The King's Birthday Gift


King Bodie was bored. Very bored. So bored that he did not want to ride the royal motorcycle, or drive the royal Ferrari. Indeed, there was great concern among his advisors and friends because he did not cast his eye on the ladies in waiting or on the maids and, most horrifying of all, he only toyed with his food. The finest Swiss Roll, the most tender of steaks, the most golden of beers, all were sent back to the kitchen barely touched.

They sent, of course, for the wisest counsellor in the kingdom, a sour old man who had spent many years in the service of the former king and now was retired to the northernmost tip of the island. The journey to the town took a long time, and as they waited for the wise old man, the concerned citizens tried to tempt the king with delicacies from far and wide. He would not eat the peacock tongues, he would not taste pork pies or even...chocolate.

His loss of interest in sex caused many a wet eye in the kingdom. This was not at all like the king! Young ladies came from near and far to offer themselves as an antidote to the malady, and yet he was not tempted by even the sweetest of them.

On the summer afternoon when Old Man Cowley arrived, the heat had kept most of the citizens indoors. Inside the castle, jugglers performed, panting and sweating in their efforts to bring at least a smile to their monarch's face. Even the fool, mimicking the jugglers but dropping the balls and tripping artistically, failed in this task. The king would only sit, fist on cheek, and sigh.

"Get out!" shouted the Old Man, and the entertainers were more than willing to go. Next, the scribes and the politicians were chased out. "You, too!" he snapped at the scantily clad concubines, and they screamed and fled. "What the hell is wrong with you?" the Old Man demanded, prodding the king with his staff. He was the only man in the kingdom who could get away with that indignity.

The king shrugged.

"Open your mouth."

The king looked confused, but he obeyed. The Old Man studied his tongue. Then he nodded and announced, "You have been cursed."

The king sat up a little straighter, alarmed. "Cursed?"

"It looks like a simple crop wizard's curse. From the pattern on your tongue, I'd say you said something to offend him, or her. I've told you to watch your tongue, lad."

Bodie gave it a try, but only ended up looking cross-eyed and a fool. This was the reason the Old Man had sent everyone away. It wouldn't do for the populace to see their king looking like such an idiot.

Bodie gave it up and blinked, saying, "I don't think I've offended any wizards."

"You're always offending someone," the Old Man observed. "I recall when you decreed that ten percent of the taxes had to be paid in chocolate."

Bodie remembered it too, fondly. His lips turned up. It was a good sign, but the Old Man concealed how pleased he was with that progress. Something triggered the king's memory. "I did yell at the idiots blocking the crossroads outside the market last week."

"Probably that, then," the Old Man said, with the sighing resignation of a man who had dealt with that foolishness before and had no hope of not having to deal with it again. "Give me a moment and I will determine what the curse was, that we might then learn how to cure you."

Taking from his pocket a pair of glasses, and a piece of chalk, he slid the glasses on his nose and began to make obscure marks and symbols on the fine marble floor of the throne room. Eventually, one of the signs flared up brightly, as if it had caught on fire. The Old Man nodded his satisfaction and scuffed out the marks with his shoe before looking up and addressing the king.

"You're in real trouble, lad."

"What?" the king demanded, leaning forward anxiously.

"This is easily enough cured. It only requires the services of a virgin."

"Oh, shit," exclaimed the king.

That was well put, and the wise man nodded his agreement. The king, when he ascended the throne, had let it be known that he was a most liberal monarch, one who enjoyed a night in bed and who encouraged all within the borders to enjoy the same sport. The herbalists did a fine business in the herbs which prevented conception, and indeed, some of them were now rich beyond their wildest dreams. Too, certain herb beds were practically plucked clean and so the importers were also profiting. The economy had never been in better shape.

"Is there a virgin left in the kingdom?" the king wanted to know.

"There must be," the Old Man said, but he did not sound all that certain, since it was forbidden, by the king's own sworn seal, to sport with children, they were not talking about the young ones under the age of consent. The problem was, the young folks now tended to celebrate their coming of age flat on their backs. If there were virgins when night fell in the kingdom, there were never any come the dawn.

"I'll advertise," the king suggested.

"Oh, no! You must not let anyone know of this need! Sire, your enemies would be able to manipulate you, perhaps try to force you to grant them dangerous boons! Besides, I have the perfect solution."

"What?" the king demanded to know.

"On your birthday, the kings and queens of the four kingdoms which border yours will arrive to celebrate it with you. Treaties will be made, border disputes settled. A great celebration will be held, and many arrangements made to impress the monarchs and show to them your power and your wealth."

Yes, that was true. The king nodded.

"The King of the North and the Queen of the South will bring their daughters, for as you know, each of them desires that a match be made and the kingdoms united."

"Yes. But you know what will happen should I choose one of those princesses! The other kingdom would be mightily offended, and war would ensue."

"Yes, I know. I have a solution for that, too," the Old Man snapped, implying that if his king would just shut up a moment it would all be explained. The king sighed and shut up.

"Announce that you will marry the one who leads to you a unicorn for the birthday festivities. First, this will bring a virgin, for only such may lead a unicorn. Second, there will be a unicorn at the party, and for once the King of the East won't have the only one and will stop that eternal prattling on about it. And third, you will be married just before the official opening ceremonies and the neighbours will have to give up the idea of taking control of your kingdom through marriage." With any luck, neither would decide to start a war. Cowley decided that when he went home again he would have to spend some time thinking about that possibility. No one knew how much thought went into appearing brilliant, how far ahead he had to plan. There was a reason the Old Man was usually grumpy.

"You are brilliant!" the king shouted. Old Cowley managed to look modest about it for a moment, but he knew it was true.

"Let the decree go out that you wish a unicorn brought to you for your birthday," the Old Man ordered, and shouted for the scribes. The young king was looking more lively now. Just what he needed, something to keep his brain occupied. "Don't forget to have the master builders construct a unicorn grotto in the royal meadow," he added. That should keep everyone busy arguing what a unicorn grotto should be like. As he didn't have any idea himself, that seemed a safe enough scheme.

In the confusion and shouting, he took himself off back to his small cottage in the north. The Royal Birthday Bash was still about five weeks away. Maybe, for awhile, they'd leave him alone.

The decree went out at once, with riders on royal Barley's travelling to every corner of the kingdom. The news eventually reached a small cottage deep in the woods. There, alone, lived a young man named Ray. Once, years before, he had lived with his father and mother and his nine brothers and sisters in a house at the edge of the forest. His beautiful mother had become ill, and died. His father had remarried a woman just as beautiful, but also quite cruel and nasty. Faced with entirely too many children for her taste, she had crafted an evil plan. Whenever one of the youngest children just happened, by chance, to be alone with her, she would snatch it up, wrap it in bedding to muffle any sound the child might make, and run away with it, far into the forest, where she would leave it. Then, when the child later turned up missing, she would search as hard as anyone for the babe.

The fate of the first child abandoned this way, and the second, was ever after unknown, but the third, once freed from his blanket, wandered the forest until, quite by accident, he fell into a unicorn's grotto. It was a beautiful place, with rare flowers and a sparkling spring bubbling up from the ground on each side. Birds sang, frogs croaked, and small animals gambolled among the flowers.

The unicorn lived under a tangled arch of thornbush, and was, like all of his kind, rather standoffish. Still, when a golden opportunity fell onto his doorstep, he wasn't so stupid as to turn it away. In many ways, the unicorn was quite similar to the king's advisor, Cowley. Both of them had a bit of magic, a bit of wisdom, and a great deal of impatience with humanity. Yet, humans had their value, and there was this one itchy spot just behind his horn, and another behind his ears and....

When the young boy wandered into the grotto, the unicorn was at once determined to keep him. He was young enough to train, and, too, he was such a cute little thing as he gambolled across the greensward! Just this once, the unicorn decided, he'd keep a pet. The boy could tend a garden, scratch a few spots and use his gift of language to tell the occasional human who wandered into the grotto to get his arse back out of it. In return, the kid could have some food and build a small hut at the edge of the grotto.

The plan worked quite well. Of course, it turned out that the lad wasn't absolutely 100% total virgin, but only 99.735%--he'd watched his brothers and sisters fool about as siblings sometimes do, and heard the sounds his parents had made in their loft--but it was good enough for Bennie the unicorn.

The young boy had grown into a young man, with a fine strong body and a head of tumbled curls the envy of all who saw them. His skin was bronzed by the sun, and as he had little in the way of clothing, one could see almost every perfect curve. In fact, more than once, Bennie the unicorn had spotted strangers lurking about, spying--and for once, they weren't trying to capture a unicorn. Something, Bennie realized, was Going To Have To Be Done.

One day, as Bennie and Ray were sharing a salad under the curve of the thorn tree, a wandering minstrel chanced upon the grotto. After the obligatory attempt to capture the unicorn (this one wasn't the sort to find Ray of interest, for which the unicorn was extremely grateful), which ended in the minstrel coming within an inch of singing soprano in his future career, the man settled down to tell the news of the kingdom in exchange for food.

When the man had gone on his way, Bennie announced, "We shall go to the castle for the king's birthday!"

"Why?" asked Ray.

Like Cowley, Bennie the unicorn had found a perfect solution to several problems. "First," Bennie said, "travel is broadening." When the lad look confused, he said, "You are of age now. It is time you saw the world. Second," he said, before Ray could come up with another objection to the first one, which was his weakest argument, "it would be very nice to marry the king and live in the castle, wouldn't it?" Sounded like hell to Bennie, but people were a strange lot.

"Well..." Ray said, thoughtfully. It would be nice to have a bit more variety in the diet, and indoor plumbing, and clothes, but.... "I don't think I can marry the king. We're both boys."

"So what? If he decreed he would marry the person who brought him a unicorn, then he should keep his word. Very important in a monarch, that is."

"But I'm not built right for the job," Ray pointed out. Bennie looked him over. Okay, so he was short a couple of legs and didn't have a horn. Ray was still cute. All those curls and big eyes and curves that even a unicorn could admire.

"I'm sure you'll adapt," Bennie said.

"Adopt?" Ray asked, puzzled. He hadn't quite heard. The birds chirped terribly this time of year.

"You'll have to," the unicorn said. "The important thing is, I'll be on the grounds of the castle when Rogoto, the King of the East, arrives with his unicorn. The poor beast has grown tired of being a prisoner, she'd like to run free in the meadows again."

And she would be so grateful for her rescue that she'd come back to the grotto with him. Bennie was a conniving old boy, and handsome enough to hope she'd take to the idea, and smart enough to hedge his bets and make sure his plans would succeed. He'd been saving up his magic for years with just this sort of plan in mind.

Ray, who was a bit of a romantic at heart, sighed happily at the thought of love blooming for his old friend. He had less hope for himself. After all, he couldn't be very lovesome if he'd been dumped in the forest. He had no memory, after all this time, of his family. He also had no way of comparing himself to other people, and really thought that he was an ordinary specimen.

"Now, we only have a week until the birthday bash, and we have ever so much to do." Bennie sprang up. "First, we must gather together everything we can to sell, one can't go into Town without money."

"What do we need money for?" asked Ray.

"You really are delightfully innocent." Something would have to be done about that, too, the unicorn realized with a sigh of regret. "We need clothing for you, and food once we are in the city itself, and a disguise for me...oh, and a gift for the king. We really do intend to defraud him, you see, for I don't intend to stay. And I suppose robbing the King of the East of his captive will cause some trouble as well. I suppose it will have to be several gifts. It's easy enough. I know a troll who owes me a favour and who will bet me some of those jewel things men prize so much. And there's Uncle Silver's horn. I still have that, and there is magic enough even in an old horn to compensate for the loss of a living-but-uncooperative captive unicorn. Yes, it will all work out."

Ray looked doubtfully at his old friend and mentor, but he kept his uncertain feelings to himself. There was so much to be done that he had little time to think about it anyway, until they left the grotto three days before the king's birthday.

Disguised as a beast of burden, carrying a huge mass of kindling on his back, the unicorn walked with the boy to a village, where they traded the fresh fruits and vegetables the young man carried for clothing for Ray. Then, they walked the rest of the day and soon reached the edge of the great town. As they walked, the unicorn imparted as much of his wisdom as he could to the youth. Honesty is the best policy. Buy low, sell high. Always have a back door or a way out. Eat lots of roughage. He also told all he knew of kings and kingdoms, protocol and manners, and the ways of People. It was all, Ray thought, exceedingly strange.

They camped at the very edge of the woods, that night, and as they munched on raw carrots and fine peaches, Bennie also shared with his friend all he knew of People mating practices.

"They do what!?" Ray wanted to know.

Bennie explained it again. It wasn't all that different from what unicorns do, just much more varied and athletic. Bennie, who had unfortunate voyeuristic tendencies, had spied on almost all the couples who stole away into the forest for their trysts. He had seen enough to know that young Ray could undoubtedly mate with the king. Rather wished he would be around to see it, in fact, but then he recalled that if all went well, he'd have his own mating to be thinking about in only a few days.

The intensity of his interest was compounded by the knowledge that even if his rescue and suit were accepted, his bliss would only last until the lady unicorn became pregnant. Then she would wander off to find a virgin to tend her through the pregnancy and birth. When a unicorn was pregnant, she really needed the help of a pair of hands to scratch the itchy spots and bring the finest bits of greenery to eat, and, of course, to help and protect during the delivery. For some reason, there were People out there just mad for a baby unicorn.

If he was really lucky, Bennie's lady friend would bring the virgin back to his grotto and stay there until the baby was born. Maybe even stay until the baby was old enough to be on his or her own. Maybe even start a herd!

Bennie's dreams were interrupted by a question from Ray. And another. And another. If he hadn't put his hoof down, they'd have gotten no sleep that night at all!

The next morning, they travelled into the town. Ray's eyes got big as saucers as he stared around at the wonders of the town. It was his job to ask their way, and how amazing it was to speak to so many people. He cleverly asked his way to "The jewellers, I have a load of wood for him," and learned that there were three of them in the town. They went to the shop of each, and the unicorn would stand outside and "listen" at each door, reaching out with his magic to see who was honest and who was not.

Thus they came at last to the door of the jewellers to the king, Anson and Stuart. These two were amazed to be called to the back door of their shop, and even more amazed to find there a load of wood, a young lad and a unicorn. Their help was begged, and they gladly gave it. For five red jewels and a load of wood (do you know how hard it is to get wood in the middle of the city?), they agreed to help the two with their plan.

Anson went to a designer he knew, and purchased a beautiful suit of white for Ray. It was of the finest cloth, which clung in all the right places, yet flared at sleeve and collar. He went and bought the finest shampoo soaps, and some exotic scents, and an extremely sturdy hairbrush. Stuart went to a harness maker and had fashioned a wonderful halter of silk which, when stressed by a hard jerk or a use of force, would come apart and set the one wearing it free. He also bought a hoof file and lots more towels.

All day, Ray and the unicorn were washed, rinsed, trimmed, brushed, oiled, scented, and rubbed. (Indeed, when Stuart was finished, Ray was only 99.234% a virgin, the man having lingered quite too long washing and rubbing certain bits of Ray!) They retired to a bedroom for the night, Ray to dream of the king--Anson said the man was handsome, brave and beautiful--and Bennie to fume because Anson had hinted around about house training and the value of the carpets! As if he were some sort of uncivilized horse!

The morning before the king's birthday dawned, and with many thanks the two heroes ventured out just as the town was stirring. After thanking their hosts, and breakfasting on fresh bread (a treat for them both) and jam, they made their way to the marvellous castle in the centre of the town. There was no need to try to convince the keeper of the gate. At once he opened the portals, and he cried to the trumpeters to sound the greeting, as he would for a royal visitor. Ray, leading Bennie, walked into the courtyard, and then he and Bennie began climbing the steps to the castle itself.

Inside, the sound of trumpets woke the king from a very nice dream he was having, which involved a set of triplets and a trampoline. He was a bit irritated. His birthday was not until tomorrow, and how impolite it was of one of the visiting monarchs to arrive a day early. His staff was going to have kittens. Still, the dream did show he hadn't absolutely lost his interest in sex. However, when he thought of calling the chamber maid, his rising sex suddenly and inexplicably sagged down again. The frustration he felt caused him to frown ferociously.

Down the hall, Cowley was also shaken from a deep sleep. He got up and went to the window in his nightshirt, pulling aside the curtains to peek out to see what the racket was about.

Oh, dear. Now that was a wrinkle he had not considered! The young person leading the unicorn was definitely male! He thought about the problem as he dressed himself and went to the king's door. The guard there let him in. The guard was there more to prevent unannounced visitors than to protect the king.

The king was sitting up in bed when Cowley came in. He was somewhat surprised to see the advisor, but more annoyed at the prospect of postponing his plans while old George spoke his mind; sometimes the Old Man could be most long-winded.

"Sire," the Old Man bowed, "a young man has brought you a unicorn."

"That's goo...a young man, you say?" The king leaped from his bed and threw on a royal bathrobe. It was impossible to sit still with the news of such amazing quality. He dug a finger into his ear as if to clear some obstruction.

"A young man. An unexpected turn of events."

Yes, And the sun was hot. The king gave him an amazed look and said, "What shall we do!"

"This is, indeed, a problem. It would not do to go back upon your sworn word."

"I can't marry a man!" the king exclaimed loudly

"Of course you can. You will just explain to the people that your sworn word is your sworn word, and do it. It might even start a trend," Cowley added.

"But, Sir Cowley! What would I do with a man!"

"You are known far and wide for your sexual inventiveness, your innovation, your sword," wink, wink, "work. Surely you know what is possible?" The king nodded, but it was a very uncertain motion. "Besides, you will be having a virgin, and that is all that's required to break the curse. Marry the lad today, have him tonight, and have him at your side tomorrow, when all the monarchs visit. Then, a quickie divorce and a large settlement, and you'll be free to marry again."

"I suppose," the king sighed. "You're right. As usual. And it would be nice to be able to eat again. And everything else. Very well. I'll do it."

"Then dress at once, and let us go to the throne room and be introduced to the virgin and the unicorn."

The king dressed in blue, dark blue that seemed to be made from one of the glances of his eyes, and followed his advisor to the throne room. He settled himself and waited for his half-awake staff, scribes and attendants to arrange themselves, and then he announced he was ready.

There was only one person waiting for audience with the king, of course, and this was just as well, because under other circumstances he would be one of a hundred who asked to be admitted, and it would have sadly draggled their attire to wait in the hot sun all day. As it was, they walked up the red carpet into a room only half as full as it usually was--and half as noisy as well. Each eye was on the handsome lad and the wonderful unicorn.

The two bowed low.

"Speak," the king said. "Who are you and where have you come from?"

"I am Ray, your humble servant," Ray said shyly. "I have brought a unicorn here for your birthday celebration."

"A most beautiful unicorn," the king agreed, and Bennie decided the king wasn't a bad sort at all! "You know that I have decreed I will marry the virgin who brings me a unicorn for my birthday. You may choose another boon, if you wish," the king said. Cowley poked him, hard, for deviating from the script, and the king was annoyed because he could not properly retaliate.

Innocent Ray, so overwhelmed by the grandness of the place and the beauty of the king, could not open his mouth because he could think of nothing to ask for, and so he only bowed silently.

There was nothing for it but to marry. The king said, "Let it be announced that Ray and I will be married this very afternoon. Ray will lead the unicorn to the grotto we have prepared."

"Let the wedding be performed in the grotto," Cowley suggested. "You can hold a grand picnic there afterwards."

The king loved picnics. Maybe, just getting married to a virgin would alleviate the curse enough to bring back his appetite. He agreed at once to the suggestion.

Ray and the unicorn backed out of the throne room, and the king was giving serious thought to going back to bed, when the chief steward of the audiences suggested that since the king was here, and the afternoon audiences would obviously have to be cancelled, it would be best to go on with them now. Cowley seconded the motion, thinking that it was best to keep the king busy before he developed something quite unfortunate, like cold feet.

So the king sat, cheek on palm and waited for the next person to be announced, and Cowley went to get breakfast. Ray and the unicorn asked directions to the grotto at the door. As they went down the stairs, they passed a thin woman who was plainly old before her time. Behind her came a great crowd of people. If Ray had stayed a few more minutes, he would have been able to see his stepmother pronounced as the Mother of the Year. In the fourteen years since she had left poor Ray in the woods alone, she had produced two sets of twins, one of triplets and six other children. Adding these to the seven stepchildren she had raised, she had twenty children to care for. She now had no time to leave babes in the woods, no matter how much she dreamed of it. There were some who would have said that the punishment fit the crime.

Ray and the unicorn found the king's grotto a pale imitation of the real thing. There were fountains of coloured water (which tasted terrible) and a small lake (which was better). There were trees and paths and fresh grass. The unicorn fell to eating and Ray to worrying.

Servants from the castle came to prepare a pavilion, and one of them brought a breakfast of pastry to the young man, who ate what he could of it before he found a quiet place to hide. There, Bennie found him, and kindly gave him the touch of a unicorn's horn which brings sleep.

It was not a long wedding. The king arrived, the people assembled, the bishop conducted the ceremony (and a bit shocked he was, too) and then the picnic began. At the high table, Ray sat beside the king, stealing glances at him and blushing brightly if he were caught at it. The king divided his time between stealing glances at his consort and at the food. The food still did not appeal to him, to his disgust. The only way to get a decent meal, he decided, was to bed his new mate as soon as possible.

When fewer people than usual were staring at them, the king grabbed Ray's hand and led him away to the castle. They crept up the back stairs to the king's bedroom, and the king closed and locked the door behind him.

Ray's eyes were huge as he waited for his king to make a move. Bodie waited awkwardly, and then announced, "We should take off our clothes." This they both did.

"We should kiss," the king said.

They did, and Ray's heart began to beat like a drum, but the kiss was ended by the king, who, although he found it pleasant, was terribly concerned because nothing else was happening.

Nothing. The true strength of the curse was at last revealed. If Bodie had no desire to mate, then the curse could not be broken. And until the curse was broken, how could the king mate? In despair, the king threw himself down on the bed, with tears standing in his manly eyes.

"Oh, what's wrong?" cried Ray, pained at what he saw as a rejection.

"Nothing," the king sighed.

"That's not true," the young man countered, losing some of his shyness and fear in the face of someone else's distress.

"It's just that...I'm under a curse," the king confessed. "I can' know!"

"Uh, no," Ray admitted.

The king recalled that this was a virgin he was talking to. He sat up a bit and took his kingly part in his hand. Even limp, it was an impressive organ. "This," the king said, "isn't working."

"How do you make it work? Maybe I can help," Ray volunteered.

"It's no use," the king sighed.

"Show me how," Ray insisted. The king sighed again, and reached out to Ray to demonstrate.

"You do this," he said, rubbing the young man's penis. It perked up at once, swelling quickly. It was so good to feel that lift, that thickening, that the king continued. Even if it wasn't his own, it was marvellous to make the magic happen.

"Oh!" Ray seemed quite pleased--his hips began moving restlessly. "Then what?"

"Well, when I was all stiff like this, I was going to...rub on some oil here," his fingers slid back to the opening to Ray's body, "and then, when it was nice and relaxed," Cowley had reminded him how careful one had to be with virgins, "this," he pointed, "goes in there."

"It won't fit!" Ray exclaimed. Bennie had told him about this, and in theory he had accepted it, but that was before he got a good look at the size of his monarch.

"It would," Bodie said sadly, "if it worked."

"Let me get this straight," Ray said. "First, you do this," he gestured towards his cock, which, under the king's talented hands, had become quite tall and sturdy. "Then," he spied the oil bottle and took it up. Pouring a little onto his palm, he sniffed it cautiously. Lovely. Lilies of the Valley, faintly, with just a touch of vanilla, he decided. "Is this what you do with it?" He pushed the king down and reached between his legs, finding the yielding place and rubbing there.

"Not quite. Your fingers have to" The king decided that the fingers felt good there. He wiggled a bit to give his spouse better access.


"In," the king said, moving so that one of the prodding digits was forced past the guarding ring and into the body.

"Oh!" The young man experimented, entranced. The king spread his legs wider as he realized it felt even better.

"Try two," the king suggested. Later, he moaned, "Try three." He was so involved that he didn't see his cock give a wakening, hopeful twitch. He was on his hands and knees then, trying to give full access to Ray.

Ray remembered the next step and pulled his fingers out of the king in order to move closer. Positioning himself quickly, he poked himself into the royal arse.

The king yelped, but it was an amazed and happy yelp. Ray had been swamped with instinct and was now humping hard his king's arse, wild with fervour and enthusiasm. Every time he happened to hit a certain magic spot the king bucked and gasped, and the king's member was jolted into just a little more hardness, just a little more length.

The king was hardly noticing. His eyes were closed and his mouth open in a most unkingly expression. "Do it!" he was encouraging Ray, "Harder, harder, now!"

Ray obeyed, and suddenly, to his delight, he reached the stars and was exploding into stardust.

Bodie understood what was happening, and suddenly he knew something else, too. Ray's virginity was fading fast! If something was going to be done, it would have to be done now! As the last pulse of Ray's ejaculation pumped into his quivering bottom, the king fumbled for the oil, found it, slathered some on himself, testing at the same time to see if his royal penis was hard enough to do the job. He didn't wait to speculate long, but tipped Ray off his body, turned him over and spread his legs. Ray, still floating up with the clouds, hardly knew what was happening to him until, all at once, there was the king spreading his cheeks wide and thrusting into him.

Ray gave a little squeak of surprise, but the sensation really was rather intriguing, and he braced himself and let Bodie come in. He really couldn't help the little squeezes his arse was giving the royal prick as it plundered him, really he couldn't.

So all the king managed was one good thrust and then the pools of his royal sauce, dammed up for months, went speeding from his balls and up, up, up into the heavenly darkness of Ray's sweet arse.

When the king pulled out of his 100% non-virgin mate's body, his own arse throbbing because he was in the same completely fucked state, he realized things. One, was that if Cowley thought there was going to be a royal divorce in the near future, he was in for a big surprise! Second, that his mate was looking at him with an expression of sheer admiration and delight, and it wasn't going to be all that long before the king would be able again--definitely cured! And three, he was starving! Hungry! Now! He went to the door and yelled for food.

Out in the pavilion, the good news passed from person to person. The king had called for food! The king was cured! Everyone went on with the picnic, the gossips (and everyone else, if truth were known) speculating on exactly what had happened to bring about the happy event.

The king and Ray feasted on the best of the picnic fare, and drank sparkling water and stared at each other over the rims of the glasses. Then they bathed in the king's huge bath, still drowning in each other's eyes, and went to bed.

They were still there as the sun went down in the west. They were still there when the sun came up on the king's birthday. The king hung out a "Do Not Disturb on Penalty of Banishment" sign on the door and the kings and queens who came for his birthday party found that it was hosted by Cowley and the king was nowhere about. There was much quiet bitching from those whose matrimonial hopes had been dashed, and the mood was such that when some wit proposed to let the King of the East's unicorn in with the new one and watch them mate (with many comments and comparisons to the king and his consort by the cruder folk), everyone trooped down to the grotto to watch.

So the two in the royal bedroom exchanging royal fuckings didn't get to see the two unicorns flirt and tease and run or see Bennie use his horn to strike off the lock of the gate. Both of them ran for freedom, a sight so beautiful that the guards forgot to chase them until it was entirely too late.

It was up to Cowley to present the King of the East with Uncle Silver's horn, and three blue gems (Bennie had a whispered word with Cowley the evening before at the picnic). The other kings and queens each got a jewel as well, sparkling white ones. Then, thank goodness, they all went home.

It was a week before the door to the king's chambers opened and the two staggered out. They went at once to the dining hall. Cowley watched sourly as they fed each other bits of cake and laughed and otherwise acted thoroughly in love. The Old Man snorted and went to pack his bags to go home. Now he had to figure out how to get an heir for the king without disturbing his obvious happiness with his new mate. Grumbling and complaining, he made his way from the castle, knowing he'd have to come back soon enough. Who knows what would happen now that there were the two of them to worry about!

-- THE END --

Originally published in Old Friends, Chained to the Typewriter Press, c.1994

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