Curse Of The Laughing Fools Statue

Author's Note: This story has been posted to Literotica.Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself, utilizing Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

Also, if male bisexuality offends you, kindly hit your 'backspace' key now.

**..**

The fool woke as the gray dawn filtered through the east window. Rousing himself from his sleeping pallet, he found the chamber pot and relieved his bladder. He found his purple tights and pulled them up his spindly legs. His orange tunic was pulled on over his head, then he located his green slippers. Then he found his crown of orange, purple and green and slipped it onto his head.

Cursing the Norse god that decreed that he be no taller than a hunting mastiff, the fool left his small room. He pasted the false smile of an imbecile on his sharp face and scampered down the stone corridor of King Gregor's castle.

"In a hurry for your porridge, are we, dear fool?" the rotund cook inquired, slapping a large spoonful of the bland and mealy porridge onto a platter for him.

He ate with his hands; he was not entrusted with knives or spoons. He was wont to steal shiny things, much as a magpie might.

When his meal was consumed, the fool gave the cook's ample haunches a ferocious swat. With a squeal and a laugh, she chased him from her domain. At the door of the kitchen, the fool declared his undying love for her. His declarations were waved off with a laugh.

King Gregor smiled as the fool entered his great hall, already juggling three balls made from the hides of animals. Queen Isla gave a disdainful sniff, unamused by the fool's juggling abilities.

"Sing for us, fool," Queen Isla ordered.

The fool did possess a thin, reedy voice and did badly sing the song of the Tutite people. The song mentioned the many brave battles and the courageous warriors of the Tutite kingdom. Soon, the queen tired of the fool's braying and squeaking.

"Perhaps a joke, M'lord?" the fool did ask.

"Ah, yes, yes, a joke," King Gregor agreed, smiling benignly.

"As I did happen into my queen's bedchamber, I did note the queen's chambermaid using the bellows of the fireplace to blow the cobwebs and dust from M'lady's most private cleft," the fool stated.

"Oh ho! Because it has not been used in these many months!" King Gregor guffawed. "Well told, dear fool, well told indeed."

"Perhaps it would be used were you not so enamored with the young Squire Rolf?" Queen Isla wished to call out, incensed at the fool's joke and her husband's reaction.

Of course, she did not give voice to this thought; some things were not to be spoken of. Even if it hardly be a secret, even as many of the castles servants snickered behind the backs of the king and queen of their small nation.

"And I did say, 'my! What a cavern you do possess, M'lady.' My! What a cavern you do possess, M'lady. My! What a cavern you do possess, M'lady. And my queen did say unto me, 'there simply is no reason to repeat yourself,'" the fool said, grinning oafishly at the queen's reddening face.

"And?" King Gregor inquired, ignoring his wife's outrage.

"To which, I did say unto my queen, 'M'lady! I did not repeat myself; perhaps there might be an echo,'" the fool said and King Gregor guffawed mightily, slapping his leg.

"I shall be tending to my flowers," the queen stated, rising with a most hateful glare at the fool.

Just as the queen departed, the young Squire Rolf entered and did beg a moment of the King's time. King Gregor dismissed the fool, already untying his belt. The fool did not tarry; none were to interrupt the King's attentions to the young, handsome squire.

"So, my cleft is filled with dust and cobwebs?" Queen Isla asked the four walls of her garden.

The stone walls did protect the garden from the brutal winds of North Sea. Open to the air above, the gardens did receive rainfall, and several hours of sunlight. The rocky soil allowed Queen Isla to cultivate herbs but not many flowers bloomed within her garden. There were no vegetables for the cook to harvest for their meals.

Now, plucking some herbs, Queen Isla wrapped these leaves and seeds and petals into a cloth. Pulling her furs about herself, the queen marched to her chambers, calling out for the cook to bring her a mug of boiling water forthwith.

Queen Isla already had the tome of the ancient Nordic spells and incantations open when the cook entered the queen's chambers.

Muttering the ancient language, Queen Isla dropped a seed of this plant, a petal of that plant, two seeds from another plant into the mug of water. Soon, the room filled with a bitter aroma.

"Your sharp tongue shall be stilled, my hateful little fool," the queen snarled, dropping the last leaf into the cup.

After the smoke cleared, the queen poured the powder from the mug into the palm of her hand. Then marching from her chambers, she searched the castle's corridors for the fool.

She found him in a small alcove, practicing an amusing little dance as he sang a most ridiculous song about marrying a very lovely pig. The fool gave the queen his most charming smile as she approached him.

"Laugh, my little fool, laugh for me," the queen ordered, hurling the powder into his face.

The fool screamed, then suddenly felt his limbs become stiff. His smile faltered on his face as his large eyes looked at the queen's bitter face.

"That is right, fool," the queen said, voice filled with contempt. "You are nothing more than a figurine. A small, insignificant figurine. And, just as the gods did form you from the clay of Tutite's soil, you shall return to that clay."

The fool tried to scream, tried to scamper away. He could not move, could not speak. And as he watched, the queen became larger and larger.

No, the truth was, he became smaller and smaller. Soon, he was as small as the queen's hand.

"Goodbye my little fool," the queen hissed, tossing the fool from the window to the churning waters of the North Sea below.

"Today, the first day of the month of April shall be known as the Fool's day," the queen laughed a bitter laugh. "Now, to tend to one young Rolf, mi'lord."

.***.

Looking around the cluttered shelves of the small shop, Charlie smiled. There was a small clay figurine of a court jester. The three pronged hat was orange and purple and green. The jester's tunic was orange, his tights were purple, and his pointed shoes were green. The figurine's mouth was open in a silent laugh, making Charlie smile once more.

"Come on, little guy; let's see how much you cost," Charlie said, picking the clay statuette up.

"Two bucks," the proprietor shrugged.

In truth, the man was mystified; he'd not seen the little statue before. He was fairly certain he knew each and every item in this store, but that little figure had not been there this morning when he'd dusted the shelves. It had not been there last night when he gave his store a naked eye appraisal before locking up for the day. And, surely, as brightly colored as the figurine was, he would have noticed it.

"Sure, sure; what about this book? Kind of looks like runes?" Charlie asked.

"Now, that? That's handwritten notes; that's the real deal," the man claimed.

Charlie sneezed; the book was covered in dust. The proprietor made some more noise about authenticity before finally naming a price.

Charlie took his latest find home. His mother and father barely looked up from the television when their son came into the living room. Neither parent were very impressed with his latest pile of junk; his mother just reminded him that dinner would be ready in ten minutes.

In his room, Charlie put the statue onto his desk. The book went on the nightstand; it would make some interesting reading; Charlie was learning to decipher runes.

'Make a wish'

"What?" Charlie asked out loud.

There was no response. Charlie looked around but there was no sound. He looked at the figurine of the laughing fool and smiled again.

'Make a wish'

Charlie made sure his door was shut. Knowing his mother would be calling out that dinner was ready at any moment, Charlie focused his attention on the small clay figurine.

"I wish, I wish Bobby would fuck me. I wish we'd become lovers and..." Charlie admitted to the statue.

"Charlie! Dinner's ready; wash your hands," his mother called.

Thinking of the handsome eighteen year old athlete that lived two streets to the north of their home, Charlie could feel his cock beginning to swell. He hurried from his room to comply with his mother's orders.

After the evening meal, his parents returned their attention to the television and Charlie returned to his room.

Last year's High School Yearbook was on his desk. Charlie opened the book and went to the page he'd gone to several times in the past.

There, taking up half the page was a photograph of himself and Bobby. As Charlie had been the team manager, a glorified water boy, the handsome athlete knew Charlie. Also, growing up in the same neighborhood, Bobby knew Charlie. In the photograph, a sweaty, shirtless Bobby had his arm casually draped over Charlie's shoulder.

"Oh God yes," Charlie muttered, rubbing his swollen cock through jeans and briefs as his hungry eyes drank in the sight of Bobby's beautiful body.

His cell phone chimed and Charlie stared, incredulously as a text message from Bobby invited him over. Charlie quickly agreed and took some effort into dressing nicely.

It's not a date," Charlie finally reminded himself as he shined his leather loafers.

"Hey man!" Bobby smiled uncertainly as Charlie sauntered up his driveway.

"So, what you want to do?" Charlie asked, absently picking up Bobby's basketball.

"Shit, I, uh, I don't know," Bobby admitted. "You?"

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Charlie muttered to himself as he did a poor job of dribbling the underinflated basketball.

"Yeah, needs air," Bobby agreed, easily snagging the ball from Charlie's clumsy hands.

"So, uh, your mom home?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah," Bobby agreed, also trying to dribble the basketball. "Asshole step-father's here too. Why?"

"Oh, I uh, I, I was kind of hoping we uh, you know, could, you know," Charlie said.

"Yeah?" Bobby asked, visibly adjusting his swelling cock in his shorts.

"I uh," Charlie said, adjusting his own swelling member in his dress slacks.

"Car's still all fucked up; last God damned time I ever let Tommy drive, I swear to God," Bobby said, again adjusting his cock in his loose shorts. "Dick said he could drive a stick, but..."

"Yeah, I, just about got enough saved up to buy Kirsten's car; said it just needs new belts," Charlie said, unable to look away from Bobby's slightly distended shorts.

"So, uh, what, what you want to do?" Bobby asked.

You made a wish," Charlie reminded himself.

"I mean, you know, just you know, maybe um, let me blow you?" Charlie braved asking, stepping out of easy reach of Bobby's fists.

"I uh, Dude!" Bobby said, looking shocked.

"I mean, hey, no big deal, just you know," Charlie mumbled.

"Uh. Where?" Bobby whispered after looking around to verify that they were still alone, unobserved.

"There, uh, there's that Budget Motel; right up there on Memorial," Charlie blurted out.

"I got twenty," Bobby swallowed, mouth dry.

"No, no, I got this," Charlie agreed.

Charlie waved away Bobby's money and the two eighteen year old boys silently walked toward the Budget Stay motel. Arriving at the small, slightly dilapidated building, Bobby stayed out of sight and Charlie went in to rent a room for a few hours. Bobby swallowed; his mouth seemed so dry.

Bobby had no idea what had possessed him to suddenly text Charlie. In fact, Charlie made Bobby feel somewhat ill at ease, disgusted. He was pretty sure the handsome blond boy was a faggot and Bobby hated fucking faggots with all his heart.

"Room one twenty," Charlie whispered, joining Bobby again.

Silently, the two boys walked to Room 120. While Bobby looked around, fearful that someone might see them, see him going into a motel room with another boy, Charlie fumbled with the electronic room key. Opening the door, Charlie let Bobby enter first.

Bobby jumped slightly when the door clicked shut. The room was a small, comfortable room. The double sized bed had a fresh comforter on it and the room smelled of the floral scented carpet powder the maid used. On the low dresser was a bulky tube style television.

"Guy said there's movies," Charlie said, clicking on the bedside lamp.

"Oh yeah?" Bobby asked, sitting stiffly on the foot of the bed.

"Yeah, let's see," Charlie said, picking up the remote and turning the television on.

The local news began to broadcast while Charlie familiarized himself with the remote control. Hitting '2' on the keypad, the movie menu popped up. Sitting next to Bobby, thighs touching, Charlie selected 'Gay Male' and hit 'Enter.'

"Huh!" Bobby said as the scene pixelated then cleared to show a young man moaning and grunting as a very large cock thrust in and out of his stretched mouth.

Bobby wanted to protest. Bobby wanted Charlie to quit touching him; he could feel Charlie's leg touching his. He damned sure didn't feel like watching some faggot sucking cock. Bobby's own cock was so hard it ached as he watched, unable to tear his eyes away from the pornographic images on the television.

"I'm, aw yeah, I'm going cum," a deep voice intoned.

"Mm hmm," the cock sucker enthused, letting a very long, thick cock slip from his mouth.

Charlie and Bobby watched as the long, thick cock erupted, coating the cock sucker's face and outstretched tongue with an impossibly large amount of semen.

The scene changed and showed two men in a side by side sixty nine. The two handsome, well-built men alternated between loudly slurping on the thick cocks in their mouths and pulling the cocks out of their mouths and forcefully stroking the cocks.

Bobby seemed to be engrossed in the scene on the television. Charlie took that moment to undress.

While not quite as muscular as Bobby, or Tommy, or many of the young athletes in their school, Charlie was not embarrassed of his body. He certainly was not embarrassed about his six and a half inches of thick meat.

The vignette on the television ended with both young men coating the faces of the other young man with ropes of sticky semen. Sitting up, the two young men then kissed very passionately, faces still coated with semen.

"I would definitely swallow," Charlie insisted.

"Yeah, me too," Bobby admitted as they watched two handsome, well-built men undressing each other.

"What? What the actual fuck? Like fuck I'd ever even suck another guy's whang," Bobby wanted to scream as he absently stroked his throbbing cock through shorts and briefs.

"Oh! Oh damn!" Charlie said as the blond man began to sodomize his brunette companion.

"That, that's got to hurt, huh?" Bobby asked.

"Yeah, probably," Charlie said, bravely putting his hand on Bobby's thigh, just underneath the leg opening of Bobby's shorts.

"I uh, yeah, yeah, let me," Bobby said, tugging his tee shirt up and off.

He then kicked his tennis shoes off, not bothering to untie them. Shorts and snug briefs joined the tee shirt on the floor.

"Oh! Oh damn!" Bobby smirked as Charlie gasped at the sight of his seven inches of very thick uncircumcised cock and heavy balls.

While the very vigorous sodomy on the television had Bobby's attention, Charlie wrapped his right hand around Bobby's fat meat. His other hand cupped Bobby's smoothly shaved balls, testing their weight in his hand.

"He gently skinned the thick foreskin back, exposing Bobby's angry looking plum shaped head. Bobby ground his teeth; he was too close to ejaculation and he wanted to enjoy the feelings for at least a few moments more.

"Oh man!" Bobby hissed out as Charlie's hot wet mouth encircled the sensitive head of his cock.

The feeling was excruciatingly blissful. Another man's wet mouth on his cock, another man's hand gently massaging his heavy balls. On the television, one man fucked another man with hard thrusts. Bobby could smell his own sweat and Charlie's sweat.

"Dude, I, aw damn, aw shit," Bobby grunted then began pumping a hot load into Charlie's eager mouth.

"Mm hmm, mm hmm," Charlie enthused, pumping Bobby's cock to coax more delicious semen from Bobby's heavy balls.

"Man," Bobby gently protested, pushing Charlie's mouth from his cock.

On the screen, one young man was sucking one cock while stroking a second cock. Then he switched to sucking the second cock while stroking the first cock. Bobby's cock had never fully deflated; it was very quick to rise again as he watched both cocks erupt in geysers of semen onto the cocksucker's face.

Wordlessly, Bobby lay down on the bed. He motioned Charlie to join him. Laying side by side, Bobby gave Charlie a soft kiss while his hand rubbed up and down Charlie's muscled torso and arm. Then he boldly reached down and gripped Charlie's turgid cock in his hand.

"Sixty nine," Bobby ordered and Charlie eagerly twisted around.

Bobby could not understand what was happening to him. He was not gay; hated gays. He had never ever had any desire to suck another man's cock and would have gladly killed anyone that would have even suggested such a thing to him.

"Mm," he moaned as he took the head of Charlie's cock into his mouth.

He could taste Charlie's soap, a little of Charlie's bitter excitement. Bobby could feel the texture of the velvety soft skin that covered the iron bar as Charlie's cock slid into his hungry mouth.

"Mm," he moaned as he once more felt Charlie's mouth pleasuring his cock.

He swallowed more and more of Charlie's sweet meat, bobbing his head, increasing the suction. He reached his left hand up and gently rubbed Charlie's smooth balls; apparently Charlie shaved his balls.

"Oh God damn yes!" Bobby gurgled as Charlie thrust a finger into his unsuspecting rectum.

Of course, his yelp of pleasure was muffled by the cock in his mouth. He took Charlie's hint and thrust a finger into Charlie's tight little fuck hole.

A moment later, Bobby began to pump another needy load into Charlie's mouth. He added a second finger inside of Charlie's rectum, massaging Charlie's prostate gland. His reward was a mouthful of Charlie's sweet cream.

Laying back against the cheap foam rubber pillows, Bobby felt disgusted with himself. He felt disgusted with Charlie. He felt disgusted as he watched one young man being spit-roasted by two young men on the television. He could feel his cock beginning to swell as the camera focused on the fat cock spearing the young man's greasy anus.

"Need to fuck you, Dude," Bobby begged, gripping his fat cock.

Charlie produced a tube of lubricant from his pocket. He and Bobby kissed, using tongue as Charlie coated Bobby's cock with lube. Then flopped onto his back, head at the foot of the bed. Kneeling between Charlie's legs, Bobby notched the head of his cock against Charlie's resisting anus.

"Augh!" both young men cried out loud as Bobby's cock made entrance.

Not knowing any better, Bobby fucked Charlie just as he had fucked dozens of young women. They flopped onto their backs, spread their legs and he shoved himself into their swampy holes.

Unlike his numerous female partners, though, Bobby felt a real connection with his gay lover. Unlike with his female partners, Bobby wondered how he could pleasure his male partner. He moaned; he could feel Charlie's rectal walls pulsing, squeezing around his fat meat as he pushed himself into Charlie's tight hole.