Taming the Tsarevich Ch. 01-02

Soon the Prince's ass had turned the color of ripened apples, and with each successive slap, he cried out helplessly, writhing against the scraps of cloth that held him pinned to the spot. His naked limbs looked quite enchanting as they struggled, the muscles bulging and straining beneath the smooth, white skin. "Stop!" Nikolai gasped suddenly, turning his head as best he could to look back at Maxim, who was taken aback slightly by the fresh tear tracks running down from the Prince's blue, blue eyes. "Stop," Nikolai said again, fighting for breath. "Please stop, Maxim, I'll do anything. This is too much. Challenge me to a duel if you must, but leave off with this."

Maxim paused for a moment and then walked so that he stood before Nikolai's bowed head. "Oh Kolya," he murmured, stroking the Prince's hair gently, "Ready to give in already?"

"Yes, please, just stop this. I don't—I can't—just please stop and we will never speak of this again. I won't even try to retaliate, you have my word."

"But I haven't finished, Tsarevich." Maxim said, still stroking Nikolai's hair. So saying, he picked up the Prince's absurdly ornate sword once more. He held it up to the light, examining the broad, flat blade, and then he bent down, extracted Nikolai's wide leather sheath from the jumble of rags which had once been his clothes, and slid the sword inside of it. Then he held it up once more, showing it to Nikolai before bringing the heavy leather sheath down hard on the Prince's reddened ass. He cried out very loudly this time, positively squirming as if trying to escape the next blow. Maxim brought the sword in its scabbard down over and over again, showering hard, stinging blows down upon Nikolai's ass, thighs and calves.

Soon the Prince had begun to cry in earnest, all dignity forgotten as he writhed against the wooden stool, trying to avoid to the relentless blows. Throughout this all, however, Maxim observed through periodic caresses that Nikolai's cock remained quite erect. He had been right. The sparks of submission and humility which he had sensed within the Prince were certainly there, but the boy was refusing to give in to his own desires. They had been buried beneath the layers of arrogance and self-importance which were the products of a childhood spent being spoiled and invincible to punishment. In a way, Nikolai was as much a prisoner as Maxim himself had once been; he was a man who obviously longed to submit, and yet for the Prince's entire life, he had been taught that he was not to bend to the will of any other man. He delivered a dozen more slaps with the scabbard and Nikolai cried out with each one of them, although he no longer fought his bindings. Maxim stopped after delivering one final hard blow, allowing the echoes to die away before he bent and began to untie the knots binding the Prince to the wooden stool. Nikolai lay with his face pressed against the wood, his shoulders shaking as he tried to muffle his sobs. His ass was bright red, crisscrossed with welts and hot to the touch, and his entire body trembled. When the last scrap of cloth fell to the floor, Maxim bent and scooped Nikolai into his arms as if he weighed nothing more than a child. He then began to walk slowly towards the door on the far side of the room, heading for the Prince's bed chamber.

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Nikolai was in shock. He lay cradled in Maxim Ivanovich's arms like a ragdoll, trembling and weak, crying like a little girl. But the warmth of Maxim's body was somehow comforting, and Nikolai was too disoriented to question the feeling of security he gained from being in this position. His ass ached and stung, and even the gentle friction as the tender flesh was rubbed against the soft velvet of Maxim's shirt was enough to make him bite his lips against a cry of pain. He tried not to think about how he had acted during his beating, or to wonder why he was so helplessly, undeniably aroused. His cock felt like a live thing, throbbing and pulsing with blood and aching for release. If Maxim were to caress him again as he had done when Nikolai had been tied to that stool, the Prince was afraid that he wouldn't be able to stop himself from coming. It was witchcraft of course; there could be no other explanation for it; for how could he be so aroused by being stripped naked and beaten, and by another man at that?

He only realized where Maxim had been carrying him when he felt himself being placed gently upon his own bed. He scrabbled into a sitting position with his back against the headboard and his legs crooked in front of him, watching Maxim through lidded eyes. The man still had a sword buckled around his waist and Nikolai was naked. There was no way that he could defend himself should he try to draw Maxim into another altercation. He closed his eyes, and felt the bed depress as Maxim joined him upon it. When he opened his eyes, Maxim was lying next to him, propped up on one arm, and staring at him with the strangest expression upon his face. Silence spun out, and finally, Nikolai could stand it no longer.

"What do you want from me, Maxim?" He asked.

Maxim paused for so long that the Prince didn't think that he was going to bother to answer, but then he said, "I want to turn you into a Prince, Kolya." He reached out a hand and stroked Nikolai's hair away from his forehead.

"But I'm a Prince already."

"You're the son of the Tsar. It is not the same thing."

"Then what is a Prince?"

"A Prince is a man willing to put the needs of others before the needs of himself. A Prince is the humble servant of his country. You, Kolya, are humble and servile to no one, not even to your father or to the country which gives you your power."

"You think that by beating me, you will make me humble?" Fury was beginning to bubble up within Nikolai again. He had the blood of Tsars running through his veins. Did Maxim think that he could push all that away, that he could make a future King into a lapdog, always toadying to the whims of others?

"There is more to it than beatings, Nikolai, but certainly, this last spanking has done you some good. You're much more communicative now than you were an hour ago. But enough talk." Maxim reached between Nikolai's legs and took hold of his cock. Nikolai cried out miserably, jolting back against the headboard in a combination of shock and pleasure at the rush of sensations which filled him at the instant of Maxim's touch. "Hush, princeling," Maxim murmured, beginning to work his hand slowly up and down Nikolai's cock, coaxing it back to full and agonizing erection with gentle, insistent friction. It was as if all of the strength in the Prince's body had fled to his cock, which felt as if it had acquired a life of his own, one designed to torment him. His muscles went lax and he slumped back against the pillows. His legs fell open and as if in reward, Maxim quickened his caresses, making Nikolai release a series of fast, broken cries.

"See, it isn't so bad is it?" Maxim said, taking his hand away after one last lingering stroke. "Now hold still, Kolya, and just relax." He sat up and Nikolai watched as he pulled a length of black silk from one of his pockets. In one swift motion, Maxim had tied the cloth securely over the Prince's eyes. The world went black, and as it did so, all of Nikolai's other senses seemed to truly come alive. His skin felt hot and sensitive, and his nose could detect all of the aspects of the peculiar perfume which hung about Maxim; that strange mixture of old leather, and wood smoke with the barest hint of exotic spices. He felt hands moving him, stretching his limbs so that his arms were pinned over his head, and then his hands had been tied together with another length of cloth to one of the thick rope tassels of the bed's canopy. Maxim's fingers ran over Nikolai's flesh, making him shiver and jump. His nipples were rolled and pinched, and he gasped when Maxim fastened his mouth over one of them, sucking it hard and then nipping at it with his teeth. Maxim's mouth began to work its way lower, trailing wet, burning kisses down Nikolai's chest and belly, his thighs, his groin.

The Prince's hands were balled into tight, almost painful fists. A part of him was shouting that he was a coward and a perverted fool for allowing this travesty to continue, but its voice had grown distant, fuzzy. He felt as if his head had been filled with a warm, perfumed mist, a vapor which clouded thought and made pleasure the imperative. So, when Maxim's lips closed gently around the very tip of Nikolai's cock, he could only groan and thrust his hips forward, begging mutely for a deeper caress.

There was a deep, melodic chuckle that made Maxim's lips flutter over Nikolai's tender flesh before he raised his head to speak. The Prince gasped. "I'm glad to see you've had a change of heart, Kolya. That will make things much easier." And then Nikolai was being enfolded by warm, wet lips and bewitched by a dexterous, eager tongue. The Prince cried out, and his hips thrust upwards of their own accord, driving his cock deeper into Maxim's mouth. Hands pushed against his pelvis, holding him still as the mouth went to work, gliding up and down on his shaft, sucking, the tongue circling him over and over again. There was no way he could stop himself from coming under such attentions, he was quite sure. He felt the orgasm coiling up inside of him, like some great sleek jungle cat poised to spring on some helpless prey. He was almost there, just another second—and then Maxim's mouth was gone. Nikolai moaned, trying not squirm in a vain effort to grant himself release. His hands were imprisoned by the scarves and the blindfold kept his world a shadow. He began to force himself to breathe deeply and evenly, willing reason to reassert itself in his brain.

His breath caught, however, when he felt the cheeks of his ass being spread by a strong, implacable hand. Gentle fingers began to rub something cool and wet onto Nikolai's anus. He had never even touched himself in such a way before and was shocked not so much by the alien sensation of being so caressed, but at the jolts of pleasure that went through him as Maxim massaged the substance into the puckered ring of his anus. When he slipped a finger inside of Nikolai and began to work it gently in and out, the Prince could not stop himself from trying to jerk away. The sensation was so strange, so intense. Maxim paid no attention to the movement, only guided him back into position with one hand, the other still busily smoothing the ointment into Nikolai's flesh.

As Maxim inserted another finger inside of him and began to pump the two of them slowly in and out of his anus, stretching the tight opening almost to the point of pain, a premonition of what was to come next suddenly struck him. Nikolai began to struggle in earnest, trying to free his hands from the scarf. "Hush, Kolya," Maim said, his voice low and gentle. The fingers were removed from his anus, and he relaxed slightly. Nikolai heard the whispered rustle of clothing, felt the bed moving as Maxim positioned himself in front of him, directly between his splayed legs. Hands grasped his ankles and his legs were being hoisted into the air, the cheeks of his ass spread wide. Something prodded at his opening, gently at first, only testing him, and then with more insistence. Maxim's hands clutched him hard, just once, and then the bed gave a creak as he pushed his entire length inside of the Prince's tight, unyielding hole. The pain was intense, but there was pleasure there too, a savage burning pleasure that would have made him scream to the rafters if Maxim had not caught the sound with his own mouth. He kissed Nikolai hard, holding his lower body perfectly still, giving the Prince time to adjust to his presence. Soon the pain of Maxim's entry eased a bit, and Nikolai's body relaxed slightly as the man before him began to thrust gently in and out, in and out. The pain evaporated and now the friction of Maxim's thrusts sent bolts of pleasure lancing through him.

"Do you like this Kolya?" Maxim's voice murmured, slightly out of breath. Nikolai didn't answer, and the pace of Maxim's thrusting increased. Now he was being rammed into, the pain returning to mix with the pleasure to form some wholly new sensation. "Answer me princeling!" A hand found Nikolai's cock and began to pump rapidly up and down upon it. The Prince barely stopped himself from screaming aloud.

"Yes!" He gasped, hands clutching at one another in their bindings.

"Yes what?"

"I like this."

"You like being fucked by another man, don't you Kolya?" Maxim increased his pace once more, driving into Nikolai at a frenzied speed. It was amazing to the Prince that his body was even able to contain him. The pain was still there, deep, aching, undeniable, but it no longer seemed to matter. Nikolai had begun to pant and gasp, to strain up against Maxim, not in the hope for any sort of reprieve but because he needed more contact, more of Maxim's hard, tormenting cock inside of him.

"Yes!" he cried, not feeling shame or anger or disgust but only elation and that all consuming mix of pleasure-pain. He was going to come any second now. He could feel the force of his climax building deep in the pit of his belly. "Maxim," he said, struggling to make his voice understandable through his convulsive gasps and cries. "Maxim..." but he couldn't say it. In the next moment he felt the blindfold ripped from his eyes, and he was staring into Maxim's face. The man's ocher eyes bore into his, seeming to radiate heat, and the sudden eye contact sent a jolt shimmering through Nikolai's body. He cried out and fluid began to leak from the tip of his cock, the precursor to his final eruption.

Maxim's sensuous lips curved into a smile as he said, "Are you ready to come Kolya?"

"Yes," Nikolai gasped, "Yes, yes—"

Maxim suddenly froze. Nikolai looked at him, and saw that his eyes were far away. Then animation roared back into him and he gave a single ramming thrust pushing the Prince so far forward that his head bumped against the headboard. Nikolai felt it begin to happen then. Coils of heat began to ripple in his abdomen, growing hotter and hotter until they finally exploded in a burst of maddening, all-consuming pleasure. He screamed as his seed shot out of him and his body began to convulse helplessly with the force of his orgasm. Dimly, he was aware that Maxim too had reached climax, and that he was being ridden in a series of hard, erratic thrusts. Finally, the last ripple of sensation died and Nikolai slumped to the bed, panting and utterly exhausted, eyes closed, Maxim still sheathed inside of him. He felt himself being emptied. He opened his eyes and saw Maxim, still fully clothed, reaching up to untie his hands. Nikolai could not bring himself to meet the man's eyes, so he looked down at his lap, trying to ignore the fact that his cock was still half-erect even though he had just come harder than he had ever done in his life.

Silence spun out between the two of them. Maxim was rearranging his clothes and tidying his hair. After a moment, he turned to Nikolai and said, "Well done Tsarevich." He leaned forward and kissed the Prince then, a hard, hot crushing of the lips. His tongue slipped briefly into Nikolai's mouth, giving just a single flick before Maxim broke away. The Prince could only stare at him. His muscles all felt lax and his head felt as if it had been stuffed with cotton wool. His ass was beginning to hurt quite badly now, both from his earlier beating and the more recent ravishing, but the pain seemed insignificant next to the torrent of emotions which were fighting for purchase inside of him. He should be feeling disgusted, defiled, should be shouting for the guards to have Maxim killed upon the spot, but he wasn't. It was as if Maxim had awoken another Nikolai, a man who cared nothing for prestige or power, but one who would be perfectly content to become a whipping boy.

"Maxim..." Nikolai said, his voice hoarse. "What just happened?"

"You know perfectly well what happened, Kolya, you're not naïve."

"I still don't understand—"

"You don't have to, Kolya. It's already working." Maxim smiled wryly. "Do you think you would have been able to speak to me with even a modicum of politeness earlier this afternoon? You are already much more amiable a man than you were, Tsarevich."

"But—" Nikolai began, but Maxim hushed him by giving him another of those scalding kisses. Then he turned, and leaving Nikolai sitting sprawled naked on the bed, walked to the bedchamber door.

"I'll be back to see you again tomorrow night at ten o' clock, Kolya," said Maxim, his voice devoid of inflection, and then he had gone, leaving Nikolai alone in his bed with only his tender, aching body and his conflicted thoughts for company.

To be continued...