Prince Gyllen Ch 08

Let us turn back time a little, back a couple days prior to the ending of our last tale, to the night of Princess Jern's return to Snjórland. Queen Helio had uncharacteristically fled from the dinner table without so much as a reason other than a need to -- in her words - "lie down". The guests were baffled to say the least and Gyllen had even sent Robert to go and see what ailed Her Majesty as he tried his best to resume his meal as calmly as he could. At some point, he finished the last drop of his wine from his chalice, only to have it promptly refilled by the attentive, neighbouring minotaur to his right.

"Ah! Please, Ms. Pasiphaë!" The prince protested. "One serving is more than enough to satisfy me. I am a tad of a...oh, what's that word Jern used...'light weight'."

"Ah, a couple more won't kill you!" The minotaur insisted with a smile before refreshing her own goblet.

"Well...perhaps just

one

more couldn't hurt..." The blonde mumbled before he brought it up to his face, interrupted on the way by Pasi clinking her own container against his with a "cheers" before sipping the contents.

A couple hours more passed. In that time, Robert had come back to update the prince on the status of his mother, though the blond could scarcely recall the report by the following morning, seeing how he had mainly occupied himself by quaffing cup after cup of fermented grape juice, slumping in his seat and slightly buzzed whilst eavesdropping on Jern relaying her stories of valour to Eir. They seemed to be fairly unbelievable and exaggerated tales of heroic deeds and high adventures. The number of handsome damoiseaux-in-distress she claimed to have rescued from dragons or evil wizards or whatnot within the short timespan of a single year seemed grossly doubtful. Still, the many fantastical sights and landscapes she vividly described to their mutual sister began enchanting Gyllen too...

Maybe it was mainly due to the current effects of the alcohol, but the prince quickly began yearning to escape from this tiny, lonely island he inhabited and see the rest of the world while he still had his youth, rather than spending his newfound adulthood within the the confines of the capital, anticipating the day he would be wed to a princess he never met from a kingdom he had never visited and shipped away faster than you could say: "Don't I get a vote in this?", and

that

was if he was lucky. The realisation depressed the prince. Sighing, he put an elbow on the table with his head in one hand, idly rolling the base of his chalice in circles around the table with the other as his blue eyes watered up. However, not a single tear had a chance to fall. He sniffed and wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his robe, his despair swiftly turning into determination. Clenching at the stem of his cup with a sudden look of conviction appearing on his pretty face, Gyllen made a mental vow then and there for his own sake: "I will go on an adventure which shall satisfy me for a lifetime!"

With conviction set in his heart, Gyllen experienced minor appeasement for a time while he pictured vistas of unspoilt green meadows, shimmering desert, an endless blue ocean reflecting the sun in the cloudless sky, etcetera, etcetera, in spite of the young, optimistic fool not even knowing the first thing about international travel! Still, the dream was satisfactory enough for him in the moment, evident by his wide grin underneath his hazy, tipsy eyes. By the time he returned to the concrete world after running lengthy simulations of these imaginary journeys in his mind, he saw that nearly all of the guests, including his three sister and and the female minotaur, had left him.

"Gods, how long was I daydreaming...?" He thought to himself. Many remaining warriors laid face down on the tables, snoring loudly after having one too many pints to drink while the few still half-awake sipped away at the last few drops of ale remaining in their mugs. The band continued performing, although their tunes had become slower and more subdued to compliment the dwindling celebratory atmosphere.

"Oh! I love this song!" The blond announced aloud, listening in and recognising the composition that was currently being played after a few notes. He looked behind himself to see the ever loyal Robert standing guard over him, leaning on his pike, bored and tired from his uneventful duty. Uneventful, that was, until the prince broke the monotony and spoke directly to him. "Oh, Robert, darling~!" Gyllen beckoned him over. The guard quickly stood to attention - pretending he had been doing so the entire evening - as the prince addressed him.

"What is it, your grace?" The handsome soldier inquired.

"May I have this dance?" Gyllen requested in his groggy state. Robert blinked in bewilderment.

"B-beg pardon, sir?" The bodyguard asked, unsure if he had heard the prince correctly. The boy did not answer verbally but stood away from his seat and held onto Rob's wrist, dragging him to the centre of the hall along with himself, causing the soldier to drop his spear onto the stone floor with a loud clatter in the process. Gyllen undid the straps of the taller male's helmet in a rapid and precise manner (an ability he had acquired during his time with Min). He placed the headgear on a nearby table before leaning his face inwards to peck Robert on the lips, undaunted by their circumstance of being in a public area containing several people to behold his display of affection.

As a reminder for the reader, same-sex relations were not strictly outlawed within Snjórland's borders, but it was still not a subject many were comfortable acknowledging outside of the seedier nooks and crannies of the country such as the Monster District, where such things are slightly less taboo partly in thanks to the mixing pot of varying cultures and beliefs from all over the world leading to a greater tolerance for the dissimilar.

A non-heterosexual royal, on the other hand, was entirely unprecedented! And to top it all off, a lover of common blood was something seldom ever accepted. Do not let those fairy tales where the pauper marries the princess or - in this case - prince fool you, such stories rarely ever came true. The semi-romantic relationship which had blossomed between Gyllen and Robert since their shared bath-time had been kept with the utmost confidentiality, having seen each other in secret a few times since that night, usually when Gyllen was unable to make it to the Monster District for whatever reason to satisfy his cravings. Robert even had his share of turns topping! The more masculine male was quite the natural at doing so too, able to hit all of Gyllen's sweet spots without much guidance. Definitely somebody for the blond to keep close~

Yet their shagging felt a little different compared to when Gyllen did it with orcs and bultungins. While not technically 'better', the prince felt immensely more joyous whenever he did the dirty deed with Robert. Though Gyllen had never had a proper suitor prior (thinking back on it, Min was probably the closest thing), he was certain the feelings he had towards Robert were as close to genuine love as he had ever known. Even without the sex, he looked forward to just the older boy's company and listening to uncomplicated subjects as ordinary as how his day was. Mundane events to most, but for Gyllen, these were insights into a more humble life which he desired. Who knows? Perhaps one day he would elope with Robert to somewhere far, far away and live the rest of their lives out as simple farmers in some rural land.

Robert, however, had no idea of 'Goldie' and his adventures amongst the non-humans. Rob was a sweet enough lad and all that, but the prince desired something a little more hardcore a vast majority of the time that poor, kind Robert just could not provide. Was it really cheating if they were not officially dating though? Gods know. What Gyllen

did

know was that Rob may not be so keen to find out the source of his affection was taking centaur cocks behind his broad back, so the prince conveniently omitted any mention of the sort from their polite conversations...

For the moment however, Gyllen

did

wish to be together with Robert. The physical contact was comforting, and that was not just the alcohol talking, although it is what had given him the sudden burst of confidence to display his soft spot for the soldier so openly. Gyllen guided Robert's right hand and placed it upon his waist - a tad closer to his behind than was considered proper for a formal cavort - which the soldier kept a firm hold on before the prince placed his own left mitt on Rob's shoulder.

"Gyllen...I don't even know how to dance...!" The guard whispered to the blonde while the the two were already interlocking fingers into their hands and the prince was tugging him along the floor in time to the tune.

"Just follow my lead. It's not too difficult." Gyllen replied. "One, two, step! One, two, step!" The prince dictated the timing, trying not to trip over his toes in his drunken state.

"Oi! Ain't that Jern's li'l bruvver?" One of the shit-faced orc asked, slapping his friend awake for some confirmation on the couple before them.

"Naaah, ya idiot! That's like, erm, Eir or somethin', innit? I mean she's dancin' wiv a bloke an' all." The even hazier one slurred out.

"I 'spose...but I could swear Eir wasn' blonde.."

They continued like this for several more songs. Robert was even starting to memorise a few routines towards the end, but his endurance into the wee hours of the morning could only last him so long. Robert had to do quite a bit of convincing to the intoxicated prince to finally be let go as so he could rest for his shift at dawn, having to practically yank his hand from Gyllen's soft grip. The blond was less than happy that his undisclosed boyfriend would up and ditch him while he still had a couple more waltzes left within him, but dismissed the guard with a wave of the hand, though not before leaning in to give him another quick kiss on his unshaven cheek to the witness of a few passed out soldiers and a band running on fumes, resulting in a sly smile on the prince's part and a blush face from Robert's. Excusing himself, the masculine guard left through the main corridor. The teen prince stumbled forward back to his table to finish his last droplet of his wine before deciding to finally turn himself in for the night, swaying from side to side as he fumbled his way to the exit, opening up the large wooden doors leading to the courtyard, though neglecting to close them behind him again once he was outside.

Gyllen faltered north-east towards the spire which housed his bedroom to rest his weary head in preparation for tomorrow, humming an off-key tune to himself which he had pirouetted to earlier that evening. Upon reaching the tower but before opening its entrance, the blond could hear a faint noise coming from around its curved walls which sounded somewhat like water slowly trickling forth from a bucket or some other container onto the stone floor below. Naïvely, the boy peeked behind the obstruction, squinting to see what the source of the noise was within the limited light of a nearby, wall-mounted torch. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could make out a large, vaguely humanoid lump low to the floor and hunched over, facing away from him. It appeared to have been a female with skin slightly darker than that of the typical Snjórlander, and with curls of brownish-red hair falling down her back, complete with a pair of ivory horns glittering in the flame's glow. Even with his mind muddled with drink, it did not take long for Gyllen to deduce that he was looking upon a crouching Pasiphaë. Wondering what she was up to so late and in such a position, the prince approached her as quietly as he could before whispering out into the silent air:

"Ms. Pasiphaë...?" The blond's soft voice made the bovine woman turn her head over her shoulder with a jolt.

"Great Hera, Gyl! You didn't half-give me a fright!" She chuckled. "Um...you caught me at a bit of a bad time here, honey..."

"Why? What is it that you're doing...?" The curious boy asked, edging closer towards the minotaur to see exactly why she was in the position she was before she even had a chance to protest to see a glint of a thin stream shooting from between her thighs and piddling onto the floor, forming a puddle between the cracks of the cobble. "Ms. Pasiphaë! A-are you urinating on palace grounds!?" Gyllen exclaimed in shock.

"Well, I did say it was a bad time..." She defended herself somewhat with a shrug, not stopping her peeing in the slightest when talking to the prince. " I couldn't find any of your toilets. This castle is too damn big! So when I couldn't hold it in anymore, I thought I could get away with quickly doing it in the corner somewhere out of sight...guess it wasn't as good a hiding place as I thought, eh?"

"Well, I suppose the latrine is a tad out of the way..." Gyllen idly stated, his attention mainly focused on ogling Pasi as she wee'd before him, in turn reminding the prince of how much wine he consumed himself during the festivities as he felt his own bladder begin to hurt with the need to micturate. "Would you...do you mind if I urinate here too...?" He hesitantly asked. It made a lot more sense at the time for him to want to stoop to such a vulgar action with his drunk mentality when he knew full well where the closest toilet was located. Pasiphaë looked up towards the inquisitive blonde's face with a puzzled expression that turned into a naughty smile.

"...Sure~" The minotaur answered after a short pause.

Without delay, Gyllen lifted up his blue, formal robes up from his bottom half before tucking them into the sash tied securely around his shapely hips. Pasiphaë kept an eye open to the side, watching the oblivious blonde as he stuck his thumbs into the waistband of the white, tight-fitting birches he wore beneath his gown, alongside his undergarments. He pulled them slowly off his pelvis, uncharacteristically unabashed when his small, flaccid prick was brought out into the open as the voyeuristic minotaur remained ever observant to his nudity, sucking on her lips with fervour from the lad's pseudo-strip tease. Once his trousers had been brought to his knees - showing off half of his smooth, light-skinned legs - the prince squatted himself in place, his pecker dangling between his legs with his rotund arse hovering just above the stony ground. When it came to using bathroom facilities, Gyllen was more a sitter rather than a stander, and even usually opted for this approximate position whenever there was not a proper water closet available. Maybe it was the isolation from other boys his age that he never learned the more masculine art of taking a leak. In any case, the teenaged royal relaxed himself and began his pee, the flow of golden liquid trickling out from the tip of the foreskin coating his cock. A small pool of yellowish secretion took circular shape underneath his overhanging behind, forcing the blond to slide his feet out of the way to avoid his boots from being stained.

The human boy and the bovine woman continued to wee in silent unison for a few seconds more, the only sounds heard in that time being the tinkling of water against water. Gyllen then -- mainly subconsciously - turned his head suddenly to the side, having momentarily forgot and subsequently recalling he was in the company of another...another who just so happened to be incredibly beautiful and buxom. As if by sudden reflex, the prince's gaze then dropped down the minotaur's curvy figure and caught a glimpse of the bounty betwixt her legs, even if it was mostly covered by a carpet of deep red curls. In an instant, the virile boy's dick ceased its emission and stiffened straight upwards, the glans peeking out from the slightly pulled back prepuce. Gyllen's slowed reaction time meant he did not initially acknowledged his abrupt erection. In fact, it was not until Pasiphaë commented on it - seeing how she was mutually gawking at the prince's thin frame and exposed privates - that he became aware of his obvious arousal.

"My, Prince~!" She stated in a sultry voice just when finishing up her own toilet too. "Isn't that a little unethical for a noble~?"

"Hm? ...oh, Gods! H-how embarrassing!" Gyllen stammered after taking a moment to realise what it was Pasiphaë was referring to, quickly trying to cover his shame using his robe though was prevented from doing such when the minotaur female gripped his wrist.

"It's fine...I really don't mind~" Pasi flicked her finger against the prince's sensitive sex, causing him to flinch with a soft yelp and a small drop of pre-cum to fly from his urethra onto the stone floor underneath followed by a giggle from the older woman. "Adorable~" She sighed out before gripping her strong hold tightly around the lad's tender shaft without warning, followed by an unnerved squeak coming from the sheltered blond.

"Ms. Pasiphaë..." He would groan out. Of course, being pleasured by another's hold was nothing unusual for the prince by this point, though - being outside of his 'Goldie' persona - he was in awe at how audacious the minotaur was being to casually do such a thing to the prince of a kingdom, though her extensive alcoholic consumption earlier in the evening no doubt contributed to her daring. Of course, Gyllen's similar inebriation was also partially the reason he was allowing such in the first place without much protest.

"This is what we call a 'handjob', Gyllen~" Pasiphaë hiccupped, speaking down to the prince in a patronising tone.

"Yes...I am well aware, Ms. Pasiphaë..." The effeminate teen sighed out while the minotaur slowly stroked his shaft, his eyes closed and his face in a state of relaxation in contrast to his legs quivering from a bout of nerves.

"Oooh, such a naughty prince~!" Pasi winked. "Where did you learn about that then, hm?" She made small talk with the noble lad.

"Um..." Gyllen frantically darted his eyes about in an attempt to change the subject as so he did not have to explain the time Min demonstrated her double-pawed pepper mill technique on him, finding his eyes once again drawn to her titanic tits. "My, Ms. Pasiphaë! Those are a certainly lovely set of breasts!" He jarringly declared with semi-genuineness.

"Oh, you've got a good eye, lad~!" Pasiphaë laughed, proudly holding up her udders from their underside and lightly squeezing them as a small show for the golden-haired prince. Gyllen was entranced by her ginormous globes before noticing a trickle of white liquid escape from one of their nubs, his eyes following it downwards across the rounded mound in silent astonishment that the bovine female was beginning to lactate before him! The minotaur could somewhat feel her milk crawling across her flesh, looking downwards to her chest confirm her suspicion.

"Oh, dear. Looks like I've gone and sprung a leak again~!" She exclaimed in a joking tone, intentionally squeezing on her tit harder to allow further fluid to pour forth. "You know, they say minotaur milk helps in sobering you up~"

"They...they do?" Gyllen's face shot back upwards to Pasi's as his sapphire eyes glimmered.

"Erm...not really...but do you still want to try~?"

"Gladly!" The prince eagerly accepted. As soon as that second syllable had exited his mouth, Pasiphaë pulled the lad towards her, resting his back across her bent knees as she remained in her ducked position. Gyllen's arms clenched across his chest as he rested on the non-human's lap while a massive mammary loomed over his head. The prince did little else but just keep his look fixed at its immense volume, intimidated even by its overwhelming presence. Min may have been busty for her height but she had nothing compared to what Pasiphaë was rocking.