Later that day...
Prince Hassan could barely keep from fidgeting all that morning. The wrestling spar he'd witnessed between his two personal bodyguards, Lusala and Sahib, kept blissfully replaying in his mind over and over.
At breakfast, he could hardly eat. During history lesson, he couldn't hope to focus. And whenever either Sahib or Lusala looked his way, he'd giggle like a fool and turn quickly to hide the growing erection that pushed the fabric of his loincloth aside.
Some time later, protected from the hot afternoon sun, Lusala and Sahib were enjoying their break, having had passed their duties to Prince Rafi's guards while the brothers studied basic herbalism.
"Our young prince has grown into quite a man, hasn't he, Sahib?" Lusala asked through a smile, placing a friendly hand on the Arabian's shoulder. He and his fellow guard stood alone in one of the halls near the palace's spacious courtyard. "And that attire he chooses to wear is quite... enticing, isn't it?"
"What are you saying?!" Sahib hissed lowly, eyes narrowed and darting around for eavesdroppers. "You'll get us killed if King Fatih hears of your desires!"
"My desires? They belong to not only me, my friend. I've seen the way you look at the prince."
Sahib grunted and closed his mouth. It was true that he lusted for Prince Hassan. He certainly doesn't make it any less difficult with that diaphanous loincloth he's always wearing. Still, no matter what their urges, Hassan was the son of their great king and everyone who so much as dreamed of groping at his exposed, dangling sausage feared for their heads.
"Besides..." Lusala continued, moving behind Sahib and running his big hands over the stud's smooth chest. He smiled at the way Sahib shivered when he rubbed those puffy nipples that adorned his pecs. "He wants us in the same way... You know how he's always trying to get one of the guards to wrestle him." Lusala lowered his lips to Sahib's thick trap muscle and kissed it affectionately. "He wants what we want."
"Are you a demon trying to lure me into the afterlife with such a crazy death wish?" Sahib grunted as he slipped away, tugging on Lusala's headband and snapping it back into place. "I'm going to fetch Hassan," he finished, moving for the exit. "His studies should be over by now. You know he mustn't be left alone for long."
Lusala chuckled and straightened his headband. "Or is it you who doesn't want to be alone with me?"
Prince Hassan hummed Al Fatih's rather catchy national anthem as he walked the halls of the palace, thinking of how he could fulfill his desires. Much to his tutor's dismay, his head was filled with thoughts of men wrestling, rather than what wild plants would soothe a sunburn. And pretty much all of the guards now knew to be on high alert whenever he walked into the area.
"I want to wrestle," he sighed, staring up at a solid gold statue depicting a younger version of his father, the king. He'd heard the story of its creation so many times from both his dad and the royal historian that he'd practically memorized it by heart.
Made from the gold of a tyrant that Asad Fatih had defeated single-handedly, the statue was known as The King was created long ago by a master artisan. While on his adventures across the Arabian sands as a younger man, Fatih and his closest men, came upon a town overwhelmed with fear for its tyrannical ruler. So great were the people's terror, none would even speak his name.
Eager to make a name for his growing kingdom, Fatih approached the dangerous and psychotic man in the marketplace. The two proud studs drew their blades and engaged in a great spectacle of swordplay. Fatih's swordsmanship far outclassed the raving madman's, delighting the enormous crowd of witnesses. With expert precision, the king severed his cruel opponent's loincloth, leaving him nude. His next several strikes targeted the beautiful jewels and golden loops the tyrant wore, leaving him without worth.
King Fatih's final strike brought the tip of his blade to the man's throat. Fearing for his life and with the witnesses' laughter ringing in his ears, the brutal ruler fled his own town that very instant. None ever heard from or saw him again. It was told by local storytellers that their former leader had found a new home in the deepest levels of the nearby temple. He was said to have found a mirror which turned him into a hideous and fearsome troll.
The people of that town were so grateful for the death of their mad leader, they happily gave Fatih his prized hoard of gold bars. The solid gold statue was crafted in mere days as Fatih relaxed and saw the sights of the area. The giant gold likeness was finished just in time for the ascent of a man to the role of High Lord.
The work of art was then carried back by...
"You just don't understand," Hassan grunted aloud, shaking the story from of his thoughts. "You'll never understand."
"I just don't understand what?" a deep voice asked from behind.
"Father!" Hassan yelped, turning to see King Fatih standing before him, dressed in his typical royal clothing. Similar to Hassan, King Fatih wore a headpiece and opaque loincloth of red. Draped over his massive chest and back lay a sheer cloth, greatly befitting his image as king.
"N-Nothing, Father..." Hassan mumbled, eyes averted. "Excuse me, I need to go. I'm late for calligraphy lesson."
"Don't lie to me," King Fatih snapped, grabbing his son by the wrist and pulling him back. "This is about your... fantasies, isn't it?"
Hassan looked into his dad's hard, blue eyes and gulped. He nodded his confession, feeling ashamed of himself. He didn't really want to go to calligraphy practice, but he'd gladly go for an entire day to the tedious study if it meant not having to have this discussion now.
"Enough, Hassan. You are a prince. You are my son! I've heard from the guards of your harassment and attempts to get them to... wrestle you. If you wish to take male lovers, you have my blessing. But I will not... no... I cannot allow this commoner fancy you've latched on to. You are to never speak of wrestling, nor are you to ever attempt to engage in it again. Do you understand me?" When the prince didn't speak up right away, he barked, "Hassan!"
The prince opened his mouth, ready to shout back in anger at his dad's stubborn and stupid beliefs, but he could only bring himself to lie, "Yes, Father..."
"I mean it this time. No more," King Fatih finished, walking away in silence.
Hassan loved his father deeply, but he felt oppressed under him. Though he was given anything he wanted, the one thing that seemed the most important to his very manhood was denied to him.
"I can't take it anymore..." he grunted to himself, fist clenched and trembling. He was a grown man and royalty be damned -- he was going to get what he needed! "Today is the day!" he then declared with a masculine pec bounce, rushing out to find his bodyguards!
"Come, Sahib; I know you want me inside you again," Lusala's husky voice cooed as his meaty, dark hands roamed the Arabian's big, sensitive pecs. He'd trapped the stud in the outdoor bath room while he was searching for Hassan.
Since they were alone, Lusala felt confident that he could finish seducing Sahib. He'd grown very fond of Sahib, but as a proud top, Lusala worked hard to ensure that any love of his remained with his bottom up and quivering. He wanted Sahib to submit his hole without having to wrestle him for it. He was finally close to making this big slab of muscle his bitch...
"No... I don't... nnh..." Sahib sighed, but allowed Lusala to freely attack his mammoth pecs and play with his erect nipples. Those thick digits twisted and pulled the puffy flesh, causing Sahib to lose his mind with lust. He couldn't hold out any longer. He needed Lusala to stretch his insides wide again. He wanted to drop to his knees and worship the fat cock that would surely be in him countless more times yet.
"Yes...!" he moaned hotly, ready to surrender himself fully. "Yes, please fuck--!"
"Sahib! Lusala!" suddenly came Hassan's voice from somewhere behind them.
"Hassan!" Sahib called enthusiastically, grateful for a good reason to slip away from Lusala's unbelievably-effective wiles. "I was just looking for you, but I couldn't--"
"I want to wrestle!" the prince interrupted, hand up to silence his servant.
"My Prince," Lusala spoke, moving to place his hand on Hassan's shoulder. "You know you are not allowed such a thing." When Hassan opened his mouth to angrily protest, the black warrior continued, "But... Perhaps if we were to call it 'self-defense' for a time when we are unable to protect you properly, your father will be more approving."
"He'd never believe so absurd a lie," Sahib sighed.
"Sahib! As Prince of the Kingdom of Al Fatih, I command you to wrestle me!"
"M-My Prince, I cannot..."
"You will wrestle me, Sahib," Hassan continued sternly, looking straight into the man's eyes and pointing at him. "If you refuse, I will have you retired from your duties!"
"You heard him," Lusala said, grinning broadly at Hassan's newfound attitude. He didn't quite approve of such underhanded blackmail, but seeing his prince grow into a strong man with firm convictions was well worth the price. He then moved behind Sahib and leaned close to his ear, mumbling, "Now's your chance to finally get your cock into another man. Perhaps you will finally put an end to your losing streak."
Before Sahib could yell at him for saying such a horrible thing, the African stud shouted, "Now GO!" and pushed him toward the prince!
Hassan's expression remained firm as he slipped his thumbs under the flexible strap that clung his loincloth tightly to his meaty hips. He slid his only covering down his massive thighs and allowed it to drop to the ground before kicking it aside. He then removed his headpiece and unhooked the thin wire that held his ponytail together, allowing his hair to be caressed by the warm desert air.
Although it was easy to see their prince's manhood through his diaphanous loincloth, for Lusala and Sahib to see him without a stitch of clothing on was nothing short of erotic.
"Men always wrestle nude, yes? I hear tales of the Greeks across the Mediterranean Sea. Their men, too, wrestle for their gods like this," Hassan spoke, standing before his protectors butt naked and proud of his muscular body. Hassan's cock grew hard in anticipation of the fight. He willed his manhood to rise in an attempt to intimidate and coax Sahib into battle.
"Sahib... I watched you this morning..." he then confessed, knowing the revelation would sting Sahib's pride. He hated to hurt him, but felt it was important to break his father's rule against wrestling. "I saw what you and Lusala did. I saw everything."
The older guard looked away in shame. His prince had indeed seen him submit in such a way to the winner of that match. Suddenly, a torrent of masculine pride arose deep inside his gut. He wanted to prove to Hassan that he was strong. And if the prince himself wished to be on the receiving end of such a lesson, what authority did he have to say no? Perhaps Lusala was correct and the king would believe that this was self-defense training.
"Okay, my Prince," Sahib grunted, returning Hassan's hard stare. He pulled down his loincloth of white and joined the royal son in his nudity. "I will give you what you want," he promised, holding his only clothing in his clenched fist. "And since you watched what Lusala did to me, you know the price of failure?"
"Then come, Hassan," Sahib spoke, spreading his arms wide in a welcoming gesture. "Come at me with all you have!"
Hassan leapt toward his bodyguard and tackled him to the soft, stone ground! The prince tried to wrap his arm around Sahib's torso and leg to fold him in half, but his clumsy technique left him open for attack. Sahib struck his exposed side, leaving his foe groaning in pain!
Hassan rolled away from Sahib, holding his tender side, a grimace on his handsome face. Sahib snorted. There were no down times or timeouts in combat. He moved to take advantage of the prince's foolishness by grabbing Hassan in a headlock, squeezing his muscular arm around his opponent's neck.
"Are you enjoying yourself, my Prince?" Sahib grunted arrogantly over Hassan's gasps and grunts. He easily maintained the appropriate amount of pressure -- just enough to punish him without knocking him out.
Lusala kneeled mere steps away and raised his fist up high, cheering for the wrestlers as they engaged in the ancient sport.
The royal son felt incredible in the mighty arms of his bodyguard. He struggled against the hold with all he could muster, but was utterly incapable of freeing himself. He could feel the fires of battle stoke the heat in his groin, pumping his cock full of life-giving blood.
Finally, Sahib freed his wrestling dummy, pushing him to the ground with a grunt. "Had enough?" he asked, tapping Hassan's coughing form with the tip of his foot. "Ready to go back to your old life? Ready to go back to masturbating yourself to something Daddy says you can't have?"
Lusala peeled off his loincloth and placed it carefully on the ground next to him. The African stud knelt back down and grabbed hold of his quickly-growing erection, pumping it quickly to the action taking place right in front of him.
Hassan rose to his feet and leapt once again at Sahib, grappling him in a test of strength. Both men bared their gritted teeth and growled as they pressed hard for total dominance over the other.
Sahib, victorious in the test of strength, quickly crouched down and used his ankle to sweep Hassan's leg, toppling the outmatched stud onto his royal butt! Hassan grunted and arched his back for a moment, hoping to lessen the pains in his tailbone. Sahib immediately pounced, pinning the prince down and grinding his hard cock against Hassan's helplessly-erect manhood.
"Haa... yeah..." Sahib moaned as he thrust his cock against Hassan's, effectively fucking him right then and there. "You get aroused by this kind of humiliation, don't you, boy?" he asked bluntly, too caught up in the heat of his utter dominance to think of the consequences. "I don't think you want to wrestle at all. I think you just want to lay there and be my bitch."
Hassan cried out in heat, causing Sahib to smirk. If his technique and strength weren't overwhelming enough, he would thoroughly dominate his opponent sexually, as well. He grabbed the king's son in a laying bearhug and quickly squeezed his sweaty upper body in the crushing hold.
"AUUUGH!!" Hassan screamed out, slapping the ground in pain!
"You can escape that easily, Hassan!" Lusala offered, jerking quickly at his thick, throbbing shaft. A drizzle of precum flew from the tip as his hand worked at bringing himself to orgasm. "I could get out of that in mere seconds. Your hands are free -- use them!"
Sahib grunted. Whose side was he on, anyway? The Arabian guard growled and locked down hard around his prince's beefy body, eliciting further screams of pain from the younger stud. But despite Lusala's good advice, Hassan never tried to attack Sahib's vulnerable head to free himself. The prince merely writhed in a futile effort to squirm out.
Growing bored with the hold, Sahib let his opponent go and sat upright. He spread his legs wide and grunted as Hassan's cock rose upright to rub against his. He threw punch after punch into the royal son's exposed gut, weakening the hard abs that protected his core.
"Ungh!" Hassan grunted with every slug until the breath was completely expelled from his lungs. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt such agony. Yet, despite the pain he was undergoing, his cock remained rigid and throbbing and he felt all the more aroused.
Hassan rolled on his side and coughed. He didn't put up much a fight when Sahib rolled him onto his belly and mounted his body. He could feel his guard's fat cock rub vigorously against his sweat-laced butt as he got him into position for another headlock.
"This what you wanted?" Sahib grunted lowly and lustfully. "You want me to put you out and be done with it?"
"N-No...!!" Hassan yelped, face turning red as he struggled to get out of the hold. He knew from their first contact that he was going to lose, but he wasn't ready for it to be over just yet. He could feel Sahib's sweat-slicked grip loosening. Finally, he managed to pull his head free and push his opponent off and away.
Hassan breathed deeply, struggling to feed oxygen to his limbs and get back in the fight.
"Do you think our enemies would give you such luxury in a real fight?!" Sahib growled, grabbing Hassan's arms and pulling them back firmly. The Arabian prince's chest thrust out toward Lusala, who continued to stroke himself to the sight.
"He is right, my Prince," the African spoke deeply, his voice a slight moan. "And oftentimes those encounters are anything but fair." He moved closer to Hassan and lowered his mouth to one of his nipples. Taking the hard peak of flesh between his lips and teeth, he sucked and chewed it roughly, causing Hassan to scream out in pleasure.
Lusala greatly enjoyed pleasing his prince in such an erotic way. Those big, puffy nipples tasted like candy melting in his mouth as he alternated between the two, holding Hassan's beefy body still as he worked him over. He could feel Hassan's heart beat wildly in his chest as he sucked, and the sweat that trickled down to his lips tasted sweet with the prince's scent.
Hassan's cock, throbbing and soaking wet with precum and sweat, bounced and wagged with his every ragged breath. The heat of his two guards were surely more intense than the sun itself. Their warmth and scents enveloped him in an overwhelming array of man sex.
"Do you give in, Hassan Fatih?!" Sahib bellowed at the prince. The mushroom head of his fat cock rubbed insistently against Hassan's puckering hole, threatening to invade at any second. "Give up!" he growled, increasing the pressure on his hold.
"YES! YES, I GIVE IN!!" Hassan finally cried out his surrender. He went limp against his attacker's body and allowed Sahib's cock to plunge deep inside his hole, skewering him unmercifully. Sahib's powerful legs slowly lowered their bodies closer to the ground.
The guard groaned out hotly as Hassan's inner flesh squeezed and massaged his victorious manhood. It'd been so long since he'd fucked another man's ass, he'd nearly forgotten how incredible it felt. Testosterone from their wrestling surged through his veins, giving drive to his gyrating hips.
Hassan's cries of passion never ceased as Sahib bred his tight backside with urgency. That hot length screwed him quickly, mashing against his prostate in ways he'd never felt before.
"S-Sahib...! A... ahh...!!" he moaned lewdly, his arms still bound by Sahib's. His big pecs and his leaking erection bounced with his dominator's every firm thrust inside him.
When Lusala made a move to have the prince suck his heavy erection, Sahib growled at his fellow guard and spat, "Back off! He's mine!"
Lusala nodded his understanding and backed away. He realized that this was partially his fault. His superiority in wrestling had the Arabian pent up for so long, his first victory against another sparring partner would naturally result in such an explosion. Knowing that he'd likely have the prince sucking his cock some time soon anyhow, he let it go.
"Incredible," Sahib grunted as his hips slammed against Hassan, breeding him quickly. "I'm fucking Prince Hassan... So tight... Augh...!!"
"I... ahh... can't... I'm cumming!!" Hassan breathlessly screamed as he shot his seed. Without even touching himself, his manhood spurt high into the air, splattering the stone floor below. His tight hole closed down on Sahib like a vise, constricting and spasming around the victorious wrestler's cock.
Sahib thrust himself inside one last time before howling out in heat, emptying his essence into his bitch. The guard maintained a long, low moan as he rode out his orgasm. His groin slapped loudly against Hassan's muscle butt as he continued to thrust himself inside, depositing every last drop of cum.
Sahib's legs gave out and toppled them to the ground. Guard and prince panted as they wound down from their climax.
"What... did I do?" Sahib groaned, pulling himself from Hassan and moving himself away. The large load of cum he spurt into his prince's well-fucked hole began seeping out, coating the tiles under them. "What have I done?" he sighed, laying on his back and covering his sweat-drenched face with his hand. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind in a whirlwind of regret. He'd fucked his prince, disobeyed his king, and lashed out at a fellow guard like a jealous beast.
"Sahib... Lusala..." Hassan suddenly moaned, anything but regretful. He turned his smiling face to them both and continued, "That was... amazing... I can't wait to wrestle you both again!"
"Wrestle?" came a deep, low voice from the entryway. King Fatih's eyes narrowed in anger as he stepped into the bath room. Lusala, Hassan, and Sahib looked silently in shock at their king. Hassan and Sahib scrambled to their feet, their quickly-softening manhoods still leaking their sweet lubricants in thin strands.
"What were you doing with my son?!" King Fatih then roared, his fists clenched. Two of the nearby Ruby Guard came racing into the bath room, halting obediently behind their beloved king. They stared at Prince Hassan and his guards in an erotic state.
Sahib and Lusala dropped to their knees and lowered their heads before their king.
"It... it was my fault, Father! I commanded them to... to teach me to defend myself!"
"Still your tongue, Hassan. You know not enough to say such a thing. You both," the king growled, looking down upon Sahib's and Lusala's prostrated forms, "leave these lands before I have you stoned!"
"NO!" Hassan shouted, falling to his knees before the king. His gut felt like it had been hit by a fallen pillar. He'd rarely seen his father so angry. He loved his dad very much, but his aggressive side frightened him, too. He knew that his father wouldn't harm them, but he couldn't let his protectors be blamed for his actions. "It was my fault! Mine! Don't throw them out! I'm the one who disobeyed you."
But King Fatih never looked once at his son; his focus remained fixed on the men who had betrayed his trust.
"I hereby exile you both from--"
"YOU NEVER HEAR ME!!" Hassan roared at his father, silencing his judgment.
He rose to his feet and lowered his eyes. "Please spare them," he continued in a softer tone. "They're good men. I love them both and they have always kept me and our kingdom safe. I renounce my princedom for their sake, Father. I have disobeyed you for the last time."
His eyes overflowing with tears, Hassan ran from the bath room and out to the outer perimeter of the palace. Part of him felt a sort of freedom now that he'd abdicated his royalty. He wasn't born to be a king, let alone a prince. He prayed to the gods that his actions had spared Lusala and Sahib. His father was a kind man, but when angered, his decisions were frighteningly unpredictable. He could only hope that he'd done the right thing. He could never return again.
Hassan quickly made his way to the king's prized stable of horses where his beloved white stallion, Zubair, stood with the others, grazing on the finest grains.
"Hey, boy. You get plenty to drink and eat?" he spoke gently, giving the horse's inquisitive face a pat before hopping up onto his back. Zubair snorted and bobbed his head appreciatively. "We need to leave now. There's no time for us to say goodbye to anyone."
With a heavy heart and a lump in his throat, Hassan bade a silent goodbye to his home and sped off into the desert without his loincloth or headpiece. Knowing that his father would certainly scour the town for his whereabouts, Hassan fled south toward the jungle country often spoken fondly of by Lusala. Yes, the defiant prince thought, he would find a new home and start over.
What he didn't realize, however, was that fate would lead him straight to a dangerous man angered deeply by the kingdom of Al Fatih. That man would certainly welcome Hassan into his open arms and never let him go again.