THE PRINCE 2
Mr. Burrows, the chief Procuror for the Cartel..
🕑 Added 2022-01-26 02:19:44 +0000 UTC
THE PRINCE 2
Mr. Burrows, the chief Procuror for the Cartel, laid on top of the prince’s personal bodyguard, with his cock buried deep inside the handsome middle eastern man’s once straight ass.
“It feels good being bred like a mare doesn’t it,” Burrows whiinto Omar’s left ear.
“Yesss,” Omar moaned.
“You will do whatever I want. The more you obey the more turn on you become. Understand,” Burrows eased his cock in and out of the younger man’s ruined hole.
“Yess, sir,” Omar gripped the sheets.
“You are going to help me capture your prince and make him feel as good as you feel now,” the Procuror licked Omar’s sensitive earlobe.
“Oh, ah, yes, make him feel good as I do,” Omar moaned.
“Good, boy,” Burrows picked up on his thrusting, once again fucking the straight bodyguard.
Omar gripped the sheets in his fist tighter as he pushed his ass back toward the older man.
Later in the day, Omar was following the Prince around the high end department store. The only thing Abdullah loves more than women is clothes.
“Who was the hot lady you had over last night,” Prince Abdullah whispered as he and Omar walked through the men's selection. The prince ran his hands over the expensive silk ties.
“I don’t know what you mean,” Omar whispered back. His eyes behind his sunglasses scanned the store for any threat to his ward.
The prince laughed, “the hotel walls aren’t very thick, my friend.”
“I am married, my highness,” Omar looked at the prince defensively.
“So am I, my friend,” Abdullah laughed again.
Omar looked at his prince, as Abdullah moved to the dress shirts and began to look at a white, button up silk shirt. The prince motioned the tailor who was standing back from them as they browsed. The tailor moved forward to assist the prince. For the first time, Omar felt no loyalty to his prince and friend. His only loyalty now is to the Cartel. Also for the first time he noticed how muscular and handsome the prince was. He followed the prince and the tailor into one of the dressing rooms. Standing before the wall of mirrors, the tailor unbuttoned the prince’s shirt and peel it off his wide shoulders. Abdullah’s was surprisingly smooth. Omar never understood the prince’s obsession with bodybuilding and the western idea of smooth chests being attractive, until now. Mr. Burrows was correct when he called the prince a work of beauty. Omar could barely contain his hard on in his suit pants as the tailor adjusted the white silk shirt to fit the prince perfectly. Omar couldn’t wait for Burrows to get his hands on Abdullah and make him his bitch just like he did to Omar the night before.
“Earth to Omar,” Abdullah slapped his finger. “I can’t have my bodyguard daydreaming,” the prince laughed.
“Sorry, majesty,” Omar turned red in embarrassment.
Later that evening Prince Abdullah and Omar had dinner in the hotel's elegant dining room. The prince forgo his suit jacket for a casual dinner in his new soft silk shirt. The shirt showed off his lean, muscular body nicely. He was turning quite a few women's heads.
“Hello, Omar,” Mr. Burrows approached the table, catching the Prince off guard.
Omar stood to greet the older man as Abdullah remained seated, surprised that his bodyguard would know anyone in the city.
“Greetings Mr. Burrows,” Omar reached over the prince and shook the older man’s hand.
Without being asked to join them, Burrows sat down at the table. The prince was between the two men and was feeling uncomfortable.
“Omar, do you know this man,” the prince turned to his bodyguard.
“Yes, majesty. Omar and I are well acquainted,” Burrows replied, moving his chair closer to the prince.
“From where are you acquainted,” the Prince suddenly felt Omar’s hand on his left thigh and a sharp pinch. “What is the meaning of this?”
Prince Abdullah tried to pull away from both men, but his muscular legs felt weak.
“Ssshh, my prince. Just sit back down like a good boy,” Burrows put his arm around the younger man and pulled him back into the seat.
The prince’s eyes widened as he felt the older man's hands under the table, stroking his fast growing cock. He turned toward Omar in panic but realized that he had been betrayed by his own bodyguard. Omar was looking down at Abdullah’s hard bulging crotch with a look of hunger in his eyes as Mr. Burrows was stroking and squeezing it.
“You two are going to be good boys, and do whatever I tell you,” Burrows whispered into the prince’s ear, his tongue gently licking the right earlobe.
“Yes,” Abdullah found himself growing relaxed as he looked back at the stranger.
He was suddenly over came with a blissful feeling of submissiveness and obedience.
“Omar been a very loyal puppy to you and now he serves a greater master. You soon are going to be very appreciative to him for helping you to realize your destiny in serving the Cartel,” Burrows continued to stroke the prince, moving his hand up and stroking the flat firm stomach through the silk shirt.
Meanwhile, Omar’s right hand continues to stroke the Prince’s muscular leg under the table. The more the two men touched and groped him, the more aroused the conservative prince became. It was hard for Abdullah to think. A part of him wanted to fight but another part wanted to submit and open his pants to jerk off right there in the restaurant. All of his religious upbringing was forgotten. All he could think about was how good it was to obey and serve.
“Yet go back to your suite your majesty,” Burrows whispered and both Omar and himself helped the prince up.
Their hard cocks were quite noticeable as Omar and Abdullah exited the restaurant. Burrows smiled as he heard several whispers from other guests at the restaurant. The prince appeared to be very well endowed.
As they stood in the elevator, Burrows ran his hand over both middle eastern men’s well-developed asses. Abdullah never realized how good it was to get felt up by another man. Burrows grip on his plump ass cheeks were firm and strong. Neither Omar or Abdullah couldn’t wait to get back to the suite, to be along with their new master. Once inside the privacy of the penthouse suite, Burrows ordered the two masculine men to make out and undress each other. Omar didn’t hesitate as he began to make out with his future king. His long fingers unbuttoning the prince’s shirt, pulling it open. Their tongues were exploring each other’s mouths. Burrows picked up his cellphone and began to record them kissing and exploring each other’s bodies. The footage would be proof to his employers of his success and to guarantee that the future king stays in line and loyal to the cartel.
After the two new slaves undress each other, Burrows stopped them and ordered them on to their kneels. Burrows smiled down at the once arrogant prince and his handsome bodyguard. Both men looked up at him obediently as the older man guided their heads onto his cock. Omar and Abdullah shared the thick cock as it slid between their lips.
All of Abdullah’s life he was raised to feel superior to other men. For the first time in his life he was no longer in charge. He was now nothing but another man’s slave.
Burrows was enjoying the two fit younger men. The once arrogant men were slurping and bobbing their heads on his cock. He want to fuck the muscle bound prince, but he knew better then to touch the merchandise. The Cartel’s chairman, himself, wanted to be the first to mount the future king. Instead Burrows spent the rest of the night training and taking both men deeper under the Cartel’s control.
A day later, Abdullah’s father was killed in a car bombing and Abdullah succeeded him as king. His first act was to make Omar the head of the secret police and announce social reforms, including the legalization of homosexuality.
On the day of Abdullah's accession to the throne, the Cartel’s board members gathered in the palace to celebrate their victory. The door to the private chamber opened and King Abdullah walked into the lavish room in his traditional robes. He waved his guards away. Once the door was closed behind him, he approached the chairman of the cartel. In his country, as king he was as close to god as any man could be, but compared to the power of the men before him, Abdullah was just a pawn. As he stood before the powerful Chairman, the king allowed his gold lined robes to fall to the marble floors. He then lifted his long tunic and revealed his well developed, sculpted legs.
“Bend over the desk,” the chairman ordered as he undid his pants.
Although he was king, before the cartel Abdullah was nothing. He bent over the antique gold desk. The chairman pulled the white robe over the king’s head to expose Abdullah's muscular freshly shaved buttocks. Abdullah moaned loud as he was fucked hard and deep. His eyes rolled up in pleasure. The chairman pulled out and slammed back in, over and over. After the chairman came deep inside him and pulled out, each of his fellow board members then took turns fucking the new king. Each man came deep inside the king, coronating him.
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