince collapse on the bed, the prince spooning Saunders easily.

“Rest now, little cub. Pietr will see to it that we are not disturbed.” Saunders sank peacefully into sleep, surrounded by the prince’s great arms, feeling safe.

Life settles quickly into a routine. During the day Saunders patrols the castle, ensuring the defenses are maintained and fixing those that have fallen into disrepair. He also escorts the prince when he ventures outside to meet the townsfolk, speak to the nasty little politicians or exercise in the garden. The townspeople are kind and look unabashedly at the handsome soldier. The politicians sneer and plot now that a new person has entered the castle.

The gardens are lush with mazes and beautiful flowers. The prince and Saunders hide in the grottoes and make love in the sun as the maze shields them, their only witnesses the birds and small animals who live there. Pietr and Medve occasionally hear a shout, but otherwise the two men are undisturbed. At night the prince and Saunders settle in either the dining hall or the prince’s tower, rolling in the massive bed or bent over the dining hall, the prince’s mouth against Saunders’ ear as his cock pounds him, the table or bed jerking under the harsh thrusting of the prince. Saunders has now been well worked and can handle the prince’s hardest poundings. The prince is pleased at the progress and decides to reward Saunders.

One night in the tower, with the prince and Saunders already ensconced for the evening and naked, Jorza tells Saunders to sit in a chair. He lashes Saunders’ arms at the elbows to the sides of the chair so his hands dangle by his thighs and binds his ankles to the front legs so they are spread. Saunders’ cock has started to thicken at this and the prince gently slaps his cock, flicking it with his fingers to make it bounce.

“Now my cub, I want you to untie yourself and come to me before I finish, or I will be very displeased.”

His eyes sparkle from the thrill as he watches the soldier struggle in his bonds. Jorza absentmindedly strokes his hardening cock as he leans back on the bed, his legs spread so Saunders can see.

“Come to me, Ashleigh. I want you to feel my cock.” Saunders continues to struggle, his cock rigid now. His hands beat helplessly at his thighs, trying to stroke himself. Jorza wags a finger at him.

“No, no, my cub. That is not what you should be focusing on. Focus on this!” Jorza pumps his cock, stroking it fast as he groans in pleasure.

Saunders eyes widen and he focuses on the bindings. Twisting his arms he is able to loosen the rope so he can slip his arms out of them. He makes fast work of the bindings on his ankles and he runs to the bed throwing himself on the prince. Jorza yelps in surprise as his eyes had been closed. Saunders pins his arms and thighs to the bed, his eyes wild.

“There my prince, I have done as you commanded, now it is my turn to command you.” Jorza smiles at the ferocity in Saunders’ face and voice.

“Yes, my soldier.” Saunders spreads his legs, which pushes Jorza’s apart as well. He leans down and licks Jorza’s nipples, sucking them until they are hard and grabbing them with this teeth, pulling them up and letting them sink back down to his chest. Jorza gasps from the feeling as Saunders’ cock slides over his own. Saunders slithers up Jorza’s body and straddles his head.
 
“Suck my cock, Jorza, get it nice and wet for me.”

Jorza nods as Saunders’ cock is thrusting at his lips foregoing a response. Jorza opens his mouth and Saunders dives in, his buttocks tensing as he plunges his cock deep into Jorza’s throat. Jorza’s tongue slides underneath Saunders’ cock, his throat working to take him as deep as he can go. Saunders pulls up and Jorza breathes a quick breath before Saunders’ dives back down. Saunders continues to fuck Jorza’s mouth until his cock is thick with Jorza’s saliva.

“Good prince, catch your breath.” Jorza sucks in deep lungful’s of air as Saunders works his way back down Jorza’s body, his wet cock leaving marks on his chest and abdomen. Saunders settles between Jorza’s legs and spreads them with his hands; he can see the dark spot where Jorza’s anus is and he sucks on his fingers before spreading the wetness around the small hole. He repeats what Jorza had said to him on that first night on the tower stairs:

“Tell me if I am going too fast, or am hurting you. I will stop.”

Jorza nods vigorously as Saunders had and without further ado, Saunders slides inside Jorza. Once fully inside, he pins Jorza’s arms back on the bed and thrusts into him. Jorza shivers and bucks; it feels so good, Saunders’ cock inside of him. He moans and lifts his legs around Saunders’ waist, pushing Saunders even deeper into him. Saunders cries out at the change, but the angle is better and he vigorously fucks Jorza, kissing his lips, biting him and sucking on his tongue. Jorza thrusts with him and the sound of their skin hitting each other makes loud slapping sounds that grow faster and faster as they fuck. Saunders leans back up and pounds even faster, losing his rhythm.

“Cum in me, my soldier, please!” Jorza begs as his cock rubs against Saunders’ lower body.

“Yes, my prince!” Saunders exclaims as he cums. He body convulses from the orgasm, and he slips out of the prince, shooting the last of his seed on the prince’s stomach for him to see. Jorza’s eyes widen and his cock throbs almost painfully to be emptied.

“Let me,” Saunders says as he pants and takes Jorza’s cock into his mouth. Jorza gasps at the contact, the pleasure so intense. Saunders slides his tongue up and down each side of Jorza’s shaft. He wets the first and second fingers of his right hand and plunges them into Jorza’s anus. The prince bucks making his cock go all the way into Saunders’ mouth and down his throat. Saunders’ lips are now touching Jorza’s base. Jorza grabs the back of Saunders’ head and holds him in place as he thrusts his hips. Saunders thrusts his fingers deeper and faster into the prince. Jorza screams his release as his cum rockets down Saunders’ throat and his anus tenses on the fingers inside of him. His body jerks as the last drops leave him and his falls back onto the bed, Saunders’ fingers coming out of him and Saunders gasping for air. Saunders collapses on Jorza’s chest, as he basks in the afterglow.

“Well done, my cub. That was sensational.” Jorza’s eyes flutter from the sleep threatening to overtake him.

“My pleasure, my prince.” Saunders kiss is the last thing Jorza remembers before sleep overtakes him.

Meanwhile, in the village, the politicians sit late that night in a back room of the tavern discussing and plotting. With them is a man draped in a cloak, his face hidden to them.

“And you are sure that you can dispose of the prince?” The mayor of the town asks the hooded figure.

“Yes, I can get near him. It is a disgrace what is happening at the castle and it must be stopped. He has dishonored his family name and is no longer worthy of it.”

“Very well, but what of the soldier that stays with him? Will you be able to subdue him as well?”

“Do not worry, I will deal with him as well.”

“Thank you, stranger…for your trouble.” The mayor tosses down a sack that clinks heavily on the table. The stranger’s gloved hand reaches for the bag and swiftly conceals it within the folds of his cloak.

“This must be done soon, so we may prepare the town for the change.”

“Yes, your Honor. You will know when it is done.” The cloaked figure rises and leaves the room. The politicians watch him, a few fearful of what they have seen. They know this is a man who is not to be trifled with.

A few days later as Saunders is patrolling the castle, Pietr rushes up to him.

“Private Saunders, I was just up by the West walkway and I noticed that one of the catapults has been damaged by the storm.”

Saunders looks out the window near him and notices the sheets of rain and lightning flashing. He looks to the walkway and sees the catapult; the ropes on one of its sides has been cut and it is starting to topple.

“Thank you, Pietr, I will see to it at once.” Saunders runs down the hall. Pietr sprints to the tower and flies up the stairs.

“Your Highness! Please open the door, it is urgent!” Jorza opens the door to see Pietr there panicked.

“Private Saunders has gone onto the walkway to fix a catapult! The storm will overtake him!” Jorza goes down a few stairs and looks out the window. He can see Saunders battling the wind as he edges to the broken catapult. Jorza runs down the rest of the stairs and down the hall after Saunders. Out into the driving rain he goes, his thin shirt and leggings pelted and soaked immediately.

“Saunders!” He roars into the wind, but his voice is driven back to him. He claws his way to the catapult where Saunders is desperately trying to tie the ropes back in place. With Herculean strength, the prince rights the catapult and helps Saunders tie off the ropes. While his back is bent at his work, a cloaked figure has crept up behind him, raising its hand as lightning flashes, illuminating the saber in the assassin’s hand. Saunders looks up from the light.

“Jorza!” He screams, throwing himself onto the prince as the hand comes down. Jorza looks up as Saunders lands on him. Over his shoulder he sees the cloaked figure and his father’s saber in the person’s hand, the red stain on the blade being washed off as the rain pours down.

“NO!” He rises up and lays Saunders down, rushing at the assassin who has raised his arm again. Another lightning flash and Jorza can see inside the cloak….Pietr!

“What are you doing? How could you betray me?” Jorza shouts into the wind.

“You have disgraced us, this castle is in ruins and you cavort with this boy. It is unseemly and your father would be ashamed. It is only right that the last scion of the Szörnyeteg family be brought down by his father’s sword.”

Pietr lashes out with the saber and Jorza dives to the side, his legs skidding off the edge of the walkway. Hugging himself to the side, he grips the wet stone, trying to gain leverage to pull himself up. Pietr walks to him and raises the sword above his head. At that moment, Saunders rams into Pietr’s side, throwing him to the ground. Jorza hurls himself onto the walkway as Saunders collapses again. Pietr springs up and scrambles for the saber. As he bends down to pick up the sword, Jorza runs over and with his paw of a hand swings Pietr and the sword over the edge of the walkway. Pietr howls in surprise and fear as he plunges over the cliff, down to the valley. Jorza watches as the man who had been his most trusted friend falls to his death. He hangs his head in sadness, and turns back to the fallen soldier.

Saunders lies on the wet stones, the rain beating down on him. Jorza huddles over him to stave off the rain.

“My cub, are you all right?” Jorza looks tenderly over Saunders’ body and hugs him to his chest. When his hand comes away from Saunders’ back, he sees that it is covered in red. Shocked, Jorza picks Saunders up and hurries back into the castle.

“Medve!” Jorza roars. The little man comes running as fast he can at his master’s command. Looking at Saunders, his eyes widen.

“Get the medical kit! Hurry! I will be in my tower.” Jorza rushes up the stairs and places Saunders on the bed, and quickly strips him of his coat and shirt, looking at the large gash on Saunders’ back.

“My cub, stay with me. Talk to me!” Saunders’ eyes open slightly, and he smiles weakly at the prince.

“Are you safe? Is the assassin gone?” His words are faint, and Jorza leans down to hear them.

“Yes, my cub. He is gone, flown away. But hush, save your strength. Medve is coming.” Saunders smiles again and closes his eyes from the pain.

“Medve!” Jorza cries again, and the little man appears at his side. The bag in his hand contains thick needles and string, brandy to pour down Saunders’ throat and to wash the wound with, and cloths to sop up the blood. They work in unison stitching the solider back together. Once Saunders is closed and cloths wrapped protectively around him, Medve takes away the soiled clothes and beddings and heaps more blankets on the bed. Jorza builds up the fire until it is roaring and the room is sweltering. Then he climbs into bed and holds the soldier in his arms.
 
“Sleep, my cub, but stay with me. Please, stay with me.” Jorza weeps into the blonde hair as Saunders slowly breathes. Finally, Jorza falls into a troubled sleep.

The next time he wakes, sun is filtering through the windows and the rain has stopped. Jorza looks down at the still form in his arms.

“My cub?” He whispers, looking at the pale face, feeling his wrists and neck for a pulse, but there is none.

The howl that rends the hallways is terrible. Medve cowers in fear at the pain and sorrow in that sound, hidden in a side room. Suddenly, he sees a flash as the prince races by, crazed by the loss. Jorza runs out of the castle and down into the village. He runs into the town hall and seeing the mayor grabs him and shakes him until no life is left in the man. The rest of the politicians, horrified by the violence, flee the area.

The prince destroys the inside of the hall and then lights the building on fire, razing it to the ground. As he stands outside and watches it burn, the villagers run from his anger. He spreads the fire to the rest of the buildings, letting people run ahead of him with their belongings. Only those politicians that he sees are spared no mercy. When the entire village is burnt and all the inhabitants have either fled or been killed, the prince covered in blood and smoke, walks back up to the castle and shuts himself in. Only once does the great front door open as Medve runs out the castle. The prince has let him go and once he is gone, the castle is shuttered and barred again for good.

Jorza goes back to the tower and lays Saunders out fully on the bed, dressing him again in his uniform that Medve has patched and washed. When he is fully dressed, Jorza sits back in his big chair and steeples his fingers under his chin, keeping watch over his cub, and there he stays.

As the years pass, a whisper runs through the surrounding towns that a bear lives in the castle, keeping watch over the ruins of the village at the base of the cliff. No one goes in and no one comes out. They say the castle is cursed, and none are brave enough to venture to the dark castle and the beast they say, that waits inside.