The Ways of Young Noblemen, Part I

 

Author's Note: This story contains graphic depictions of sexual encounters between adult men, adult men and boys, and between boys. Do not read this story if it is illegal in your jurisdiction to do so or if you have any moral objections to the content. The author does not advocate, nor condone in any way, sexual activity with, or the sexual exploitation of, minors in real life. This is fiction, a protected form of expression. Nothing said in this story should be taken to indicate any form of support for sexual conduct with minors nor for child pornography. Anything sexual involving minors should be constrained solely to the world of literary fiction, where the characters exist only in the minds of the author and readers, never acted upon or condoned in real life.

This story is set in an historical fictional environment in which sexually transmitted diseases do not exist. As always, in real life, please practice safe sex with consensual, adult, partners. This story is purely a work of historical fiction, and any similarity between real people, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.

Finally, this is part of a series which explores love, belonging, growth, and relationships. Though sexual themes and elements will be present in every story, not every installment will have graphic sexual scenes.

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The sun was just rising over the horizon when the carriage finally stopped outside the palace. For several days I had been traveling, en route from my former post in Paris to London. I had arrived late last night, too late to be announced at the palace. Instead, I took a room at a local rooming house and made my way back to the palace first thing in the morning.

I was in England again, my beloved home, at the request of King Edward. Though I had not met my king before, having been in Paris for the past eight years, and he having only been on the throne for four years, I knew him by reputation. Englishmen in France, and even several of the French court, had described him as handsome, wise, kind, generous, and very permissive of the sexual escapades of his court. He inspired loyalty and confidence among the English, and a bit of fear and envy among the French.

Stepping from the carriage, I was greeted by a footman in royal livery. The teen boy wore a black velvet coat, trimmed in silver thread and white pearls, and bearing the king's personal badge – a silver eagle, wearing a golden crown and carrying in each talon a red rose.

"I believe His Majesty is expecting me," I said to the teenager, who politely nodded and headed off to announce my presence to the king.

Another footman, a boy of similar age and stature to the first, escorted me in to the castle. Even at this early hour, with the sun rising so early come summer, the castle was abuzz with activity. Courtiers from every corner of England, and many from abroad, mixed and mingled among the candle-lit stone hallways. In the distance, I recognized a young Earl with whom I had grown up in the northern parts of the country, near the Scottish border. I nodded my head at him when he looked my way, but he must not have seen me. He was, it seemed, too busy sliding his hand up the skirt of a young noble girl, his fingers probing for her youthful mound. Though she was beautiful, she was not to my tastes. I smiled, still, at the blatant display of sexuality.

I found a place against a wall and waited for a footman to come get me, to tell me if the king had arisen yet and would see me. It seemed his court rose early. Or, I quickly surmised, they were still partying from the night before and hadn't realized that the sun was on its ascent rather than decent.

"Mister Telfer," the first footman said, returning to me several minutes later. "The king will see you. He asks your indulgence, as he has just recently risen and is still in his dressing gown."

"Of course, that is not a problem," I replied, stepping in to a quick pace next to the boy. "I am the king's servant, and it is his prerogative to present himself however he deems fit."

This seemed to please the teen, who smiled and nodded in agreement.

He led me down the palace halls, around sharp corners and up a steep set of stairs towards the king's private chambers. The courtiers were not often to be found in this section of the palace, and it was blissfully calm and quiet. After a few minutes' silent journey, we arrived at a set of solid wooden doors, emblazoned simply with two letters beneath a gold crown. The letters "E R," for "Edward Rex" or "Edward, the King," were the royal cypher. It announced to any and all that this room, and anything else on which it had been placed, belonged to the king.

The footman knocked once and opened the door, escorting me inside.

"Your Majesty," the footman began, "Mr. Thomas Telfer."

"Ah, come in Mr. Telfer," the king said, standing from the chair he had been occupying. Beside him sat a cup of tea, obviously his morning ritual. The blonde king, who in person was a beautiful sight to behold, smiled at me and welcomed me warmly. He was dressed simply in a nightshirt with a red velvet dressing gown over it. I felt out of place seeing the king of England dressed so intimately, but if His Majesty desired to dress that way in my presence, then it was not my place to argue. I may have been born in to wealth, but I was not titled; he was, after all, royalty and, thus, my better.

He invited me to sit in the chair opposite him, next to which a cup of tea had been placed for me. It was a small gesture, but a kind one that only served to reaffirm that the rumors of His Majesty's gentle spirit were not out of place. Nervously, I took my seat near my young, beautiful, king.

"Tell me, Mister Telfer," the king began, "how long have you worked at educating and minding young boys?"

"Well, Your Majesty," I replied, my head bowed in reverence and respect ever-so-slightly, "for the past eight years, I was the private tutor and caregiver of the dauphin, now king, of France. Prior to that, I tutored and minded King Juan Miguel of Spain for six years, when he was the crown prince, of course. I have dedicated my life, my lord, to the care and education of the future heads of Europe. My first appointment was for two years, beginning when I was not even twenty, to the son of the Duke of Suffolk. It was there I caught the attention of the late King, your father, who introduced me to His Majesty of Spain's father."

"And you feel you can do a thorough job educating my son, Prince Henry?" The king asked, feeling me out to be certain that I was good enough for the crown prince of England.

"Absolutely, my lord. If Your Majesty wishes to engage me in your service, I will dedicate my every minute to the education, care, and comfort of the prince."

"And what subjects do you teach?"

"All subjects, my lord. I am fluent in Latin, as well as Spanish and French. I must admit, my German is a bit lacking, however. I also am quite conversant in literature, poetry, religion, and philosophy. But, my specialty is in training young princes for the roles they will take on as kings. I teach them proper court etiquette, both what will be expected of them and what they should expect from those who serve them. I also teach them how to be good and proper husbands to their future queens. My goal is to make them in to proper men."

"All admirable, Mister Telfer," the king said, nodding his approval.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," I replied, thankful at the king's approval of my plan.

"When can you begin?" he asked, clearly agreeing to take me on.

"Right away, my lord. My appointment to the court of France is completed and I have no boys in my care at the moment. Young Prince Henry will be my only charge."

"Excellent," King Edward said, rising to his feet and walking across the sitting in room in which the two of us were meeting. "My son's previous tutor, unfortunately, was too advanced in years to keep up with the demands of a young man, such as Henry. I have paid him a handsome stipend to see him in to his retirement, but I knew that I could not leave my son untutored. You are what, Mister Telfer? Thirty-five years of age?"

He opened a door and whispered something to a different livery-clad footman outside the door. He then closed the door and turned to me, a warm and congenial smile on his face.

"Thirty-six, to be exact Your Majesty. My birthday has just recently passed."

"Excellent. Then you should have many years ahead of you still. Tell me, how do you feel about teaching more than one charge at a time?"

"More than one, Your Majesty?" I asked, genuinely curious. "Forgive me, my lord, but I was under the impression that Your Majesties only had one son, young Prince Henry."

"Oh, you are quite right there," he said with a smile. "But, I speak of the son of the Duke of Cambridge."

"Oh yes, Lord Philip. I had heard that the young lord was staying here at the palace while His Grace was in Scotland. I am quite happy to teach any young boy that Your Majesty wishes, of course."

"Perfect!" he exclaimed quite happily. "Cambridge and I have been close since our childhood days. As you know, his mother was Princess Anne, my father's sister. And, with Cambridge away on a diplomatic mission for me, I have agreed to provide for his son's care. I would love for you to tutor both boys."

As he finished his pronouncement, the footman opened the door and escorted the young prince and lord in to the sitting room. Prince Henry was the spitting image of his father, King Edward. His blonde hair shown like a field of golden wheat in the afternoon sun, and his blue eyes sparkled like water from the clearest lake in all of England. At thirteen years of age, his skin still retained the youthful glow of all young boys; a glow that seems to emanate from within. He stood just a hair under five feet tall, a bit short for his age (though in keeping with the stature of his father who, at age twenty-nine, was just barely five and a half feet tall). However, like his father, the short stature was more than made up for by a commanding presence and dignified expression worthy of the royal blood which coursed through his veins.

Standing next to the prince, a bit shyer than his cousin and friend, was twelve year-old Lord Philip of Cambridge. Having inherited his looks from his mother, the younger sister of the Duke of Milan, his olive-colored skin and raven hair made the young boy look mysterious and, admittedly, a bit dangerous. His shy countenance and withdrawn attitude softened his otherwise exotic appearance.

"Henry, Philip," the king said, turning to the young boys, "this is Mister Telfer. He will be your new tutor and caregiver."

"Pleased to meet you, Mister Telfer," Prince Henry said, sticking out his in a very formal greeting. "I'm Henry, Prince of England."

"Now, none of that," King Edward said, snapping a bit at his son. It wasn't harsh, but was forceful enough to get the young boy's attention. "Mister Telfer may not have been born in to the titles you boys were, my son. But, as he is to be your tutor and caregiver, he is in charge."

I had to admit, hearing the king give such clear expectations of obedience to his son helped alleviate a worry I always had with princes. While tutoring the prince, now king, of Spain, there was always a battle. His father, the late king, essential let royal protocol dictate the tutoring. While I was able to, somewhat, bring young Juan Miguel to heel and get him to heed my instructions, it was always a battle of tutor versus prince, of non-titled adult versus royal youth. The daily battles with Juan Miguel nearly ended my desire to tutor. I accepted the position in the court of France reluctantly. Luckily, the then-king of France made sure that the young Stefan, then dauphin, understood that his title meant nothing when he was in my care.

Turning to Philip, and then back to Henry, the king continued addressing both boys.

"You will show him the utmost respect and humility, remembering that when it comes to your education, he outranks everyone but me. I will not abide the use of titles, honorifics, or protocol. To him, you are simply Henry and Philip, not Prince Henry and Lord Philip. If I find that you attempted to use your titles to get around his commands or rules, there will be very harsh punishments coming to you. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir," the boys answered in unison, one voice carrying their unquestionable obedience to the king.

"Good. Now that the matter is settled, I think it time we get you boys ready for your journey to the estate I have set aside for your education. Since I expect you to leave your stations behind, I feel it best you leave the trappings of your stations behind as well."

"As you wish, Your Majesty," I said, bowing slightly as I did, confused as to what he meant.

"I have some clothing that I shall wish the boys to wear in your company; clothing that is certainly fine and well-presented, but will not give away to outsiders that the boys come from noble and royal birth," the king stated quite matter-of-factly.

The king seemed to consider me for a moment, and then smiled. There was something there, behind the smile, that caught my attention. The king was certainly a handsome man, but his features always seemed passive. He rarely let on what he was thinking, much to the dismay of those with whom he negotiated. King Edward was shrewd, that was certain, and his seeming passivity served him well.

Now, however, there was something bubbling to the surface. It was a bit devious, if my estimations were correct. The half-smile at the corner of his mouth, the glint in his pale blue eyes, the way he licked his lips ever-so-slightly; all seemed to point to a thought just below the surface.

The king smiled deviously, turning to the footman in the room and dismissing him with a wave of his hand. "I think I should like to help you get the boys ready. Would that be alright?"

"Of course, Your Majesty," I said without thought. I did not know what the king had in mind, but one does not tell a sovereign "no" if one wishes to keep in his good graces.

The king walked across the room to the door, sliding a bolt in to place to lock it tightly. There, he removed the dressing gown he had been wearing. Clad only in a thin night gown, one thin enough to indicate that His Majesty wore nothing else underneath it, he returned to my side.

As he walked, I could see a heaviness beneath the fabric of his nightgown. The thin material showed off every bounce of his sizeable manhood. The king may only be five and a half feet tall, but what he carried between his legs more than made up for his stature. I knew, and had known since early childhood, that I was attracted to men and boys. My own tutor had, when I was a boy of Henry's age, taught me how my body works. He had slowly and gently stroked my young cock, bringing me to my first wet orgasm. Soon thereafter, I had done the same to him and a few other boys he had brought in to assist in my learning.

But, to have those feelings directed toward the king? Such a thing was not wise, no matter how attractive the sovereign was. So, I watched as his thick and hefty cock bounced with every step, but I kept my admiration to myself.

"So, perhaps we could each disrobe and redress one of the boys. What say you to that?" the king asked me, returning to his chair and gesturing for me to return to mine.

"Very well, Your Majesty," I said, nodding in agreement to his suggestion. "Which boy would you like each of us to undress, sir?"

"I think I shall undress my son, and you can care for Philip here," he said matter-of-factly, gently guiding the young prince to stand between his legs.

I did the same with young Philip, pulling him over to stand between my legs. Luckily, the heavy weight of the robe I wore in my role as a tutor worked well at hiding the otherwise obvious firmness the sight of His Majesty's cock had caused in me.

I began to unbutton Philip's velvet coat, a beautiful white garment trimmed in black thread and gold studs. It was apparent, from the coat alone, that Philip was a boy of high class and status. Once unbuttoned, I pulled it off of him gently, leaving him in a white shirt and black breeches. The shirt came next, a silk so fine that it felt weightless in my hands.

I admired the smoothness of the boy's chest for a moment, the naturally tan complexion of his skin hinting to his Italian parentage. Without thinking, I ran my hand down his body from his chest to his flat, silky-smooth, belly. I felt Philip take in a sharp breath of air when I did. As I looked to his face, I could see that he had closed his eyes and was enjoying the attention.

Stealing a glance over at the king, I caught sight of him admiring Henry in a similar way. His hand caressed the ivory pale skin of his young son, his fingers gently teasing at the boy's nipples. Like Philip, Henry had closed his eyes and seemed to be enjoying the touch.

"Tell me, Mister Telfer," the king said, his hands moving down to start untying the prince's breeches, "do you teach anatomy?"

"Yes, Your Majesty," I said, reaching down to begin untying Philip's as well.

"And sexuality?"

"Yes, I do. I believe it essential that a young boy know how his body works."

"I agree. You are quite wise, Mister Telfer. I think I have made an excellent choice to bring you on. Henry's last tutor, though quite educated in many other subjects, did not share my opinion on that subject."

"May I speak freely, Your Majesty?"

"Yes, of course," he replied, just as I finished untying Philip's breeches. At nearly the same moment, the king finished on Henry as well. Together, we lowered the boys' garments to the floor and helped them step out of them. There the boys stood, wearing only their hose – tight garments that showed off the curves and bulges of youthful bodies.

"I believe that, as grown men, it is our responsibility to teach the younger generation of boys what their bodies can do. We should teach them how their bodies work, how to take care of them through proper exercise and diet, and how their bodies can both give and receive pleasure. Then, in turn, they will take our places when we are old and pass this knowledge along to their sons. It is the job of the older generation to fully prepare, in every way possible, the younger generation for life as adults. The male body is a gift from God and I intend, with Your Majesty's approval, to leave no stone unturned in the boys' education in this matter."

"Well said," the king commented, his eyes moving for the first time from Henry's nearly nude physique. He looked at me with a smile on his lips, and a devilish sparkle in his eyes. "You seek my approval, and my approval you have."

I met the king's eyes, and in that moment, I knew that he and I were on the same page; a shared philosophy of education, sexuality, and the roles of men and boys.

I turned my attention back to Philip, slowly unfastening the hose from his waist. The buttons on the hose at his hips were easy to remove and quickly, with little fanfare or warning, the fabric fell away and revealed a fully nude young boy.

The smooth skin of Philip's body continued down to his groin, where I found a soft, circumcised penis nestled atop to beautifully round balls in a hairless sack. He was the perfect specimen of boyhood, and I felt my own cock harden further and twitch at the sight of his beauty. I placed my hands on his hips and admired the view of nude youth.

"Beautiful, aren't they?" the king asked, breaking me from my revelry.

I looked over to see the young prince equally as nude, his own smooth boyhood sticking straight out from his body; cut, hard, about four inches in length, very thick for his age, and equally as hairless as Philip.

"Yes, Your Majesty, quite beautiful indeed," I said, honestly though a bit unsure of how much to admit to His Majesty about my love of young boys.

"And it looks," the king continued, his hand wandering down and very gently wrapping his hand around the prince's member, "that my son already has an idea of what this part of his body is for. Do you, my son?"

"Yes, father," the boy responded, his eyes half closed and his words nearly breathless. "It is for getting a girl pregnant."

"Oh, my son," the king cooed, "it is for that, but it is for so much more."

I could feel my own charge, young Philip, breathing harder between my knees. Without thinking, I moved my hand down to the boy's crotch, mimicking the king's actions on his son. A sharp intake of breath from the young noble boy was accompanied by a very quick hardening of his boyhood.

"Do you know what else this is used for?" the king continued, his hand gently beginning to stroke the boy back and forth.

"I...I think so..." the boy responded, his eyes closed and his breaths short and quick. "I think it's also for bringing me pleasure when I...oh, father...that feels good."

That last line caught me off guard, and I turned my attention fully to the king, who had his eyes already trained on me. We locked gazes, our hands matching in rhythm and speed on our boys' young cocks.

"Yes, that's right, son. Your cock can bring so much pleasure, to yourself and others."

The boys moaned in unison, their cocks getting attention, perhaps for the first time, from someone other than themselves.

"I am sure," the king finally said after nearly a solid minute of silent stroking, "that Mr. Telfer will be teaching you boys all about what your cocks can do."

Turning to me, he concluded his statement with a pointed "won't you, Mr. Telfer?"

"Absolutely, Your Majesty," I did not hesitate to reply.

"Good. Then, perhaps it is time we dress the young boys and get you all on your way."

Rising from his seat, the king began to stride across the room toward a standing wardrobe at the other end of the room. I could see his own massive erection pointing straight out, pulling at the fabric of his thin nightgown. The circumcised head was beautifully draped in the silky material the king slept in. A wet spot – a sizeable wet spot – had turned the front of his gown nearly transparent, and my eyes were transfixed by the length, girth, and beauty of the king's cock. The way it moved as he walked, the way the wet spot highlighted the beautiful tip, and the way he was completely unashamed to let me and the boys see it; it was all mesmerizing.

I removed myself from my seat and joined the king at the wardrobe. He opened it and displayed a wealth of silk shirts, hosen, dressing gowns, and velvet and silk robes. Pulling two of the robes out, His Majesty handed one to me. He held a cream-colored robe, trimmed in gold and handed me a blue one, trimmed in silver.

"I believe these should fit the boys, don't you Mr. Telfer?" the king asked his eyes alight and his manhood still firm and pointed directly at me. It was apparent that the king was enjoying getting the boys ready for my tutelage. It seemed that the king was a bit of a man, and boy, lover. This was a pleasant surprise for me, and I hoped that it would lead to more later.

We returned to the boys, their nudity still on display and their young boyhoods still erect and pointed straight out from their bodies. The king returned to Prince Henry and I returned to young Phillip, eager to touch him again and get him ready for our long journey to the countryside.

Sliding the blue robe over the young lord's nude body, I took a moment to relish in the softness of his skin. It was so supple, smooth, and perfect. From the corner of my eye, I could see His Majesty doing the same to the prince, though his hands seemed to be mostly focused on the prince's round, bubble-shaped, behind.

Once both boys were buttoned in to their new robes, and still fully nude beneath them, I heard the king whisper to his son.

"Take care to listen to Mr. Telfer's instructions, my son. He is in charge, and you are to obey him as you obey me. Anything he tells you to do, you are to do. Do you understand, my son?" the king asked, his eyes locked steadily on Henry's.

"Yes, father, I understand," the prince said quietly and softly.

"Good boy," the king replied, kneeling down to be face to face with the prince. "Now, give me a kiss before you leave."

In front of me and young Phillip, the king's lips met his son's. Both royals parted their lips gently, and I watched as the king gently slipped his tongue in to the prince's mouth. The prince moaned and closed his eyes as the two kissed passionately, like lovers and not father and son.

"Now, you three should be off. It is a long journey to the estate," the king said, escorting Henry toward the door. I followed his lead, leading Phillip toward our exit.

"Take the boys to the carriage," the king said to a footman as he opened the door. "Be sure they are comfortable. I will send Mr. Telfer down shortly."

"Yes, Your Majesty," the teen boy replied politely and diligently. He took the boys, one hand for each, and led them down the corridor toward the stairs and, eventually, the courtyard in which my carriage was waiting.

"One last thing," the king continued, turning his attention to me. "Please take good care of my son and Phillip, Mr. Telfer. They are very important to me."

"Yes, Your Majesty," I said, earnestly and honestly. "I will care for them as though they were my own sons."

"Good, Mr. Telfer. Also, please remember that young boys are highly sexual beings. I have no doubt that you can handle that. I will be checking on you periodically to...test...their progress." With that, he grabbed my hand and placed it on his hard, gorgeous, royal cock.

"Of course, my lord. Your presence will be most welcome," I said, gulping and feeling my own cock stiffen and begin to leak precum down the inside of my robe.

"Very good, Mr. Telfer. Now, you should be on your way." The king pulled away and opened the door, escorting me out and letting his footmen clearly see his erection.

I began down the hall toward the stairs when I heard the king speak softly to a footman.

"Come in, please. I need your services," he said to a small, soft, and young-looking footman. As I turned, I saw the king smile at me and close the door.

Once downstairs, I found my young charges awaiting me in the carriage. They were so beautiful, so innocent, and I couldn't wait to get started.

"Onward, please," I said to the driver as I closed the door to the carriage and settled in for our long journey.