The King's Consort Box Set

The King’s PrizePan knew very little of his home planet, Tansa. Every one of his nineteen years had been spent on the family farm at the edge of the Great Forest. Morning after endless morning he would wake with the sun, eat a simple breakfast, then follow his father into the fields where he’d work long and hard with only a break for lunch before continuing until the sun’s ebb drew long shadows across the furrowed earth. With just enough light to make it home before the pitch of night descended, there was precious little time to devote to personal interests as his three sisters were able to do. After washing the dirt from his face and hands he would eat dinner, brush his teeth then fall into bed, exhausted. At nineteen he felt old. When thoughts of silent despair wove their way into his consciousness, he would push them aside and fantasize about another life, far different to the one he had, never imagining that his dreams would ever be anything other than dreams. * * * * Early one morning, before dawn had broken and while the mist was still thick on the ground, there was a loud knock on the front door. Pan was still lost in dreams, but his mother, Margette, was already preparing breakfast for the family. A slight frown shadowed her eyes as she pulled the door open a crack and peered into the dim morning. She gasped when she saw the small contingent of Hapsid Troopers crowding her front step. These troopers were King Seronisis’ personal soldiers, feared and obeyed by all who lived on Tansa. The hulking ape-like humanoids were not only frightening in appearance—with their beady, black eyes beneath thick-set brows, skin like polished leather covering muscular torsos and powerful arms, and thickly haired buttocks and legs—but they were also creatures of primal instinct. The troopers were a class unto themselves, having been bred and raised for the sole purpose of protecting the king and carrying out his every wish, with no regard for method. Margette pressed her lips together. The King’s Guard made her nervous and there would be no welcome from her until she had discovered the reason for their visit. “We’ve come for your son,” grunted the sergeant, a towering wall of muscle and thick, wiry hair. “Seronisis wants him for the Royal Harem.” Margette hardly knew what to think. The Royal Harem was legendary. It was an incredible honour to become a member of it, not only for the young man in question but also for his entire family. Selection for the Harem was notoriously rigorous. A boy had to be eighteen, attractive and physically fit, though this was not always a guarantee of success. Many fine boys who were brought to the palace were swiftly dispatched back to their villages. “B-but why?” Margette stuttered. “Why did King Seronisis send for my son?” The sergeant shrugged, his face remaining expressionless. “I just carry out orders.” He pushed past Margette and strode into the main room of the cottage. A trio of lesser-ranking troopers shadowed their leader, fanning out to search the other rooms. One pushed into the room where Pan’s sisters were waking up, eliciting screams from the girls and a stern frown from Margette. Another, having found its quarry, unceremoniously shook Pan awake. “What is it? What’s going on?” Pan asked sleepily. “You’re coming with us,” said the trooper. “What’s he talking about?” Pan asked as his mother burst into the room. “You’ve been chosen for the King’s Harem,” she explained, shooting the trooper a dark look. Pan looked from his mother to the Hapsid Trooper and then back at his mother. “And what if I don’t want to go?” he asked as he rubbed the sleep from the corners of his eyes. The trooper folded his arms as his brow came down and his top lip curled at one corner. “Oh dear,” Margette said, clasping her hands together. “You have to go, Pan. You can’t refuse such an honour.” “But I don’t want to leave,” Pan protested. “This is my home, my family. I belong here!” “I know dear,” said Margette as she hugged her beloved. “But Seronisis is our king and he has chosen you. An opportunity like this will never come again, son. You must go.” * * * * Pan nodded silently, the scent of his mother’s perfumed hair in his nostrils. Of course he realised what an honour it was. If he was accepted into the Royal Harem, it would mean his family had the protection of the all-powerful Seronisis for the rest of their days. They could live tax-free and prosper with the extra income. They’d be entitled to enter the sacred palace once a year to visit him. It seemed that Pan’s dreams of a better life were going to come true, for both him and his family. How could he deny them that? After dressing and eating a hurried breakfast, Pan hoisted himself onto the back of the simple wooden cart standing outside the cottage and turned to look at his family. His mother was doing her best to restrain her tears and his father, bronzed and weathered from a life in the sun, comforted her as best he could. His sisters held each other and sobbed in their nightdresses. Then, as the sergeant mounted his horse, Pan waved a final goodbye to his family and watched them growing smaller and smaller as the cart traveled down the dirt track and over the grassy hillock that would take them to the main road. A solitary tear spilled onto his cheek and he did his best to sniff the others back. He was determined to be strong. Bravery was the mark of a man and now was the time to shed any last vestiges of boyhood. Silence marked the first leg of the journey. No words could change his situation or alter the fact that he was already missing those he loved. Through the blur of tears he stared at the increasingly unfamiliar scenery while the troopers talked and grunted amongst themselves. Pan was glad their attentions were otherwise engaged since he was in no mood for conversation. It was his sole desire to be left alone to contemplate the sudden strange turn of events. That evening, as the twin moons of Tansa followed each other into a sky burnt copper by the setting sun, the small group of travellers made camp under the broad, leafy branches of a Banton tree. Pan was lifted down from the cart, stripped and his hands tethered to the wheel of the cart. One of the troopers bound his feet as an extra precaution against escape, though even if Pan were to slip the ropes, he wouldn’t get far naked. Apart from being restricted by his bindings, the troopers treated Pan well. He dined on forest fowl, fruit and nuts and they gave him sweet wine to sate his thirst. Even the gruff-looking sergeant made sure Pan was comfortable by supplying him with a small pillow and although he wasn’t permitted a blanket, he had the warmth of a trooper on either side of him to keep the cool night at bay. Still wary of these beasts, he kept one eye open until he was certain that they had fallen asleep. It seemed he had just closed his eyes when he was awakened by a sharp pain. Tiredness and the unfamiliar setting delayed his awareness of where he was and what was happening, and when he opened his mouth to cry out, a great padded hand reached around from behind and cupped it. “Quiet,” grunted the sergeant. Though this was easier said than done, especially when the sergeant’s massive c**k was sliding in and out of his tight arsehole. “Just enjoy it,” said the sergeant, puffing into his ear. “You’ll have to get used to taking it up the arse if you’re going to join the King’s harem.” Until that evening Pan had been a virgin and while no stranger to m**********n, he’d never experienced the delights of another person’s flesh. Free time was a scarcity on the farm and the opportunity for s****l relations had never presented itself. But now he that was experiencing intercourse firsthand he was in two minds about its attraction. For while the first few moments of penetration had been blindingly uncomfortable, he could feel himself starting to relax. There was still a dull throb as the mighty c**k slid in and out of his arsehole, but the sergeant’s whispered words of encouragement seemed to soothe the ache away. “That feels better now, doesn’t it?” asked the sergeant as Pan’s muscles relaxed around the girth of his thick prick. “Now if I take my hand away, promise you won’t cry out?” Pan nodded. It was obvious that shouting for help would be futile since he was tied up out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by three other troopers, with their leader, the sergeant, buried to the balls inside him. The sergeant removed his hand and placed it on Pan’s naked hip, using it to steady himself as he gently f****d him with his huge black c**k. Despite himself Pan began to enjoy the sensation of having the sergeant inside him, the cockhead rubbing against his prostate and the beast’s wiry pubic hair tickling his fleshy buttocks. He became aware that his breathing had became deeper, more laboured. His lips soon found the flesh of his arm and while the trooper thrust faster and harder, he kissed himself as though his arm were the lips of a lover. Then without any warning he felt the sergeant’s huge, padded hand grip his c**k and begin stroking it. Pan had never felt anything like it before, so firm and yet so pleasurable. The touch of another on his most private part sent shivers rippling through his body. Between the action of the sergeant’s c**k inside him and the bulky, Hapsid hand on his c**k Pan knew it wouldn’t be long before he succumbed to ecstasy. “You want my load?” asked the sergeant. “Your what?” Pan asked naively. “Never mind,” mumbled the sergeant as his body tensed. “Here it comes.” The sergeant squirted his load deep inside Pan’s hole, sending a thick, creamy river of jism splashing across Pan’s bowels, but not once did he break the rhythm of his hand on Pan’s rigid tool. It was due to this consideration that Pan soon felt a sensation stronger than he had ever felt before welling up in the depths of his abdomen. As the sergeant’s hand jerked his c**k faster and faster, he arched his back, groaned and sent a stream of sticky, white c*m shooting over the back of the sleeping trooper in front of him. “The king’s going to like you,” said the sergeant as he slid his dripping c**k from the boy. Pan rolled onto his back as the sergeant settled into the soft grass, a broad smile growing on his face. He could feel a slight trickling sensation between his legs as some of the trooper’s massive load trickled out of his throbbing arsehole and disappeared into the ground below. It somehow flavoured his dreams that night, for when he woke the following morning there was a crusty mess on his inner thigh. For the next three days each of the troopers took turns at the farm boy and his tight pucker. They f****d him because they could, because they were horny from days on the road and because they had to ensure that Pan was ready to receive the king upon arrival. He’d been told it was imperative that he didn’t cry out or utter any word of complaint when the king entered him. It was as grave a faux pas as spitting in his eye and the resultant punishment would be banishment from the Kingdom. The troopers also educated him in the fine art of rimming, teaching him to savour the musty smells of their arseholes by pushing his face, nose-first, into their hairy arse cracks at every opportunity; and guiding him as he licked and tongued their black puckers until their loads erupted over the slender blades of Sluice grass. For the three nights of their journey, he was fingered and f****d and used at their whim as a s****l plaything. Their arrival at the palace gates was heralded by a fanfare from a quartet of trumpeters who stood in the towers on either side of the entrance. Beyond the thick, stone walls there was a flurry of activity as the members of the king’s court and the villagers that worked in the palace congregated at the gates to see the king’s new acquisition. They weren’t disappointed.