On the Queen's Service

This little story of murder and treason includes the sexual use of boys, so all the usual disclaimers apply. If you're not supposed to read such things then you know what you should do. If you're too young to read material of this nature and insist on doing so, then be sure to clean up properly afterwards.
Set in C16th London the tale includes violence of a nature common in that age and mentions the use of boys of tender years – again a matter not uncommon at that time.

Some words may be unfamiliar to some readers for example `swive' was an Elizabethan alternative for `fuck', a `Ganymede' was a boy prostitute, a `molly house' a boy brothel, `bussing' was kissing, and a `bollock dagger' was a fashionable weapon carried by many and is described in the text of the story.

Part The First

Thomas Fletcher ruffled the blond hair of the naked ten year old boy who was kneeling between his parted thighs and sucking cock in a manner most exquisite and skilled for a boy of such tender years.

A smile played about Fletcher's lips, though it was a smile that never reached his eyes, for he was not in this place for pleasure alone. The ministrations of the boy were sufficient to bring a smile to the face of any man, and such smiles were evident on the faces of the other men in the room, all caused in a like manner.

Thomas Fletcher was not in this noted establishment of boy debauchery for pleasure alone, though it were no hardship for him to admit the attentions of the ten year old boy who sucked him most expertly; Thomas Fletcher was on the Queen's business, observing the others who shared his liking of boys.

Two bishops, a minor knight from somewhere in the country, a man known to be a priest of the Roman church, and one writer of plays who was much more than a writer of plays. Each had a naked boy of ten of ten or eleven years on his lap or, like the boy Fletcher was enjoying, between his parted legs and using his young mouth in the manner that boys should use their mouths.

"You have surpassed yourself. Mr. Goodboy," Sir James Rice, the gentleman from the country expressed his satisfaction; "I warrant you should deserve a knighthood for the finding of such exquisite boys for our amusement."

"My thanks, Sir James," the seventh man in the room gave a small bow. He alone did not have a naked boy on his knee or between his legs, but stood instead by a small table with an older boy beside him, a boy naked and of perhaps some thirteen years who assisted in the filling of glasses with wine and of pipes with tobacco. An avuncular looking man whose figure betrayed some evidence of good living, Mr. Goodboy was a man of some considerable means, those means accumulated by the provision of boys for pleasure. "These I have but recently acquired and as yet are but poorly trained, though I see by your gentlemen's faces that they have mastered some small skills."

"This one has an excellent mouth, Goodboy," the writer of plays declared, "Though I have but as yet used it only for my tongue I doubt not it will do good service when it descends to my prick."

"I do indeed hope so, Master Marlow, though I can make no promise as to such for I purchased him only yesterday and yours will be the first prick he has tasted."

"Indeed?" the writer of plays raised eyebrows in some surprise. "I see no signs of the birch upon him. Has he been instructed to use not his teeth?"

"Where find you such boys, Master Goodboy, and how is it that you are able to purchase them? This land knows no slavery and yet you buy boys?" Fletcher knew well the answer to his question, for Master Goodboy operated his house of pleasure with the consent and approval of Mister Secretary, the man who administered the most efficient network of spies in the whole of Europe, the man in whose direct employ Fletcher was.

"I buy them not as slaves, Mr. Fletcher, but as apprenticed boys, indentured to my trade, and I use the word `buy' but loosely, for I do no more than pay their fathers good price for their services."

"It is indeed most thoughtful of the Lord that he should create boys of such charms with fathers so considerate of their futures," one of the bishops smirked and he pushed his boy's head down and under his cassock and emitted a sigh of considerable pleasure when the boy began his ministrations with his mouth.

"And is it not also a wonder of the Lord that the boys so created for Mr. Goodboy to purchase should be made so smooth for our delight and grow not unsightly hair as they age in years?" Marlow wondered aloud as he eyed with some interest the privates of the almost youth who assisted his master in the filling of glasses and pipes.

That almost youth, though by his size and the length of the appendage that dangled freely between his legs, was clearly of an age where hair should have by now grown, was still smooth as the boys who were administering to the comfort of the gathered men, boys who were still short by two or more years from the age at which such hair begins to grow.

"You may call it the goodness of the Lord indeed, Master Marlow," Goodboy smiled unctuously and stroked the firm buttocks of the youth beside him, "For the smoothness of their skin is but the result of knowledge passed in my family, knowledge learned in the monasteries when there were such places before Great Henry rightly ended their existence."

This Fletcher knew to be an untruth, for he knew well where those unctions and creams did come from, but he held his peace for this was no time to talk of such things.

"If learned in those dens of iniquity and satanic vice then it is the work of the Devil and not of God," the bishop, whose cassock was moving up and down with the rhythmic motion imparted by the head of the boy beneath it, declared fervently, though he made no motion to remove the boy from his task.

"Dens of iniquity indeed," the other bishop affirmed as he fondled the young flesh sitting on his knees, "Places of sodomy and vile fornication no less."

"And is this not also a place of sodomy and fornication?" the writer of plays enquired sardonically as he took both pipe and wine from the nearly youth who now moved amongst them, "Though none here will, I conceive, declare that fornication to be vile. What better place, gentlemen, did God create for the the reception of a man's hard prick than the sweet hole of a boy?"

"What think you of Mr.Goodboy's offerings, Sir James? Are they not most sweet and to your taste?" Fletcher was anxious to divert the conversation from the path it was now following; bishops, indeed churchmen all, were men of diverse humours. A bishop may swive a boy with vigour and then condemn the man who had provided that boy for ungodly practise, and that Mr. Goodboy's collection of young flesh was hairless beyond their years was a thing not natural, though most certainly not a thing of the Devil.

"Indeed they are, Mr.Fletcher, and I have nothing but gratitude towards our esteemed Mr.Marlow for bringing them to my notice. I had not hoped to find such sweet meat here in this city." He stroked and squeezed the tightness of the young buttocks of the boy he held, sliding a finger into the crack of his arse causing the boy to stifle a gasp of both surprise and some little pain. "Nor had I thought to find hole so fresh and tight."

"Fresh and tight indeed, Sir James, and is so for the reason that our host permits not the swiving of boys of this age. These, sir, are but our appetisers, the tid-bits before our main repast."

Sir James looked somewhat disconcerted, but Marlow uttered soothing words designed to keep the country knight's fervour for boy flesh alight and his cock hard and urgent.

"Mr.Goodboy, as he has said, Sir James," Marlow said smoothly, "Searches this land for boys of some beauty and teaches them the arts of pleasing a man. He allows none to be swived until they are able to sustain the entry of a prick such as the noble weapon you doubtless possess, for he wishes no harm to come to them. And fear not, good sir," Marlow continued, noting the beginnings of a frown on the face of the country knight, "That the boy he will present you for swiving will be one of any advanced years. No boy here is of an age beyond fourteen years and all will be, as you will doubtless later confirm, the best fuck you have ever had."

"That, indeed, Sir James, is beyond any question of doubt," one of the bishops confirmed with a lick of his fleshy lips. You will find not a Ganymede in London can fuck as well as the boys of Mr. Goodboy."

"And no shit on your prick, sir," Marlow said, accepting a taper from the almost youth to light his pipe, "And that is a thing most to be commended is it not?"

"I mind not the shit," the knight shrugged, "For that can be washed off, but to my way of thinking the hole that shit comes from should be tight enough to give pleasure and not a gaping maw like the cunny of a whore."

"I know not of cunnys," Marlow shrugged in his turn, "For I have ever but used the holes of boys. What think you, Mr. Southwell? Are not the boys in this establishment as fine as any in Seville?"

Fletcher tensed at Marlow's words, his fingers gripping tight the hair of the boy who was so expertly suckling him, causing the lad to look up fearfully, lest his teeth had inadvertently scraped the skin of the engorged member in his mouth, a crime that he knew well would earn him stripes from the birch on his tender naked flesh.

That Marlow was, like himself, a small spider in the great web of Walsingham was a thing Fletcher knew well enough, but of his purpose here he knew nothing. That Southwell was a papist priest was a thing well known, but he was a priest considered, or so Fletcher believed, harmless, not of the Jesuit persuasion.

Did Marlow know otherwise? Was he here to trap Southwell, reveal, in no matter how small a way, that he was indeed a Jesuit, one dedicated to the removal of the Virgin Queen and replacing her with her cousin queen from Scotland?

Seville was a seminary known to train such priests and send them to England to do their evil work; it was surely not a city to name at random.

Southwell, though, seemed in no manner disconcerted, smiling easily at Marlow, a smile that entered his eyes as well as turning his lips.

"Surely a man as travelled as you, Mr. Marlow," he replied, "Has had experience of the boys of Seville? They are famed throughout the whole of Spain, and surely beyond for they are the true heirs of the boy harems of the Musslemen who ruled there for so many centuries.
I am but a poor scholar, gentlemen," he said to the two bishops who looked with frowns of distaste at him for mentioning the heathens who had been driven from Spain a hundred years and more ago, "But even I have read of the Mussleman's addiction to the flesh of boys for pleasure. `Women are for duty and boys are for pleasure' was, I understand, their greatest creed, and though we may rightly revile their worship of a false god, surely we must concur with their views on the nature of boys?"

Fletcher relaxed, patting the blond head of the ten year old boy who was pleasuring him to reassure him that all was well and that he should resume his ministrations.

"Boys have I had from France and the Low Countries, even from the Germanies, but as yet none from Spain," Marlow shrugged. "Nor have I sampled the flesh of one with black skin or brown, though I must confess that I am fain to do so."

"And all, I am certain, would give pleasure," Southwell smiled, "For I myself have sampled both black and brown and have nothing but admiration for their charms. You must know, sir, that the arse of the black is not as the arse of the European. It rides higher and is more rounded and firm, the muscle stronger and grips most wonderfully the prick that enters it."

"I hear say the king of the Scots is much enamoured of boys," the country knight observed, "A proper diversion for a monarch think you not?"

Again Fletcher tensed, his attention now on the conversation more than on the mouth of the boy who sucked him. This knight was the subject of his investigation; a knight from the wilds of Wiltshire, unknown to Mister Secretary who wished much to know why he had come to London. Boys were there to be had in plenty in country places so it was not the lure of Ganymedes had brought him to the city. Was it that he was part of a faction that would have James as successor to the English throne?

On the morrow he would know more for Mr. Goodboy had, at Fletcher's request, assigned a boy for the knight's amusement, a boy well versed in the extraction of secrets.

Harry was a comely, slender boy now of fourteen years though he would be easy mistaken for one two years at least younger. He was so adept in his art that any man would think he swived a virgin when he entered Harry's hole of delight, and his words of admiration and enjoyment were so innocently delivered that few men there were who would hold in their secrets when they shared a bed with him. Young Harry would suck the secrets from a man's soul as easy as he sucked seed from his prick.

"I think I must depart, gentlemen," Fletcher spoke in resigned tones. "You must know that I am servant to the Queen and it is not meet that I should hear words of politic spoke, for my duty bids that them I must report.
Let me not hinder your discussions nor your pleasures. I bid you all good eve and wish you much enjoyment."

On the morrow he would send Stick, his servant boy, to the establishment of Mr. Goodboy, and Stick would return with all the knowledge young Harry had obtained.

Stick was more than a mere servant boy, he was also apprentice to Fletcher in the secret world of spying, `intelligencing' as Mr. Secretary was wont to name it, and he was also catamite to Fletcher and performed that function most admirably.

`Stick', Fletcher had named him when he encountered him at the house of Mr. Goodboy four years before when the boy was but twelve years of age. Tall for his age he was also devoid of any spare flesh, a boy who, though thin, had most shapely thighs, a wide mouth and an organ that matched his body to perfection.

Long and thin it had been at twelve and now, at sixteen, it was longer still – the length of a man's hand and the thickness of a thumb. It was an organ Fletcher took great delight in having thrust inside him for he much liked to be used so by boys in the same wise as boys like to be used by men.

Mr.Goodboy disposed of his boys when the reached their fifteenth year of age; disposed of them but not by discarding them. All his boys were found positions of some note and purpose, as catamites to men of wealth and influence in the most part, and Fletcher had early laid claim to Stick and the boy, being one who wished to use his prick like a man as well as his arse like a boy, accepted his fortune with great willingness.

That his duties included visits to his former place of employ where he would fuck boys younger than himself and discover all that they had learned while they fucked was a task he found most congenial.

 

"I will take supper in my solar, Jane," Fletcher informed his servant girl when he returned to his home.

Jane was a comely wench of nineteen summers who felt herself most fortunate in finding employ with Mr. Fletcher. That her master was one who found no interest in the female form and very considerable interest in the form of his apprentice concerned her not at all.

"Will that be for you alone, Sir?" she enquired and when told that it was not, but would be supper for Stick as well, she smiled sweetly and knew to add an extra helping of butter to the plate.

"Mr. Fletcher has a dagger of some considerable thickness," Stick had confided to her one afternoon, "And butter greatly assists in its sheathing."

"Robert needs no butter," she had giggled in reply to this information, "And he owns greatly more than a mere needle."

That Jane could tease so was from the fact that, when once they had shared wine together, Stick had revealed that he had been taken by Mr.Fletcher as servant, apprentice and catamite for that his prick was most long and slender, "More needle than dagger," he had grinned, "Though the master does greatly like the way I sew with it."

Stick and Jane kept no secrets of the bedroom between them, for Jane changed and washed bed sheets and bed sheets can keep no secrets. For Jane, being in the employ of a bachelor man of some means and some comeliness and not being obliged to part her legs as part of that employ was greater fortune that she had believed possible, for though she objected not the least to the parting of her legs, it was rare indeed for a servant girl to choose for whom she parted them.

She shared her stories of her romps with Robert, and others also before him, freely with Stick, whom was equally free with his accounts of his own amorous adventures and many times had they giggled delightedly in the kitchen over a mug of beer when their master was away on business.

"Surely," she had said to Stick, "You have been fucked times enough to have no need now of butter?"

"True it is," Stick had giggled, "That a little spit would be sufficient, but a man wishes for the hole of a boy to be tight as can be, so I clench mine closed and pretend to yield only to his thrusting when the butter makes all so slippery that entry cannot be prevented."

"And a royal mess it does make of the sheets," Jane had giggled, "None could doubt what it is you do in that bed."

"And none but a fool would think you are a maid with legs unparted," Stick had giggled in reply and their friendship had been thus forged; two young persons of differing sexes who took both great and uncomplicated pleasure in being young with never a thought that either would desire to impose such pleasure upon the other.

Stick, though now a youth of sixteen summers and some months, had never a single misgiving thought that he was catamite, for he had from the first moment found great satisfaction in that his young body was an object of delight to men. Indeed, if truth be told, his young mind had held thoughts of such a nature even before Mr. Goodboy had purchased him from his impoverished parent when he was but ten years of age.

A man well versed in his chosen profession, Goodboy had seen much potential profit in the tall and skinny boy, indications that the fair haired and bright eyed creature would much welcome the service he had been indentured to.

So had it been, and the ten year old boy had no need of the birch to encourage him in his perfection of his duties as others oft did, for he took to those duties with unfeigned eagerness and the ministrations of his young hands and mouth were in much demand by the gentlemen who frequented Mr. Goodboy's establishment.

He had come to the attention of Thomas Fletcher in such a wise before he had yet reached his eleventh summer, his cock, though yet ungrown, longer by half a finger than other boys his age, and thinner also; a cock that raised much lust in the breast of Mr. Fletcher.

Thus, though he be yet a year or more before the age at which he could spurt seed, he learned what wonder it is for a prick to enter hole, for Mr. Fletcher was one who liked much to have a boy enter him and this Stick did many times and with much enthusiasm also, for he was a boy who liked all things to do with prick and hole, but mostly he liked when it was his prick that serviced hole.

It had been agreed, before he was even twelve, that when his time of indenture to Mr.Goodboy was complete, he would enter service with the man he fucked so frequently; enter service as man servant, apprentice intelligencer and, most important of all, as catamite, duties he fulfilled with all the enthusiasm of youth.

"I have a task for you on the morrow, Stick," Fletcher informed him as he led the way from the solar to the bedchamber bearing candle in one hand and the plate with the extra butter in the other, for that young mouth at Mr. Goodboy's had raised in Fletcher a great need to swive, and this night he would make use of his catamite's arse and not his cock.

"Another task have I to perform before the morrow," Stick grinned as he eyed the plate of butter, for he was in no way disconcerted that he was the one to be swived this night. Though much he liked to use his prick, still was he boy enough to relish the thrusting of his master's thick dagger in his receptive sheath.

The bed did creak much and groan and post did knock against the wall, for Mr. Fletcher was in a much aroused mood and his thrustings were most vigorous and prolonged also, for he was a skilful swiver of boys and could restrain the spilling of his seed until both man and boy were bathed in sweat and had no more the energy to rise and fall.

That the noises of the bed could leave no doubt in the mind of any below who heard, and none below could fail to hear unless they be stone deaf, as to the use that bed was being made of concerned Fletcher not at all, for he gave it no thought, and for Stick it was a matter of some small amusement and a resolve to search most carefully the food served on the morrow. Jane had confessed, amongst their giggled secrets, that the sounds from above when swiving happened, as it did most nights, did make her cunny moist and wet, and having Robert not in attendance on her had led to her discovery that there is use other than in cooking for carrots, a use Stick knew well, for did not Mr. Goodboy train the holes of his young boys in a like manner?

Their swiving complete, boy and man moved to a more congenial part of the large bed, for seed did drip from Stick's well used sheath and mingle there with his own seed, for always Mr. Fletcher fucked his so completely that his seed was made to flow, and that more than once while he groaned and panted in response to the bowel filling thrusts of his master.

"On the morrow, Stick," Mr. Fletcher informed the boy while he still ran appreciative hands over the slender frame and wondrously smooth thighs of his catamite, "I would have you repair to Mr.Goodboy's and there learn from young Harry all that Sir James did impart to him, for I am much intrigued to know why that country knight should be come to London. Treason and plots abound and Sir James appears one who would have the King of Scots upon the throne of England."

This task was not one Stick had aversion to, for Harry had the sweetest of arses, and even drained as he now was, Stick found pleasure in the prospect of entering there once more.