The drug had performed exactly as the witch had said it would. Within ten minutes, the bare-chested Prince lay immobile on the floor: the panic in his blue eyes the only sign of consciousness.
“Now I know you can hear me, your Highness, so I shall continue to chat to you as I clean you up, safe in the knowledge that you're unable to reply.”
Alexander started at the waistband, and slowly began to peel Felix’s filthy tights down those muscular thighs. The dried up food left its residue around the Prince’s ass and groin, but eventually Alexander succeeded in rolling the entire garment down Felix’s prone body, and finally tugged the tights off his feet. He discarded the crusty hosiery, and rolled the Prince onto his front. He paused a moment once again to drink in the sight of those flawless buttocks, and then, taking a flannel and a bowl of soapy water, began to wash Felix’s most intimate parts.
“Let’s get all this dirty food off your bottom, your Highness,” he murmured. “I’ll start by wiping your peachy little bum: getting nice and deep into the crack of your arse with my damp cloth, and getting rid of that nasty gunk that’s been lingering there. If only you could speak, I imagine you’d be thanking me over and over for my solicitude, no?”
“Who’d have thought it, eh? All that time you had me at your mercy - chained in that dank dungeon, destined to starve - one day the tables would turn and I’d have access to every intimate nook and cranny of this beautiful body of yours. That I would cradle your balls in my palm like this, playing with them, perhaps giving them a little squeeze - just to remind you who’s in charge…
“Wiping your royal prick with a damp cloth, perhaps rubbing it up and down, just to get you a little bit hard. But not vigorously enough to actually allow you to cum. Scraping my fingernail along the tender flesh beneath your ball sack, and up between your arse. How does it feel to be entirely at my mercy, your Highness? Totally awake and completely unable to resist. And who knows how long this will go on for? We’ve dispensed with young Raymond, but I think you may have to accept that your position as my fucktoy will last for the rest of your life, my young Prince.”
“There we go, nice and clean. I’ll even give your tense leg muscles a little massage. Aren’t I kind, eh? Oh you do have some knots in there. I can’t imagine why you’re so wound up. There are many boys who would be more than delighted to spend time as my sex slave, you know…”
‘Now, I have some good news for you. You’re going to get your arse stuffed again. Oh yes you are. I know you have to go through the motions of pretending to hate it, but you know deep, deep down there’s nothing you enjoy more than me filling your boycunt, is there? And I don’t particularly enjoy playing with a dirty chute, so I think we’ll make sure you’re well douched first. I have a bowl of soapy water right here, after all. Waste not, want not, eh?”
Alexander picked up the bulb douche from the cabinet and filled it with soapy water from the bowl. He lubricated the tip efficiently with lard and, parting the royal bum cheeks, penetrated the Prince’s hole. The stillness of the body lying on the floor was unusual for Alexander. He was more accustomed to his bitch boys squirming as he cleaned out their holes, either in protest or ecstasy. Indeed, he had known a couple of young men who had climaxed simply from the erotic sensation of having water squeezed up their back passages. In some respects he would have enjoyed it more had Felix been protesting and wriggling, although he acknowledged that this method was certainly proving more efficient. He could console himself at least that, though his royal prisoner may appear to be unconscious and insensible, in reality the Prince could feel every drop of water being forced into him.
A couple more squeezes with the douche to get the water nice and deep. Then Alexander positioned a bucket between Felix’s legs and, once again prising the Prince’s butt cheeks apart, he watched as the water started to spurt from the royal anus.
“You’re totally powerless, your Highness, no? Forced to lie there and submit yourself to this deeply humiliating procedure. Legs spread, buttocks spread, as I give you a nice enema. How amusing for me. And how devastating for you. But let me assure you. It’s going to get much worse!”
Alexander filled the Prince’s fundament a couple more times before deciding that his rectum was sufficiently clean for the next part of the treatment he was due to mete out to him.
“That was merely the hors d’oeuvre, your Highness,” he confided conspiratorially. “Now the real fun begins!”
Had the Prince been capable of turning his head, he would have seen Alexander produce a large bowl.
“Once again, I am indebted to dear Mistress Olwen. She has lent me a most useful device from her kitchen. It is a kind of steel syringe, used more commonly for icing cakes. The cake topping is poured into one end of the syringe, and then this ‘plunger’ forces the material out of the other end. Simple, no? I, however, have an even more ingenious use for it.”
“In addition to the syringe, I have asked her to make up a vat of thick, warm porridge.”
At this point, Alexander dipped a long wooden spoon into the bowl. He gave it a good stir and lifted the spoon out. Thick lumps of oatmeal that had not been properly dissolved into the milk dripped from the mixture.
“I even asked her to lower her usual standards. It doesn’t need to be too smooth, I told her. Thick and lumpy will do for where this lot is going.”
He picked up the syringe and began spooning the porridge into it. Soon the tube was full and he was able to insert the plunger at the syringe’s wide end.
“Are you ready for this, your Highness? This is going to feel very good…”
Alexander manoeuvred the syringe’s nozzle in between the Prince’s buttocks. “The metal is a little cold, no? I imagine you would wince now to feel that against the warmth of your puckered opening. Still what’s inside the syringe is nice and warm, and that’s going to be filling you up soon, so that will take your mind off any momentary discomfort.”
And with that, Alexander pushed the nozzle an inch or two into the royal rectum. He admitted to himself that he missed the little gasp: of surprise, protest, enjoyment that always accompanied the penetration of a slutboy’s hole by a foreign body. Still, he mused, there would be plenty of opportunities to observe the Prince’s reactions later on.
He leant forward over Felix’s prone body, his long, hose-clad legs rubbing against the Prince’s naked ones. “Here we go, your Highness!” he whispered in his ear. “Are you ready for some nice warm porridge?”
Slowly but surely, he depressed the plunger and began to force the gunk into the young man’s body.
“Mmmm, I can just imagine how that feels. Thick and warm, travelling up your back passage, sticky and lumpy, pushing all the way inside you. That’s one load done. Here comes another! Oh yes your hole must be hungry - it’s just swallowing up all that porridge as fast as I can push it up there. Deep into your bowels, and overflowing into your belly. All topsy-turvy eh? I bet you’ve never eaten porridge from this end of your body before have you? Then again, I don’t imagine you’ve eaten porridge at all. The likes of your Highness takes smoked salmon and quail’s eggs for breakfast, no? Porridge is peasant food. Pig-swill. So I suppose it’s only right that you should take it like a little piggy - up your slutty little boy hole!”
The syringe was filled for a fourth time, and Alexander estimated that about half of the lumpy mixture had now been deposited inside the Prince’s arse.
He reached around to prod the royal belly: where usually it was washboard smooth, it was now beginning to bulge from the unorthodox feeding procedure.
Alexander gave his hose-clad bulge a quick squeeze. “Oh yes!” You’re filling up nicely, you little bitch. That’s going to start cramping before long, you know. All that nasty oatmeal filling your insides. And there’s a further little surprise in store for you. But not just yet. I think we need to fill you up even more before that.”
The syringe was filled again, and this time Alexander depressed the plunger more slowly, tantalisingly, as if he feared that pushing more quickly would irritate the Prince’s guts to the extent that the whole load of porridge would be pushed out again.
“In we go,” he whispered, as he eased the next deposit of gunk inside the Prince. “You must be feeling really full now, no? I think there’s maybe enough left in the bucket for one more go…”
Alexander scraped the wooden spoon around the edges of the bowl and poured the final dregs into the syringe.
“Let’s just see how full that chute really is. I’ll just push my index finger inside… Oh yes, yes! You’re almost full to the brim, young man! That tepid oatmeal has filled your insides all the way from your belly to your bowels, to your anal passage. It must feel very crowded in there! And it’s now nestling just inside your sphincter, desperate to broach that dam and come flooding out again! Well we’d better get one final load inside you before that happens, eh?”
True to his word, Alexander depressed the plunger, sliding the last of the porridge into the suffering Prince’s fundament.
“How delightful! I wasn’t convinced you could manage it, your Highness, but there you go - your arse has swallowed the entire tub of that disgusting porridge! And see how much easier it was without the thrashing, cursing and complaining we’d have endured had I not chosen to paralyse your body.”
(Alexander did not admit that he rather enjoyed the thrashing about part of the process, but needs must and all that.)
“Now I promised you another little surprise. Well - here it is! You may well be wondering: if your muscles are all out of your control, how will you be able to squeeze your arsehole shut to prevent all that yucky porridge exploding from you and soiling yourself? Well, you don’t need to thank me - indeed you’re currently unable to, but as always, I am here to help. You see, as well as the paralysis pill, my witchy friend has providing me with another medicine. One that has a rather curious effect on the human body. When ingested, it causes severe constipation. So, no matter how full and tormented the patient’s guts may be, he will physically be unable to empty his bowels. And guess what, your highness? That horrible, lumpy porridge was laced with a considerable dose of that particular potion. So, no matter how full your belly feels, no matter how agonising the stomach cramps, and no matter how desperately you need to shit out all that gunk, you won’t be able to. You’ll just have to endure it until I decide to end your torment!”
Alexander chuckled evilly. “What exquisite torture you’ll endure, my liege. And there’s simply nothing you can do about it!”
He drank in the sight of the naked, golden body lying on the floor, a few lumps of porridge smeared over the Prince’s ass cheeks, the belly bulging unnaturally with its vicious cargo. His eyes wandered to the sideboard and the bowl of fruit that sat on it. A new idea came to him.
“But, just in case your body needs any assistance, let’s help you plug that hole.”
He considered the various fruit before him.
“A nice thick juicy pear should do the trick! Let’s get it coated in some of the remnants of porridge to aid its ingress. And look - I’ll even be merciful. I’ll insert the pointed end first - not the blunt one!”
It was a tricky task. The Prince’s hole was as tight as a virgin’s, and Alexander did not want any of the porridge loaded up inside his arse to escape. Nevertheless, the slim end of the pear slid in relatively easily. Only when the fruit suddenly bulged to its widest part did things become more difficult. Nevertheless, Alexander persevered. He had spent his whole adult life forcing items into reluctant male arses, and the skill he had acquired over those decades stood him in good stead now. Gently he massaged the sides of the taut opening and, slowly but surely, the green fruit stretched Prince Felix’s hole wider and wider. Alexander breathed heavily as he raped the royal butt with the clumsy fruit, but finally Felix’s arsehole stretched to accommodate the pear’s circumference. And then once it had done so, there was a tiny belch of porridge, and the over-stretched muscle sprang gratefully back into place, sucking the fruit inside the already stuffed body.
“There we go!” declared Alexander. “That will serve as a most efficient butt plug until the time comes when I decide to release you from your agony of constipation!”
Droplets of sweat covered the Prince’s body: the sole sign of the physical pain he was being forced to endure.
Alexander paused to lift Felix’s chin and to look at him straight in his dazzling blue eyes.
“Such loathing in your eyes, young man. You must be starting to feel real agony in your belly now. All that claggy porridge sitting there. The one thing you want to do is to push it out and relieve your poor aching bowels. And you can’t. You just have to let it sit there and suffer. Poor little bitch boy. I’m in complete control of your body - you can’t even take a crap unless I let you. How low you have fallen, my pretty little Princeling. Your humiliation is complete.”
Alexander knew that Felix would have spat in his face had he been able to. The paralysis potion had its advantages, although it was always fun to break the more spirited slaves, he observed.
“Now, as delightfully diverting as it is to play with your beautiful boy hole for hours on end, I do have a larger purpose in administering your oatmeal enema. You will find out what in good time, but before then, I think a little more humiliation is in order, don’t you? Now, let me get my damp flannel again, and wipe that little lump of cold porridge from your peachy bum. We must have you clean on the outside mustn’t we? Then it’s more fun when you do explode and expel, no?”
Once the Steward was satisfied that the Prince’s private parts were all clean and fresh, he opened a drawer from his sideboard and produced the next element for the royal humiliation.
Kneeling down in front of the Prince, he pushed some thick white fabric into the young man’s face.
“Breathe deeply, your Highness. For I’m sure you recognise what this is, although I appreciate it is likely to have been many years since you last wore one. That’s right - a baby’s nappy. I think that will be sufficiently demeaning, don’t you?”
Alexander moved swiftly, with practiced ease. He flipped the Prince onto his back, noting with satisfaction the gurgle of protestation emitting from the royal guts as he did so. Lifting Felix’s hips, he slid the back of the diaper beneath the Prince’s bum, bending his legs in the process.
“It’s a good job it’s a large one!” said Alexander. “You’ve become quite the plump little baby now with your belly all jutting out and bulging! Look at that poor little winkie sitting there. Maybe I should suck you off for a bit - just get you hard enough. Would you enjoy that, my little slut?”
He glanced at the clock on the wall. “Ah, sadly there’s no time. And come to think of it, I don’t see why I should exert myself for your gratification. I’ve already done quite enough to pleasure you by filling you up and stuffing that hole of yours, haven’t I? Now let’s get my royal baby diapered, shall we?”
Skilfully, Alexander pulled the front of the nappy up over the Prince’s crotch. Then he grabbed the spare material at the sides, wrapping it around Felix’s waist. Finally, holding the package together with one hand, he fastened it all together with a large pin. He stood up and took a step backwards to admire his handiwork.
“Who’s my beautiful royal baby, then?” he cooed in Felix’s face. “Now, to finish dressing you. Let’s lift you onto the bed, young man. How’s that porridge doing? Gurgling and cramping away I see. Very nice. And no hope of letting it go? Poor baby bitch. Well, we can’t worry about that now. You have a special visitor to get ready for. And she can’t see you naked apart from your big baby nappy, can she? And what could be more appropriate than to costume you as the royal Fool, eh?”
Alexander manipulated the young Prince’s muscular arms like a particularly beautiful mannequin into the blue and yellow tunic. Licking his lips, he produced a pair of lustrous hose: one leg yellow, one blue.
“No jester ever wore a pair of tights as fine as these, Prince Prick-tease, but you see how I make allowances for your status!”
Lifting up the Prince’s left leg, Alexander delicately slipped the royal foot into the silken hosiery, encasing the firm muscles of the Prince’s calf into the shiny material. Up, up, he pulled, as first one, then the other leg disappeared into the sensuous tights.
“Such a pity that the great bulk of your diaper ruins the silhouette, your Highness. It would be far more pleasant to see your bubble butt and pretty cock bulging through the tights for all to see. But that must be for another time, I fear.” he lamented.
“And now for the finishing touch!”
He pulled the Prince’s golden locks and twisted them into his neck.
“After all, no Fool is complete without a Jester’s cap after all! And my, Prince Felix, what a Fool you do look now!”
He fastened the hood beneath the Prince’s chin, setting the little bells to jingling as he did so.
“I think we’re ready to put you in your baby’s playpen, your Highness. You can sit there as your muscles - slowly and surely start to work again. I wonder how long that porridge enema will torture your guts? You’d better hope that I’m merciful, now, hadn’t you, my dirty little baby boy?”