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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

HMS Belvidera - 15. Chapter 15

October, 1795

Carlton House was glittering as usual. Granger smiled at Caroline as they were announced. The light from the candles sparkled as it went through the prisms of the diamond necklace Granger had just bought her, visual evidence of his success. “You look stunning tonight, dear,” he said.

“Why thank you,” she replied flirtatiously. They made their way toward the Prince of Wales, determined to pay their respects. He was playing Hazard, as usual. He spotted Granger, who bowed low while Caroline curtsied.

“Granger, you're back from the ends of the earth,” the Prince said.

“I am, Your Royal Highness,” Granger said pleasantly.

“And you brought your lovely wife,” he said, leering slightly at Caroline. “My dear, it has been quite some time since we've seen you here.”

“I am unwilling to come alone lest I fall victim to your advances, Your Royal Highness,” Caroline said, blatantly flirting. But the Prince just roared with laughter.

“Come join us,” he said to Granger. Caroline curtsied and went off to socialize, while Granger took the dice and threw out.

“A good start Granger,” Lord Fitzwilliam said.

“Not for me, I fear, my lord,” Granger said. “How is your son?”

“I received a letter from him and he was still sailing about on that little ship, running errands for the fleet,” Fitzwilliam said. “He sounds gloriously happy.” Granger thought about Fitzwilliam and Humphreys on the brig, no doubt fucking each other's brains out. The boy would be happy.

“I am gratified to hear it, my lord,” Granger said. He threw again and collected a goodly amount of money from the Duke of Portland.

“First you get my son wounded; now you take all my money. Sadly, you're one of the best friends I have in this town,” he said to Granger. They all laughed.

“I must beg Your Grace's pardon on lightening your purse. I will endeavor to put the money to good use,” Granger teased. “Your son is quite brave.”

“Indeed?” Portland asked, and the others looked at him as well. Granger was sure the Duke knew the story of Cavendish's wound, but he wanted his son's bravery to be public. Granger willingly obliged.

“He was wounded as he was saving my life, Your Grace. He pushed me out of the way of a falling spar, and got a splinter wound on the back of his thigh for his efforts,” Granger said.

“It seems he was willing to jump into battle when your admiral was not,” the Prince of Wales observed. They all snickered, and Granger thought it best to say nothing.

Granger sensed that something was wrong, and turned to see Charles James Fox approach, bowing to the Prince. “Fox, you here to spoil my party?” the Prince asked affably.

“You could almost do that just by being here,” Portland said, teasing him.

“Your Grace makes me feel most unwelcome,” Fox sniffed, but he laughed along with the others. “I see you're here Granger. Spending some of the prize money you deserted that convoy to run off and grab?”

“I am,” Granger said, seeming to ignore the barb. “I was wondering...” Granger said, pausing for effect. “If I recall correctly, when I returned from India you accosted me about my performance and told me that Rear Admiral Wilcox was one of the finest admirals in the Navy.”

Fox glared at him. “So? Are you implying that he isn't?”

“Are you implying that he is?” Granger countered. Everyone looked at Fox, waiting for an answer, waiting to see if he'd stake his own reputation to try and save Wilcox's. He didn't.

“I will leave that judgment to others more qualified to rule on naval matters,” he said imperiously.

“That's good news for you Granger! That means he's not planning to be First Lord anytime soon,” the Prince said, making them all laugh.

“I would have to compromise my principles and join the government to do that, Your Royal Highness,” Fox said, giving Portland a sideways glance. Granger saw the Duke turn red with fury. “A good evening to you, sir,” Fox said to the Prince, and made his way off to torture others.

“As unpleasant as Fox's visits are, he does seem to be a good luck charm for me,” Granger said. “I must beg your pardon for taking yet more of your money, Your Grace.” Granger looked at the Duke, smiling, and pulled him out of his fury. Granger spent a goodly amount of time at the Hazard table, rubbing elbows with the country's premier Whig politicians, but he had seen his fortunes that night rise and fall, and when he found himself on the positive side, he decided that he should take his leave.

Granger had expected others to question him about his action, or his capture of the prize, but none of that happened. He was looking for Caroline when he felt a hand gently grab his elbow.

“Arthur!” Granger said as he turned around. “How splendid to run into you!”

“I think I will end up enjoying our last encounter better,” he said, smiling.

“But perhaps not the next,” Granger teased, flirting.

“Indeed,” he said. “I would like to speak with you, if you have a moment.”

Granger followed him off to an alcove. “What is it Arthur?” Granger asked. Teasdale looked uncharacteristically worried.

“You asked me to find out how I could give you the information you requested,” he said formally. “In order to do that, you will have to come with me tomorrow at nine o'clock in the morning. You must be prepared to pledge your solemn oath of silence, whether or not you ultimately are accepted.”

“Accepted?” Granger asked.

“You are not allowed to ask questions, only to provide answers,” Arthur said firmly. His tone was so severe, so serious, that it almost took Granger aback.

“Then I will be ready for you at nine o'clock,” Granger said simply. “I have already given you my pledge of silence. I will gladly do so again.”

“Then I will see you then,” he said. “Your second-best uniform will be appropriate.”

“Thank you, Arthur,” Granger said. He searched around the party until he found Caroline. “Are you ready to go dear?” he asked her.

“I am,” she said. She looked as tired as Granger felt. He was leading her through the crowd when he ran into Sir John Jervis.

“Granger,” he said formally. “Your servant, ma'am,” he said to Caroline, much more pleasantly.

“It's a pleasure to see you Sir John,” Caroline said, almost coquettishly.

“The pleasure is most assuredly on my end,” he said gallantly.

“I did not know you were still in England, sir,” Granger said nervously. “Otherwise I would have called on you.”

“I did not expect to still be stuck in England,” Jervis groused. “I sit here while Hotham makes a hash of everything. It's a bloody disgrace. I beg your pardon ma'am,” he said, remembering too late Caroline was there. She merely curtsied to acknowledge his apology.

“I heard of the action where the Ça Ira was captured, sir,” Granger said sadly. Hotham had had a chance to engage the French fleet and had botched it up completely. Jervis didn’t seem to hear him.

“You are ready to sail?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Granger said. “We are loading stores as we speak.”

“Today is Monday,” Jervis said, more to himself. “Meet me at the Admiralty on Thursday,” he ordered. “Nine o'clock in the morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Granger said. It seemed that nine o'clock was the preferred hour to do business in London. They took their leave of him and wandered out to await their carriage.

“Do you think he will send you back to sea?” Caroline asked.

“I don't know,” Granger said. “I am meeting Arthur tomorrow at nine o'clock.”

“What for?” she asked.

“He did not say,” Granger said. “But it seemed important.”

“I have learned to trust Arthur,” Caroline said. “And in London, that is saying something.” He laughed with her as he handed her up into the carriage. They got home and made love, and then, lying in the bed with Caroline, completely sated, Granger finally had a chance to think about Arthur.

He had seemed so serious, which was so unlike Arthur. It was almost unthinkable that Granger could consciously flirt with him and he could still remain impassive. What could be weighing on his mind? What was it that had him so tense? Granger could only wonder, until the wondering exhausted his mind and he was able to sleep.


 

Granger climbed into the carriage after Arthur. If anything, he seemed more nervous today than he did last night. The carriage drove off as soon as the door closed, taking a course that would lead it away from the city.

“Are you alright?” Granger asked.

“This is a serious business,” Arthur said. “You are my second candidate. The first one didn't work out very well.”

“Your second candidate? For what?” Granger asked.

“You asked who was behind Captain Travers, who was watching out for him while he was at sea,” Arthur said. “It is not a person, it is a group, a powerful group.”

“A group? Like the Masons?” Granger asked.

“A group, with perhaps some similarity to the Masons,” Arthur said. “It is a group of men that appreciate other men.”

“You mean it's like a buggery club?” Granger asked, his tone part playful, part astonished.

“That would be a side benefit,” Arthur responded playfully, then got serious again.

“So what is it, a bunch of old men who seek young men and enlist them for their pleasure?” Granger asked skeptically.

“You have never enjoyed the pleasures of being with an older man?” Arthur asked him pointedly. “Membership is not restricted to the old or the young.”

“What are the conditions of membership?” Granger asked.

“The bar is high. The man must be of good breeding and character, and must be honorable. He must be personally recommended by another member, and before he is even offered a chance to join that recommendation must be approved by the high council. They usually make inquiries among their members, and anyone who knows the candidate is morally obligated to voice an opinion,” Arthur stated in his most respectful tone. He eyed Granger in an almost condescending fashion. “You would be among those you consider to be your peers.”

Granger thought it did sound an awful lot like the Masons, whether Arthur agreed with him or not. “Is Captain Travers a member?”

“I cannot reveal the name of any member to a non-member, so even if he is, I cannot tell you,” Arthur said firmly. He paused and sighed, clearly frustrated. “I have already told you more than I should have.”

Granger leaned over and kissed him boldly, trying to ease his tension. He felt Arthur first resist, then yield to him. Their mouths joined until Arthur seemed to suddenly remember where he was, and what he was doing, and he broke their kiss off abruptly. “You will be offered the opportunity to earn membership. If you take it, there will be a test and an initiation. If you do not, you will be free to leave unmolested, provided you pledge your honor that you will not even reveal the existence of the group.”

“What is this group called?” Granger asked.

“I cannot answer that now. Those are the terms, take them or leave them,” Arthur said.

“I accept the terms,” Granger said, realizing that there was no reason to argue further. Arthur had closed the carriage blinds so he couldn't see where they were going, so it was quite boring in the carriage. “Perhaps you can keep me occupied?” he said to Arthur.

“What a tempter you are,” Arthur said. “You must be pure.” Granger got frustrated, frustrated with the mystery and frustrated with the rituals. His frustration converted itself into irritation, and that threatened to transform into anger. There was a whole society of sodomites? Did he want to join? Did he want to be associated with them? The thought of being in a group like that, of meeting men like himself that he could bond with at so many different levels, was quite appealing. But what if this group was discovered? Granger thought about that. He'd never heard of such a group, never knew such a group existed. He'd been fucking Arthur for years now, and Arthur hadn't mentioned it before. He and Travers were lovers, yet this secret was one that surpassed even their love. He decided that the society must indeed be powerful, and that its secrets must surely be safe.

It was some time before the carriage came to a halt. Arthur wrapped a blindfold around Granger's head and led him out of the carriage. Granger had known Arthur for years, and he was a dear friend. He knew he could trust him, that he would never hurt him. Still, it was maddening to give up control so completely. He sniffed and smelled the country, the scent of cows and sheep, and of land. Beyond that, he didn't know where they were.

Arthur guided him over the threshold of a door, then down a long flight of stairs. They must be in a cellar or a dungeon, because it got cooler as they descended. They finally stopped their descent and Granger heard a door opening, squealing on its hinges. It sounded like a large door. They passed through another threshold, only now it was quite warm. Granger could hear a fire roaring. A huge oriental gong sounded, and Granger's nose was almost overpowered by the smell of incense.

“Who have you brought before us?” a vaguely familiar voice boomed.

“The Honorable George Granger,” Arthur intoned formally. “Third son of the Right Honorable Earl of Bridgemont, holder of the Spanish order of Charles III, Captain of His Majesty's Ship Belvidera, of 32 guns.”

“George Granger,” the voice said, addressing him. “You have been brought here of your own free will, and you may leave of your own free will. But for the blindfold to be removed, and for you to continue with your journey to be one of us, you must give your solemn oath of secrecy.” Granger listened to him and recited the oath as he dictated. As if by magic, the blindfold vanished.

Granger took in his surroundings. They were clearly in a medieval dungeon, although which one it would be impossible to say. There was a huge fire roaring in an open fireplace that had probably once been the stove. Granger saw the smoke wafting up through a chimney which presumably vented outdoors. In front of him were six people, arrayed in a semi-circle, all wearing robes and hoods so their faces were indistinguishable. Granger looked behind him for Arthur and found that he had vanished. That made him not a little nervous.

“Who are you?” Granger asked.

“You will not ask questions,” the voice said. “In time, all will be revealed.” A gong sounded again and the six people took their seats. Granger just stood there, waiting for whatever came next. That and trying to figure out who was behind that voice. He wracked his memory, trying to place it. The ominous tone the speaker projected did not entirely hide the nasally twang beneath it.

The gong sounded again. “We are the Brotherhood. We are men in high stations who have an appreciation for other men. We have joined together for mutual protection and satisfaction. An attack on one brother is an attack on all brothers. These are the precepts under which we are formed, and the precepts to which you must agree.” Granger found himself wondering if Travers had actually joined this group. He must have.

“I agree,” Granger said.

The gong sounded again, and Granger found that instead of it being mystical, it was starting to get annoying. “We understand you may be one of us, that you may appreciate other men. We offer you the opportunity to join us, but only if you submit to our test, and only if our leaders find you acceptable. You must consent before going forward. You may have a few moments to think about it.” The gong sounded again and it almost made Granger sigh.

He was trying to decide whether or not to go forward. On the one hand, it might be interesting to have a whole group of men as a sexual resource, and it surely wouldn't hurt to have more influence and power backing him up. Yet it was a strange thing, this initiation process. And who were these men? Were they just some merchants in the City who could do him no good, but only bring him down? If that was the case, then Travers wouldn't have felt so protected. And Arthur had told him they were his peers. Arthur wouldn't have lied to him, would he? Still, he was a Granger, a son of the Earl of Bridgemont, a scion of a family with the bluest of blood. Certainly he was above such plebian organizations as this, as this ‘Brotherhood’. Granger was a member of the aristocracy, and he was an officer in the Navy. He didn't need these men. He resolved to turn them down.

The gong again. “It is time to make your decision,” the leader said. “Will you go forward, or will you go home?” Granger was about to decline when he recognized the voice! The voice of the leader, the one he'd heard only so recently. It was the Duke of Clarence! A Royal Prince as part of this group? This must have been why Arthur had panicked when he'd said that only a member of the Royal family would have the power to ostracize him. This was no group of hacks. This was a powerful group indeed. He quickly changed his mind.

“I will go forward, with your permission, sir,” Granger said. His tone had taken on an air of submissiveness now that he realized who he was dealing with. The others seemed to think it was because he was now committed to going forward with the ritual. The gong again, only this time Granger thought it actually sounded pleasant.

“As this is a club who appreciates men, you must prove that you are worthy to be a member. You will be stripped down and inspected closely.” Two of the robed figures stood up and escorted him over in front of the fire where there was a large table. Two manacles hung down, presumably for his arms, and two others were on the end of the table, presumably for his feet. They began to carefully remove Granger's clothing, folding it neatly on a table off to the side. They started with his coat, then his waistcoat and shirt. He felt their hands move across his naked body as the other men watched him, and he found that aroused him. He couldn't decide which excited him more, their hands that lingered on his body as they undressed him, or the eyes of the others who watched as they did. They removed his shoes and breeches, then his stockings, until they'd taken off everything, leaving Granger standing there, stark naked, with his hard dick sticking straight out in front of him.

“He has a nice organ,” one of the men said. He got a dirty glance, as it were, from the leader. The two who undressed him, the acolytes, led him to the table, but strapped him down completely opposite to the way he thought they would. They put his arms in the shackles on the table, and his legs in the manacles. Someone pulled a chain and the manacles rose, as did his legs, exposing his ass to the group. Granger understood now that he was probably going to get fucked. He looked down and noticed that the thought of that hadn't deflated his erection at all.

Now all the men moved forward and began touching him. He felt hands all over his body. One was fondling his cock while another played with his balls. Another stroked his ass, and then gently probed his hole. They felt his chest, his muscles, looking him completely over. He lay back and gave himself over to the feeling. He knew that he was young, and he recognized that he was handsome, so he let these men appreciate and explore his body. His body spasmed and writhed in pleasure as they touched him, worshiped him. He sensed his responses stimulated them even more, as the finger in his ass began to probe with a purpose. He felt his excitement soaring, felt the subsequent orgasm rising, and then he came, thrusting his hips into the air as he did, spewing his load all over his body. Granger lay there, panting, looking up at these men who had brought him off with an expression of thanks and appreciation.

They stood back and looked at him, in apparent contemplation. Granger started to feel uncomfortable, especially when he felt a glob of his cum slide from his chest down his side. One of the acolytes came up and replaced the blindfold. Granger got nervous as he sensed a man approaching. He felt something warm and wet on his body: a mouth. Then there were more, as they gathered around him and licked his cum off his body. He felt someone grab his dick and then a mouth absorbed it while the hand squeezed the last drops of cum out of his tube. Their mouths were everywhere, even where there wasn't cum. He felt a tongue trace his crack, then his hole, rimming him enthusiastically, but a word from the leader stopped that, disappointing Granger.

They removed the blindfold and Granger found himself looking up at the leader. The others were standing behind him in a semi-circle. “You are indeed a handsome man. You have passed the test. You have proven that other men appreciate you. Now you can proceed to the next step, where you must prove that you appreciate other men. Are you willing to go forward?” the leader asked.

“I am,” Granger said. He was no longer afraid, now he was excited. He felt his cock rising again, just as the gong struck, and that almost made him giggle. The leader walked up to him and pulled on his robe. It separated from him at the shoulders, so he was naked except for a mantle around his shoulders and a hood over his head. That confirmed Granger's guess that he was naked underneath his robes. The leader had a nice, fit body, but Granger found himself focusing on his erect cock, about seven inches long and of a normal thickness. Granger smiled, thinking that this wasn't the first Royal cock he'd serviced. The leader tilted Granger's head sideways and pushed his cock in. Granger moaned into it and began sucking it, savoring the taste. He listened to the moans and if he had any doubts before, those doubts were erased: this was definitely the Duke. He pulled out and moved around to Granger's ass.

“No one will enter you against your will. Once a man has entered you, he must reveal his identity to you. May I?” the leader asked. Granger felt him spread something on his hole, something slick, and felt him rub his cock up and down his crack.

Granger could see his eyes through his hood and locked onto them so he would know how much Granger wanted this. “Yes,” he said emphatically. He saw the leader's eyes smile back at him.

He lined his cock up to Granger's hole and pushed in. He didn't loosen Granger up first, but he didn't just ram it in there either. Instead, he forcefully shoved it in. Granger forced himself to relax, and then moved his body slightly to let himself enjoy this big intruder. The leader began to fuck him, while he just enjoyed the ride, enjoyed the feeling of this big dick sliding in and out of his ass.

Another member pulled off his robe, exposing a chubby body, that of a man who knew little physical activity. He had a smallish cock. He walked up to Granger and pushed his dick into Granger's mouth. Granger sucked him readily, focusing on the dick inside him and not on the one in his mouth. Thankfully, the man came quickly, and then stepped away.

The next man removed his robe and stepped up to take the other man's place. He was an older man, with a somewhat flabby body. But he had a nice enough dick. Granger blew him, trying to make him cum as quickly as possible, when he felt the leader's cock expand in his ass as he came, blasting his load inside of Granger. The man Granger was sucking must have really liked that, as he started blowing his wad immediately after the leader started. He felt the leader pull out and he lay there, feeling empty, while the other man emptied himself into Granger's mouth. Once he was done, the leader came up and pulled off his mask, revealing to Granger what he already knew, that he was the Duke of Clarence. He leaned in and kissed Granger. It was nice, really nice. “I would like to meet with you, just the two of us, sometime,” he said in Granger's ear.

Granger moved his head sideways in an affectionate gesture, pressing it against the Duke's so his mouth was next to his ear. “I would love that, sir,” Granger said back.

Then he was gone and another man appeared, lifting up his robe. This man appeared to be quite fit. He had a normal sized cock, which he moved up and slid into Granger's mouth. He began to fuck Granger's mouth, and then stopped, seemingly to think. “May I enter you?” he asked. Granger got it now, got that these men who wanted to fuck him would have to risk revealing themselves to him to do it.

“Yes,” Granger said. The man lined his cock up and pushed in. Granger moaned at the feeling of being filled up again, and let himself enjoy the feeling. Another man came up and Granger sucked his dick, until there were only two men left, the acolytes, in addition to the man still fucking him. He might have come while the man fucked him had he not been distracted by a somewhat heated discussion between one of the acolytes and the Duke. He was able to gather that one of the acolytes was Arthur.

“But I brought him,” he heard Arthur object.

“You will not contravene the rules,” the Duke said, and Arthur quailed at that. Just then the man fucking Granger came. He'd be fun to fuck around with too, Granger thought, as he watched his body spasm in pleasure. The man then pulled off his mask and leaned in to give Granger a kiss. He knew this man. It was the Marquess of Blandford, eldest son of the Duke of Marlborough. He was usually at Carlton House; another Whig.

Arthur came up and took his turn. Even though Arthur had a little dick, Granger enjoyed it most of all because it was Arthur. He really did care about the guy, but found himself wondering what it was that upset him, that would cause him to argue with the Duke?

There was one man left, still fully robed. Surprisingly, they undid the manacles, and Granger instinctively sat up. He felt the cum almost pouring out of his ass and tried not to laugh. “You have shown that other men appreciate you, and you have shown that you appreciate other men. There are two more phases you must go through. The next is a solemn oath, sealed with a brand. Will you continue?”

“Yes,” Granger said, and the gong sounded again.

The Duke made him recite an oath proclaiming his loyalty to the brotherhood above all else but his sovereign and his family. They made him pledge his secrecy yet again. When he was finished, the gong sounded once more.

“To mark you as a member, a simple circle will be branded onto your left wrist,” the Duke said. “It will be painful. You may choose not to continue the initiation if you wish.”

Granger thought about that, but only for a second. He'd experienced pain before, he'd survive it. And even if he hadn't, there was no way he'd back down in the face of it. To do so would be cowardly, just like Wilcox, he thought with a wry smile. “I will proceed.”

One of the acolytes grabbed his hand and held it, and Granger recognized him to be Arthur. Another, the one who hadn't taken off his robe yet, pulled a red-hot branding iron out of the fire. Granger braced himself, willing himself to be calm and not move at all as the iron got closer and closer to his wrist. Then it made contact with his skin, the pain searing up his arm and through his whole body. Granger willed his mind to ignore it, to disregard the monumental pain and the scent of his own burning skin. It seemed to last forever, when it had only lasted for a few seconds. When it was done, he looked down and saw the red, burned circle on his wrist. Arthur put some salve on it, and they bandaged his wrist, but it was still agonizingly painful. The gong sounded yet again.

“And now, your final step is here. To learn the ways of the Brotherhood, you need guidance, a brother to show you the ways of our group. When you are in England, he will be there to help you, guide you, and comfort you. He will be there as you ultimately master our customs, and as you take the big step of bringing in a new member.” The gong sounded again. “He will be your mentor. He will be your friend.” The acolyte that burned him stepped forward so he was right in front of him. “And now, to ease the pain, your mentor will now provide you with the pleasure of sealing your mutual bond.”

Granger stared, wide-eyed, as the man in front of him removed the lower part of his robe. As it dropped slowly, Granger first saw his muscular chest. It was sparsely covered with auburn-colored hair, hair that seemed to beautifully frame his dark red nipples. The robe dropped lower still, maddeningly slowly, to reveal a firm abdomen with more of that beautiful sparse auburn hair. Then lower, to reveal his bush, with the same color hair, only darker. Granger licked his lips in anticipation, as the robe dropped away, revealing his throbbing erection. It was about the same length as his, probably six and a half inches long, but it was thick, really thick. Thicker than Travers, thicker than Cavendish, maybe as thick as Jardines or Holmquist. Granger reached down and gently touched it, feeling it throb in response.

He looked up as the man pulled off the mantle, revealing strong, broad shoulders, and then he pulled off his hood. Granger sat there, completely stunned, and not a little uncomfortable. Then those feelings faded, replaced by rage as he fully recognized this man: Sir Phillip Kerry, amazingly handsome, a friend of his brother's, and a complete asshole. He leaned in and kissed Granger, who didn't respond at all. Then he moved his mouth to his ear.

“You remember me. Look, we're brothers now, this has to look good. Work with me,” he said to Granger. Granger was of a mind to tell him to fuck off, but he knew Phillip was right. This was a forum, a public spectacle. Phillip's lips met his and he responded, yielding to his advances, to his aggressive tongue. He pushed Granger back on the table and collapsed on top of him, grinding his hips to push his big dick against Granger's. Granger wrapped his arms and legs around him, pulling him in, and hoping this whole thing would end soon enough.

He felt Phillip's mouth on his ear. “I'm sorry George. I really am. You forgave Iggy, can't you forgive me?”

“You knew he was going to rape me and you led me out there,” Granger growled into his ear. “You let him. You could have stopped him, but you let him. Why?”

“George, you are wondrous, even as a boy you were. I was hoping you'd like it, and that you'd want to give it a try with me. I didn't know Iggy was a complete idiot, that he was a Neanderthal lover. If I'd have gone first, you'd have liked it. Let me show you,” he cooed.

“Do I have any choice?” Granger asked.

“No, you don't,” Phillip said. He moved off and spun Granger over onto his side and moved up behind him. Granger felt his huge cock move up to his ass and push against it. “I'm thick. Not many men can take me. Would you rather do me?”

That was as good as a challenge. Granger pushed his hips back into Phillip, feeling his huge cock stretch him open. He forced himself to breathe, to relax, and that eased the pain. No sooner had he done that then Phillip started moving in and out of him, moving in smooth, deliberate strokes. It was heavenly, heavenly. Every thrust seemed designed to stimulate him, and even the stretching that his tight hole had to do was so exciting, so erotic. Granger moved with him, conforming to his movements, and felt Phillip's hands on his body. The hands were soft and gentle to contrast with the massive intruder in his ass. Granger pulled his mind out of his fuck-induced fog to look around and notice that the other men were standing around, watching them, some masturbating as they did.

The feel of Phillip's dick in his ass, the soft touch of his hands, and the eyes of the other men conspired to pique Granger's excitement. He'd already been fucked to within an inch of ejaculating before, and he was so horny, so fired up now he could wait no longer. He let out a roar, a loud roar, which seemed to startle then excite the watching men, then blasted his load. The first shot flew off the table and actually hit the Duke, so forceful was it. Granger looked up, mid orgasm, to see the Duke smiling at him. Blast after blast shot out of his dick, but Phillip wasn't done yet. Now that he'd blown, Granger found his huge size to be at first uncomfortable, and then painful.

Phillip had always been a self-centered asshole, just like Granger's brother, just like Iggy. Only he must have changed at least a little bit, because he seemed to recognize Granger's discomfort. He pulled out of him and squatted over him, masturbating himself until he blew his load all over Granger's chest. Granger looked up at him and saw Phillip smiling down at him, and cursed his weakness for men with big dicks as he smiled back.

After that, it was almost a disappointing denouement. They all just meandered off to their corners and put on their clothes. Arthur came up to him, looking sad. “I hope you are alright with this.”

“I think it will be interesting,” Granger said with a smile. “If it weren't for the burn on my wrist, I think I should have really enjoyed it.”

“I wanted to be your mentor, to be your guide,” he said, disappointed.

“I would have liked that,” Granger said honestly. “But you and I are the best of friends Arthur. Our bond is already tight.”

Arthur smiled at him. “I guess you're right. I have to go. I will see you later, hopefully.”

“How am I to get home?” Granger asked.

“You must ride with Sir Phillip,” Arthur said, trying to hide how irritated that made him.

“Do I get to choose?” Granger asked.

“No,” Arthur said. Then he left. Phillip seemed to miraculously take his place.

“I've sent a message to your wife alerting her that you won't be home until tomorrow,” Phillip said. Granger was about to protest, but gave in to the inevitable.

“I am ordered to be at the Admiralty at 9 o'clock on the day after tomorrow, so that is acceptable,” Granger said factually. Phillip nodded and led Granger back up the stairs and outside, into the brisk air of fall. “Where are you taking me?”

“Somewhere where we can be together and talk,” Phillip said. “We are actually near Brentwood.”

“Then let's be off,” Granger said, climbing into the carriage. Phillip gave instructions to the driver, and then hopped in behind him. “They could have picked a better mentor for me. I don't even like you.”

“I really am sorry George,” he said. Granger looked into his eyes, beautiful green eyes, and felt the sincerity. “I was so young and so stupid.”

“Yes you were,” Granger said, unrelenting. He still remembered that day that Iggy had raped him in the stables. Phillip had stood off to the side watching, watching the torture, nursing his own cock.

“I was going to go next and I didn't. Doesn't that count for something? Doesn't it mean anything that when I saw how horribly hurt you were, I helped you up and led you back into the house without even trying to fuck you?” Phillip asked. Granger searched his mind, searched through the pain and suffering, through the tears. He remembered being raped, and he remembered ending up in his room. What was in between was a blur.

“You did?” Granger asked. Phillip nodded. Granger really dug back, reliving the whole scene, the scene where they'd led him to the stables and Iggy had bent him over and raped him, using no lubricant and no foreplay to ease the experience. He remembered Phillip there, stroking his hard cock. His mind began to unlock the memory, as if it were there all the time but had remained hidden. He remembered lying there afterward and then he remembered someone yelling, yelling at Iggy. Then that person had found a rag to put over his bleeding ass and had helped him up. He remembered that man carrying him as far as he could until they reached the point that someone might notice, then gently setting him down and helping him as he wound his way through Bridgemont House. Then he'd picked Granger up again and carried him upstairs and put him to bed. Granger remembered the gentle kiss, and he remembered the sad eyes, the same green eyes that were looking at him now.

“I didn't remember that until now. You were the one who took care of me.” Phillip nodded. Granger wanted to throw out a nasty remark about how he just wanted to protect himself and Iggy, but he remembered now, and he remembered how Phillip had tears in his eyes when he'd put Granger into bed. Granger sat in the carriage, watching the countryside pass by. He felt a hand grip his and turned to see a worried Phillip.

“This has tormented me for years, George. It has ripped me up. I've been too big of a coward to seek your forgiveness. Only now, when I have to, can I stand to look you in the eye,” he said. “I would have let Arthur have you, let him be your mentor, but I need you to forgive me. I need you to understand.”

Granger smiled and put his hand on Phillip's handsome cheek. “I am wondering, if you are my guide, what kinds of things you're planning to show me.” Phillip smiled and leaned in to kiss him. He broke off the kiss long enough for Granger to see the joy on his face, and then kissed him again. They kissed each other, holding on tightly, bonding with their mouths and nothing more, until they reached Brentwood.

“Good afternoon, sir,” a surprised Hudson said, greeting them in the entry hall. It was nice to see that Hudson seemed glad that he was there.

“Good afternoon, Hudson,” Granger said affably. “This is Sir Phillip Kerry. We were out hunting and decided to stay the night here. I wanted to show Sir Phillip the new baths.”

“Certainly sir. Let me help you up to your rooms while we prepare them,” he said. A subtle nod to a footman set that into motion. Hudson ushered them up the stairs and guided them to Granger's bedroom. There was another bedroom through an adjoining door, one that he or Caroline could use if they wanted privacy, or to sleep alone. Hudson led Phillip into that room, and then returned and helped Granger out of his uniform and into a bathrobe.

“You could have assigned a footman as a temporary valet, Hudson,” Granger said thoughtfully. As a butler, being a manservant wasn't part of his duties.

“Thank you, sir, but it was no problem.” Granger noticed that Hudson's pants were tenting slightly and tried not to grin. He and Phillip walked down to the basement, a place normally reserved for the staff, where a beautiful room had been created. It was similar to the baths they'd created in London, only this one had a distinctly Middle Eastern flavor, probably Moroccan.

“This is stupendous!” Phillip exclaimed. He shucked off his robe along with Granger and they stepped into the very warm water. “I've never seen anything like this, except perhaps in Bath.” Granger moved up to Phillip and wrapped his arms, then his legs around him.

“I was thinking that I could show you that I forgive you,” Granger said, as he guided Phillip's big dick toward his hole. He took him in carefully, and they fucked, slowly and gently, while Phillip moved them around the pool. Finally, when he could stand no more, Phillip pressed Granger's back up against the side of the pool and really fucked him, bringing them both off in one spectacular orgasm. They floated around after that, just relaxing and enjoying the aftermath.

“So I suppose the first thing you'll want to hear about is what happened to Captain Travers and Major Jardines?” Phillip asked, shattering the pleasant and tranquil mood.

Copyright © 2011 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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