Anthology Toy Box Prince Albert

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Torquere Press

www.torquerepress.com

First published in www.torquerepress.com, 2009

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Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

CONTENTS

Definition and Etymology
Poking Holes
Ring of Pleasure
Fiddler in the Buff
Contributors' Bios

* * * *

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Definition and Etymology

Definition: The "Prince Albert" is a male genital piercing

that goes through the glans (head) of the penis and out
through the urethra.

Source:

tattoo.about.com/cs/beginners/g/blglosap.htm

Etymology: Legend says that an actual Prince Albert had

this piercing, thus the name. However, this has never been
proven and the actual origination of the name is unknown.

Source:

tattoo.about.com/cs/beginners/g/blglosap.htm

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Poking Holes

by Heidi Champa
The autoclave room was unbearably hot. The fan in the

wall was useless. It gave a constant anemic squeal, sucking in
the humid air from outside and mixing it with the arid air
inside. The room went from desert to swamp. Either way, my
ass was sweaty.

As I bagged the dirty tools, I felt the droplets of sweat

pour down my back. I flipped off another pair of latex gloves,
sweat pooled at the fingertips. One landed with a splat on the
floor, missing the overflowing trash can. The thought of
bending over to reach for it was too much movement in the
sticky, thick air. I resolved to get it later. I slipped the last set
of pliers into the medical bag, sealing it tightly. Closing the
autoclave, I set the timer. Bumping my hip into the swollen
door, I finally felt some fresh air hitting my face. My relief
was short lived.

"Sam, you have a customer." Becky's voice came lilting

through the hallway, but even her sweet tones irritated me.

I peered at the front of the shop, and I saw him. Derek. I

smiled as I mopped the sweat from my forehead with a thin,
scratchy brown paper towel. It had been weeks since I'd seen
him, but I'd known he'd be back. I walked to the front of the
store, letting the air conditioning hit me full in the face. Derek
turned when he saw me, pushing his glasses up his thin nose.
His eyebrow piercing had healed nicely. No scarring, no
keloids.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

He was my ultimate project. When he'd walked in two

years ago, he was a blank slate. He'd never even had a
terrible high school ear piercing. Staring into the jewelry
display, he'd looked up at me timidly and announced he
wanted his tongue pierced. I stared at his nervous eyes.

"Are you sure about that? It's kind of serious for the first

time."

"I'm sure. I've been thinking about it for weeks. I heard

you're the best." When he said it, he looked away shyly. His
glasses were smudged and sat slightly crooked on his face.
But through them were shiny blue eyes, framed by thick black
brows.

"Well, okay then. Why don't I walk you through the whole

process?"

"That sounds great. Do you think before we get started I

could take a look at your autoclave?"

I was taken aback by his request. It was one of those

things every pamphlet said to do, but no one ever did. I
happily walked him into the converted supply closet and
showed him all the equipment. The tiny room was always hot,
and in the cramped space we were nearly touching. I could
feel his breath on my neck as he peered at the ultrasonic
cleaner over my shoulder. I tried to turn around without
causing too much contact, but we brushed arms in the
minimal space. We stood face to face, almost too close for me
to focus on his eyes.

"So, that's about it."
"Thanks for humoring me. I'm sorry to put you through all

this."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"It's no problem. Don't be sorry."
"You probably think I'm just stalling."
"Are you?"
He shifted his weight and pushing his glasses up; a

thoughtless movement. "Okay, I admit it. I'm a little
nervous."

"That's normal. Trust me."
"I do. I do trust you."
"Then I guess we should get started."
I spent nearly an hour with Derek, walking him through

every step of the piercing process. He asked a million
questions, interrupting me every few minutes to get more
information. Ordinarily, a customer like Derek would have
driven me crazy. But his quirky questions and his nervous
concern made him endearing. When I finally picked up the
needle and the clamp, Derek turned white. His eyes widened
with panic, and for a second, I worried he would pass out.

"Are you still with me?"
"Yeah. I'm just feeling a little light-headed. That needle is

bigger than I thought."

"Maybe we should do this another time, Derek."
"No. No, I've put you through enough today. I'm doing

this."

He straightened up, gripping the edge of the table until his

knuckles were white. I dropped my hands to his, pulling his
fingers off the padded edge. He stared at me, his lids droopy
and his blue eyes clouded. Before I could say another word,
he fell back onto the table.

"Derek, Derek?"

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

After a few seconds, his eyes opened slowly, his face still a

ghostly white. He looked around the room, not letting go of
my gloved hand. He held it tightly, his fingers lacing between
mine. Without warning, he pulled me close, my mouth right
above his. I knew I shouldn't, that we shouldn't go any
further. But, when he put his hand on my neck, I didn't resist.
His lips were impossibly soft, his kiss more forceful than I
anticipated. As quickly as it happened, it was over. Derek
looked around, his self-conscious nature returning. He
struggled to sit up, but I stopped him.

"I don't think so. You just relax."
"I don't know what happened. I'm not usually like this. You

must think I'm such a wuss."

"Believe me, I've seen a lot worse. At least you didn't piss

yourself."

He laughed, a little color springing back to his cheeks.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have
kissed you."

"Hey, don't worry about it. I've seen it all around here.

Besides, it was nice."

He blushed, his cheeks rose red against his white face.

After all the drama, Derek's piercing went perfectly. He barely
flinched. I secured the jewelry and he pulled his tongue back
into his mouth. For the first time since the autoclave room, he
smiled at me.

"Thanks, Sam."
I couldn't help but laugh at the lisping way Derek said my

name. A little saliva dribbled out, his mouth adjusting to its
new appendage.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"You're welcome Derek."
"I promise, next time, I won't be so difficult."
Since that first day, I had pierced Derek's septum, ears,

nipples, and most recently, his eyebrow. There were still a
million questions, and his adorable neurotic nature always
made me smile. But we never kissed again. We never talked
about it either. As I walked around behind the counter, I saw
Derek staring at the jewelry under the glass, his tongue bar
poking between his teeth.

"Well, Derek, what's it to be this time?"
He looked up at me and smiled, his grin devilish and

sweet. He wasn't conventionally attractive, but he was damn
cute. His black hair was always messy, his clothes always
slightly too big. But those blue puppy-dog eyes made my
stomach grip a little tighter every time I saw them.

"Sam, I'm finally ready."
"Ready for what?"
"You know what."
"No. No way. There is no way you're ready for that."
"Sam, my good man, I'm ready. I told you this day would

come."

Derek had been joking with me about getting a Prince

Albert since the second time he'd come into the shop. He
knew I had one, and he never failed to mention it when he
came in for his latest poke. But I knew that it was way out of
his league. He'd passed out just looking at a needle that first
time. I couldn't imagine what would happen when I came at
his dick with a needle and a receiving tube. But Derek

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

seemed oddly calm, despite his fingers drumming quickly on
the counter.

"You're really, really sure about this?"
"I am. I've heard all I need to hear. I'm ready."
"Okay. Then let's do it. Hoop or barbell?"
"What do you have?"
I coughed, startled by his question. For the first time in a

long time, I felt a blush creep into my cheeks. Derek wasn't
usually so forward.

"I have a hoop."
"What gauge is it?"
"Eight. But, I think we would start you with a fourteen

gauge."

"I'll take your word for it, Sam."
I proceeded with my routine, while Derek filled out the

same form he had filled out a million times before. I kept
waiting for him to change his mind, realize what he was
getting into, but he didn't. He dropped his pen on the counter
and smiled more confidently than I had ever seen.

"I'll be right with you, Derek. I just have to set up."
I walked into the piercing room and realized that my pulse

was racing. My hands shook as I opened each drawer without
thinking, years of practice taking over. All this repetition
allowed my mind to wander, to consider what I was about to
do. Derek was going to walk into the room and let me put a
hollow needle through the tender flesh of his cock, and attach
a ring. I had done it a thousand times. To a thousand people.
It had never once, in all that time, felt like an intimate act.
Clinical, detached, over in a hurry. That was how I liked it.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

But how could I rush through with Derek? My sweet, sensitive
Derek.

I heard a faint knock at the door. A glance at the clock told

me I was taking too long. The door pushed open tentatively,
Becky appearing in the frame.

"You all set?"
"Yeah, send him in."
Derek sauntered in, plopping down on the bed without

hesitation. The other times he had been in this room, he'd
walked more like a lamb to slaughter. Not today. Something
was different about Derek.

"So, can you explain everything to me one more time?"
"Really, Derek? I mean, how many times have we been

over this?"

"I know, I know. Humor me. I just want to hear it one

more time."

I shook my head as I straightened my supplies, each

wrapped tightly in a sealed bag. I turned to face Derek, his
anticipation clear all over his face.

"Okay, well, I'll clean the area right underneath the head.

Then, I'll insert this thin receiving tube into your urethra, so
the needle stops. Then poke, jewelry, done. Just like the
others."

"I don't think it will be exactly like the others, do you?"
"No, I don't think so."
"Does it hurt? I mean, did it hurt you?"
"Of course."
"How bad?"
"I don't know Derek. Everyone is different."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Did you scream?"
"No."
"What if I scream?"
"Then you scream. Don't worry. I won't think any less of

you."

"Sure you would."
His smile was fading a bit, the panic I was used to seeing

starting to creep into his eyes. The carefully constructed
confidence was cracking. I smirked, looking at his flagging
resolve.

"You okay, Derek? You know you can still back out."
"Let me see yours."
"What?"
"I want to see your Prince Albert."
"No way. You've seen the pictures. You know what it looks

like."

"I want to see yours. Come on, be a pal. Show me."
"I'm not going to show you, sorry."
He surprised me by standing up and walking toward me. I

retreated as far as the wall would let me, but all too soon, I
was out of space. My back pressed into the metal, Derek's
knee slipped in between my thighs. The confidence was back,
in a big way.

"Come on, Sam. I want to see it. Don't you want to show

me?"

I opened my mouth to object again, but his hands were

faster than my brain. He yanked at my belt, his nimble
fingers slipping button after button open. He paused before
he yanked my pants down, his hands caressing my hips

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

before I was standing in just my boxers. He leaned against
me, our bodies touching for the first time since we'd met. Our
mouths were as close as that day, the day the kiss never
mentioned had taken place.

"Sam, let me see it."
Derek was in total control. As much as I liked my quiet

little Derek, this new Derek was even hotter. I'd never known
he had it in him. My hands went to the waistband of my
boxers, my eyes glued to his. I slipped the cotton down,
down, down until they joined my jeans at my knees.

Derek's eyes dropped from mine, trailing down my body

until they came to rest on the circle of metal dangling from
my cock. It had been there so long, I rarely thought about it.
The novelty had worn off years ago. Derek's gaze made it
seem new, fresh. I flinched when his hand reached out to
touch me. His fingers gently grasped the ring, giving it a
slight twist. My mouth fell open, a moan coming out before I
could stop it.

"Nice. Very nice. I like it. But maybe I should take a closer

look, just to be sure."

Derek dropped to his knees in front of me, his fist easing

around my cock. I was hard, even before he started slowly
moving his hand up and down my shaft. His eyes were
focused on the metal piercing my swollen head. He looked
almost reverent, his eyes pointed with desire. I couldn't resist
putting my hand on his head, feeling the soft black silk of his
hair. His blue eyes came up to meet mine, a sly smile spread
across his face.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

His tongue stuck out from between his lips, the tip barely

touching the cool metal hoop. Licking from bottom to top, he
moistened the whole ring. He still hadn't touched my skin. He
was making me wait for it.

"Derek, please."
"It's beautiful Sam. Really. Just like you."
My knees slipped a bit as his mouth closed over the head

of my cock. I tried to keep quiet, knowing Becky was right
outside the door. Derek flicked his tongue over the ring
before licking his way down my dick. My hips pushed forward,
both of my hands holding Derek's head. He moved slowly,
groaning each time the head of my cock hit his throat. The
slight strafing of teeth forced me to put a hand over my
mouth to stop a yelp from getting out into the room. His lips
slid down to the head, sucking roughly on my ring. I heard it
clicking and bouncing off his teeth. Pulling back, he grasped
the silver between his lips and tugged, forcing a pearl of pre-
come from my filled slit.

"Derek, if you keep this up, I'm gonna come."
"Good, I want you to."
"You're just trying to get out of getting stuck."
He smiled before sucking my cock back into his mouth,

deep and hard. I let my head fall back against the wall,
staring up into the vent blowing out cool air. Derek's fist
joined his mouth, twisting and jerking until I couldn't stand it
anymore. I held his head for dear life, my cock twitching
against his slowly moving tongue. The large bead of his
tongue barbell slid along the underside of cock with each
deliberate stroke. I felt my hot come shoot out into his

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

mouth, the hoop forcing it in every direction. My thighs
twitched uncontrollably, aftershocks rippling up and down my
body.

Derek took his time licking and sucking me clean, swiping

over my jumpy, sensitive cock like a lollipop. With a loud
suck, he released my ring from his lips, licking it gently one
last time. Despite all the cool air, sweat poured off my
forehead. Derek stood, kissing my lips just once before sitting
back down on the table.

"Okay, Sam. I'm ready."
I pulled up my pants, still trembling and spent. I buckled

my belt, laughing at Derek's nonchalance. I washed my
hands, falling quickly back into my piercer role. We had
already been in the room way too long. Becky was going to
start to wonder. I slipped on my latex gloves, snapping them
hard against my wrists like a doctor. I walked to my supplies,
eyeing the thick, hollow needle through its plastic window.

"Drop your pants."
Derek stood and slowly opened his jeans, sliding them

down along with his boxers. He was hard as a rock, and
bigger than I expected. But all that would have to wait. I had
a job to do, after all.

"Last chance. You sure about this?"
"I'm ready. Be gentle with me."
I opened up all my tools, laying them out as Derek

watched. I grabbed his cock, his heat obvious even through
my gloves. I swabbed him clean with a Q-tip, the cool liquid
forcing a giggle out of him. His smirk died when I brandished
the receiving tube and needle. I leaned over him, just like I

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

had that day two years before. Kissing him seemed to calm
him, his fast breath easing just a bit. He sucked my lower lip,
nibbling gently before letting me go.

"You ready?"
"Ready."
He gasped, gripping the table as I slid the receiving tube

into his narrow slit.

"Just try to relax. It will be over before you know it. Take

nice deep breaths. You know the drill."

I positioned the needle, his chest rising and falling as he

waited for me to do it. I counted to three, quicker than
usually, and pushed the needle through the thin skin of his
cock.

"Oh, God, Sam."
Derek arched his back, my name slipping out of his lips in

a rasp. I corked the sharp point, feeding the jewelry right
behind the needle in one swift motion. The ring sat proudly in
place, open wide and waiting for its bead.

"You okay, Derek?"
"Yeah. I'm fine. Damn, that hurt, Sam. I told you to be

gentle."

Closing the ring, I placed the bead and went about

cleaning away the few traces of blood that appeared. His face
was flat and white, his hand moving lazily on his chest. I
removed my gloves, disposed of the trash, and put my tools
in the biohazard bin. I ran my hand through his moist hair;
sweat coated his forehead.

"Well, I survived."
"You did great."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Do I have to get up?"
"Eventually. But not yet."
I kissed him again, his tongue bar scraping over my

unaltered flesh. I had only one piercing. And Derek now had
the same one. It had turned out perfectly, the hoop accenting
the thick, plump head of his equally perfect dick.

"So, when can I come back? You know, just so you can

make sure everything is healing up okay?"

"Six weeks."
"Six weeks? I don't know if I can wait that long."
"Trust me. Six weeks. Otherwise we'll both be sorry."
Derek sat up gingerly, his pants hanging off his ankles. I

sat down next to him, our mouths meeting one last time
before the clock struck midnight.

"It's closing time."
"Well, then I better put my pants on."
Derek dressed slowly and we left the room hand in hand.

Becky beamed from behind the counter, shaking her head
with a knowing smile.

"It's about time, you two."
Derek walked the familiar walk of a recent Prince Albert

convert. We hugged, gently, before I walked him to the door.

"See you in six weeks."
"No. You'll see me on Friday."
He kissed me and walked out the door. I turned around

and walked back down the hall. The autoclave should be
finished by now.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Ring of Pleasure

by Mike Shade
"So? Is it all ready?" He'd been waiting for weeks.
Weeks.
Waiting and patient and everything. He hadn't touched. He

hadn't tasted. He hadn't been fucked.

Giles thought if it wasn't healed, he'd scream in pure, wild

frustration.

Marshall, his gorgeous, handsome man, looked over at

him, frowned, and asked, "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" He hadn't had a non-

masturbatory orgasm in six weeks.

Six.
Weeks.
Which was a lot of days.
And zillions of hours.
Marshall pushed a lock of brown hair out of his eyes and

explained, "I mean what are you talking about?"

Giles stood there, mouth opening and closing, over and

over.

He.
It.
Weeks.
Marshall sat back and crossed his arms. Muscles bulged

enticingly. "Well? Is what ready?"

"I. Nothing. I need a beer." Maybe he had the date wrong.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Nothing? Are you sure?" Was that a twitch at the corner

of Marshall's full lips?

"I'm going to beat your ass." That felt clear enough.
"Promises, promises." Marshall's long legs spread.
"Oh, you teasing bastard."
Marshall grinned, light brown eyes twinkling—twinkling!

"I've been waiting for you to say something all day."

"So?" Giles bounced on his toes, eyes on his lover. His

adventurous, amazing, kinky, pierced lover.

"So? So, I've got a half inch of metal in my dick and

today's D-day and you waited all damn day to ask about it!"
Marshall shook his head, but Giles could tell he wasn't really
pissed or anything.

"I was being patient and shit. Please, baby... Is it healed?

Can you fuck me? Can I touch it?"

Marshall patted his thigh. "Come and get it."
"Fuck, yeah." Giles pounced, launching himself at Marshall.
Laughing, Marshall caught him. "Careful now. You don't

want to rip it off."

"No. No, God no. I want to love on it, lick it, ride it..."
"God, I love the way you think." Marshall's fingers slid into

his scraggly blond hair to grab his head, tilting it. Their
mouths fused together. His lover tasted like coffee and mint
and sugar, the flavor addictive and delicious. Almost perfect.

Marshall's big hand held his head as their kisses continued,

deep and wonderful.

He started working the buttons of Marshall's shirt open,

baring the muscled chest.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"I'm impressed with your restraint—I expected you to tear

my pants open first thing, but you're taking your time."
Marshall was almost pouting as he said it.

"Shut up." He headed for the pants next.
Marshall laughed, but there was a hitch in his breath, too.

Someone was just as eager as he was, no matter how
nonchalant his lover was trying to be.

Giles was careful not to catch anything or pinch anything

or... The scent of pure male lust hit him like a wave.

"Come on, babe, take it out. You know you want to."

Marshall wasn't pretending at all anymore. His voice had gone
deep and husky, the need right there for Giles to hear.

"Uh-huh. Bad." Giles eased the heavy, pretty cock out,

fingers dragging over the tip, trailing over the warm, smooth
ring.

"Fuck!" Marshall bucked for him, hips jerking and nearly

unseating him.

"Uh-huh." He slithered down, staring at the piercing. God,

that was hot. His mouth was watering, just looking at it.
Marshall smelled so good, too: clean and musky, all male.

His tongue flicked out, just barely touching where metal

met flesh.

Groaning, Marshall spread his legs wider. "Go for it, babe.

Come on, take what you want."

"Take the first of what I want." He groaned, and then took

Marshall in one swoop, down to the root.

He could feel the ring hit the back of his throat even as

Marshall moaned and grabbed hold of his head. Oh, fuck. Oh,

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

wow and fuck together. He tightened his lips, swallowing a
little.

"Shit. Fuck. Shit. God." Marshall clutched at his hair,

nearly tugging it out at one point, and then the hands on his
head settled into gentle tugs and pats. "So sensitive."

He'd be careful. Gentle. Focused. All sorts of things, if he

could get fucked.

"Gonna make me shoot, babe, it feels so damn good."

Marshall's thighs trembled.

He lifted up, shook his head. "No coming. I want you to

fuck me, good and hard."

"I could do both." Marshall's words sounded like gravel,

like he was holding it back with everything he had.

"Promise? You swear?" He leaned down, holding Marshall's

gaze, tongue dragging over that pretty cock head, that ring.

Marshall's hips jerked. "I'm sure. Please, babe. Make me

come like this."

"You sure?" He took the ring carefully in his teeth and

tugged.

"Fuck! Giles!" Marshall panted, almost trembling. "Fuck."
"Mmmhmm." He tugged again.
"Yes. Shit, Giles, you wouldn't believe what that's like."
Nope. He wouldn't. He wasn't getting one of those. He was

chicken.

"Suck me again? Please." Marshall never begged. Before.
"Yeah." He groaned and sucked that amazing length of

flesh back in.

"That's it, babe." Marshall's fingers tangled in his hair,

holding his head in place as Marshall bucked.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

He slurped and sucked, pulling hard, loving on Marshall's

prick as best he could.

"Giles." Marshall froze and his name was just a whisper

before come poured down his throat.

He swallowed and sucked, took it all down.
"Babe..." Marshall's fingers loosened, stroked through his

hair, almost petting him.

Giles hummed, tongue focusing on working that little ring,

moving it, learning it.

"Gonna keep me hard."
That was the idea. Marshall had promised.
"I think I'm not going to be getting many kisses for the

next little while. You're going to give all that tongue action to
the ring."

What did Marshall expect? Giles grinned, flicked the ring

again. Marshall groaned, hips bucking again, a little more
weakly this time. Giles let his eyes fall closed and he focused
on keeping Marshall hard, keeping that sweet prick
interested.

"You looking forward to me fucking you with this, babe?

You want to feel it inside you?"

That made him groan, made his hips jerk and fuck the air

hopefully. He wanted it about as much as he wanted to keep
breathing.

"Come on, babe. You've had your fun with the ring—now

it's my turn. Bed." Marshall stood and hauled him up, all but
dragging him down the hall to his little bedroom.

"I fucking want you. Now." His balls ached, hanging low

and heavy, making him want to walk bow-legged.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"You've wanted me for six fucking weeks." Grinning,

Marshall pushed him down onto the bed, looming over him
like some half-dressed god.

"Uh-huh. And if you don't fuck me. Right. Now. I'm going

to have a fit." He wiggled out of his jeans, kicked them off.

"Oh, now, that could be interesting to see." Marshall put

his arms across his chest like he was going to stand there and
watch all night. Of course, the asshole had gotten off once
already, so he wasn't as desperate as Giles was.

"Don't fucking tease." He threw a pillow at Marshall.
"I don't get to watch you having a fit? Spoilsport." Marshall

gave him a wink that disappeared into the white T-shirt as
Marshall finally started undressing.

"Later. Later, Marshall. Please."
"Get yourself ready for me." It wasn't a request so much

as an order; he could hear that in Marshall's voice.

"I'm ready. I'm ready." Still he grabbed the lube and

juiced himself up.

Marshall didn't pull his pants and underwear off until Giles

was done—the big tease.

Then, though, oh, then Marshall grabbed hold of himself,

hand wrapping around that huge dick. Marshall stroked a few
times, the little ring glinting at the tip. It would disappear for
a second as Marshall's hand covered the head of his dick, and
then it would reappear again as Marshall's hand stroked
down.

"How do you want me?" Besides now, of course.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Just where you are. I want to see in your face how it

feels." Marshall climbed up onto the bed, kneeling between
his spread legs.

"It's going to feel good to you, too, right?" He knew it was

going to rock for him.

"Babe. It's screwing—of course it's going to feel good for

me."

"Oh, good." He grabbed his knees.
"Look at you." Marshall leaned over him, cock pushing

against his hole.

He could feel the little ring, right there, foreign and

amazing among all that heat. "Uh-huh. In. In. I need."

"Yeah, in." Marshall pushed forward and the thick, pierced

cock pushed right into him, spreading him wide.

"Fuck..." Oh, yeah. Fuck yeah. Hell yeah. His toes curled

and he almost screamed.

"That's the plan, babe." Marshall gave Giles one of those

wild grins of his that meant Giles was in for a good, hard
fucking.

"Uh-huh." He liked this plan.
A lot.
"Yeah." Marshall pulled out slowly, and Giles felt that ring

the entire way. Then Marshall pushed back and Giles swore
he could feel that little piece of jewelery bump right along his
sweet spot.

"Marshall." He blinked, staring at Marshall like the world

was going to come to an end.

"Don't tell me you want me to stop." Marshall has slowed

down, though, waiting for his answer.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Don't you fucking stop."
"I'm not planning to." The pace sped up again. "Thought

you wanted me to." Then Marshall stopped talking, the thick
cock taking him over and over, just like that little ring bashed
into his prostate again and again. His eyes rolled up in his
head and he started grunting, sounds pushing out of him.

"Yeah, babe. You like that? I do." Faster, harder, Marshall

kept fucking him through the mattress.

He couldn't speak.
Not at all.
It didn't seem to matter for Marshall. He kept fucking, kept

pushing into Giles. Finally, Giles let go of his knees, grabbed
hold of his cock, and started stroking. Marshall's nostril's
flared and the look in his eyes got hotter. Giles groaned,
jacking faster and harder, his entire body screaming to come.

"Come," murmured Marshall. "Come. Come. Come."
"Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Fucking shit..." His shoulders came up

off the mattress, and he shot hard.

"Oh, Christ." Marshall groaned and kept pounding into him,

ever harder now, deeper. It wasn't long before he'd shot, too.
Giles could feel the hot come inside him.

"Good..." He blinked slowly, head lolling on the bed.
Marshall's mouth covered his, the kiss long and lazy. Their

tongues slid against each other, familiar as breathing.

Their mouths parted slowly, Marshall smiling down at him.

"Did it live up to your expectations?"

"Uh-huh." In, like, the best way possible.
"Good. Good." Marshall groaned as he pulled out. "You're

so tight. It's hot."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Is it different for you?"
"Shit, yes. It's still pretty sensitive and it pulls and drags."

Marshall grinned, looking smug and happy and pleased all at
once.

Giles rolled over, climbed out of bed and went to grab

some towels to clean up. "It felt amazing, in me."

"I loved the look on your face."
He felt his cheeks heat. "Goofy orgasm face?"
"Sexy, goofy orgasm face." Marshall had post-sex lazy face

on at the moment.

He threw Marshall a damp towel. "I'm still not getting mine

done."

"Chicken," Marshall accused softly, wiping his cock down

carefully.

"Bawk, bawk, bawk." His hands were somehow covering

his cock, just from the thought.

Marshall laughed and reached out to him. "Come back to

bed, babe. Come look your fill."

He nodded and pushed into Marshall's arms. "Look, touch,

taste. These are all very good words."

"Yeah, you can do all that. It's why I got it, you know?
"Uh-huh. You're way braver than I am."
"I was very motivated." Marshall stroked his arm,

fingertips sliding on his skin. His flesh goosepimpled up where
Marshall's finger touched. "You got any other fantasies I
should know about, babe?"

"Nope. I didn't even know I had that one, until you did it."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Marshall chuckled. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to do

all sorts of weird things, just hoping to hit on one of your
kinks."

"Oh, that has possibilities," he teased.
"It does. I think you're a very kinky guy under all that

vanilla respectability."

"Not even a little. I'm an accountant, damn it."
"You are. I think that clinches it. Still waters and all that."
Giles snorted, but he couldn't hide his blush, not being

bare naked.

Marshall rolled them, putting him underneath that strong,

sturdy body. Gaze meeting his, Marshall stared down at him.
"I think you like it. You like people thinking you're dull and
staid and boring and all the while, inside, you're going 'my
man has a PA, nyah, nyah, nyah.'"

"People think I'm boring?"
"Um... accountants. People traditionally think accountants

are boring."

"No." He managed to keep a straight face for, oh, ten

seconds.

Marshall tickled him, fingers digging into his sides just

enough to make him squirm beneath Marshall's weight.

"Butthead!" They both started laughing, chuckling

together.

Marshall kissed him when the laughter ended, and his face

got serious again. "You'd tell me, right? I mean, if you got
bored with me."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Why would I get bored with you?" Giles asked. Marshall

was it for him, Mr. Right and Mr. Right Now all rolled up into
one.

"It happens." Marshall kissed him again. "I. It does, you

know. You think everything's going fine and then your partner
tells you it's not enough anymore."

"No. That was him, not me. I won't do that to you."
"I know, babe." Marshall sighed and stayed there, on top

of him, face buried in his neck now.

He stroked and petted, shaking his head. "One day you'll

believe me."

"I do, babe, I swear. I know you're a good man, and I

know you're mine. It just kicks me now and then, you know?"

Giles knew. He reached down, fingers cradling Marshall's

pierced cock so he could move the ring. Marshall's eyes went
to half-mast, a look of pleasure settling on Marshall's
features. That was right. Focus on this, on them, on the good.

"You're going to drive me crazy with that thing, babe.

Don't stop."

"I don't intend to. In fact, I'm going to see if we can go for

round three for you." It might not work, but it would be
incredibly fun to try.

Marshall laughed, the sound husky, happy, too. "Three in a

row? Maybe I should have gotten Prince Albert a long time
ago."

"Maybe. Of course, we'll have to see if it works."
"I bet you make it work, babe." Marshall gave him another

one of those slow, intense kisses that he felt all the way to his
toes.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

He hoped so. Making things work was kind of his thing.
Marshall rubbed their cheeks together, pressed a kiss to

his forehead, his nose, his mouth.

"Love you, you know that, right?" He stared into Marshall's

eyes. It was important that Marshall knew that.

"I know, babe. That turns me on most of all, you know?"
"Good." His fingers were fascinated by that ring.
Fascinated.
He loved the way it was slick and smooth, and the way his

explorations made Marshall jerk and groan.

"You have to tell me if it starts to hurt, baby." He could

lube everything up again.

"Not hurting, I swear."
"Good." He groaned, slid his finger inside the ring and

tugged. Once.

"Giles!" Marshall's shoulders came off the bed.
"Uh-huh?" He was going for innocent.
"Damn." Panting, Marshall lay back down. "Careful."
"Sorry. Sorry, baby." He eased off.
"It's okay. A bit overwhelming."
"I bet." He backed off, leaned down and kissed the tip of

Marshall's prick.

It jerked beneath his lips "Mmm."
"Shh. I'm going easy." He kissed again.
"Not too easy. Feels good." Marshall's fingers stroked

through his hair, a shuddering breath leaving Marshall's
chest.

"The kisses or the touches?"
"Both."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Yeah." They did feel good.
Giles focused on alternating them, first his tongue, then

his fingers, over and over. Soon Marshall was rocking and
rolling. His lover's hips bucked and swayed. He closed his
eyes, focusing on nothing but the tastes, the salt on his
tongue, the metallic bite of the ring.

Marshall began to talk to him. Each word sounded

breathless, needy. It didn't really make sense, it was just
babbling. It didn't matter. He understood each word.

Marshall's hands slid on his skin, touching randomly. Giles

licked at the ring, nudging it, over and over.

"Babe. Babe. Gonna. You're gonna."
That was the point, wasn't it? To make it as good as he

could. Marshall danced on the bed; his whole body undulated.

Giles stuck two fingers in his lips, wetting them, before

sliding them deep into Marshall's tight little hole.

"Babe!" Marshall began to saw between his fingers and his

mouth.

"Mmmhmm." He didn't stop, didn't back off at all.
"Yeah, yeah." He could feel Marshall was really, really

close.

He added one more finger and backed up until his tongue

was fucking the ring in Marshall's dick, pushing into the little
circle of metal, over and over.

"Giles!" Marshall screamed his name out and came. Seed

sprayed over his face.

He blinked, gasped, more than a little shocked.
More than a little turned on.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"God. That was... amazing." Marshall laughed breathlessly.

"You're amazing."

He licked his lips, the flavor of Marshall strong, bitter.
"Sorry, babe." Marshall's fingers slid over his face, cleaning

it.

"I'm not."
"No?"
He grinned, tongue just barely touching that shiny little

ring. "No."

"And you say I'm kinky."
"Yeah. Kinky and mine."
Marshall laughed. "Good thing you're also kinky and mine."
Giles chuckled. "Yeah. Well, I'm still not getting my prick

pierced."

* * * *

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Fiddler in the Buff

by Lee Benoit
Preston was in pain, but not so much that he'd hallucinate

a naked man playing a violin in his back bedroom.

He was still standing at the corner of the patio, looking

through the open bedroom window and swaying to strains of
Ravel, shaking his head at the sight, when Paulo bounded up
from the direction of the garden shed.

"Welcome home, sir! What's in the bag?"
They shared a kiss and, just like every time they kissed,

Preston found his thoughts progressively difficult to gather.
He tightened his fingers gingerly around the rolled-down edge
of the paper sack he held to keep from dropping it on the
patio stones.

"Very nice, boy," he murmured. "Have you been home a

while?" He knew Paulo had spent the day helping his cousin
Tiago power wash their grandmother's house, but he seemed
to have skipped a shower in favor of getting right into the
garden when he came home. He smelled delightfully of
gasoline, solvent, potting mix, and sweaty young man.

"Just long enough to greet our guest. I hightailed it out

here as soon as I showed him his room." Paulo's gaze
followed Preston's through the open window. "Huh. He had
clothes on when he arrived."

Something, perhaps some strain in Paulo's voice, had

Preston shifting his focus from his submissive to the sublime
noise from the bedroom, and back again.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"So, who is he?"
"You don't know?"
If Paulo didn't know who the naked fiddler was, and

Preston didn't... He shook his head negatively.

"Well, he came with a note."
Preston waited patiently. He trusted that all would be

made clear.

Paulo grinned. "You know, like Paddington in the stories?

'Please look after this bear'?"

All would be made clear some other time, evidently.

Preston waited some more. His groin was pleasantly snugged
up against Paulo's, but not enough to hurt. His hands felt fine
today—no twinge of arthritis—so he gripped Paulo's coverall-
covered ass with his free hand. Nice. He'd had an adventure
in town today, and a surprise for Paulo, but there was no
urgency. Waiting to learn what was going on wasn't a
hardship.

"Never mind," Paulo said and leaned up for another quick

kiss. "The note was from Tasim. It's on the kitchen table."

They crossed the patio and stepped into the kitchen, where

sure enough, a folded sheet of Tasim's signature handmade
indigo stationery waited. It was sealed with silver wax and
written in silver ink. Sometimes Tasim was just too baroque
for words. Preston laid down his paper bag and read what his
best friend had written.

"His name's Zaz Truffaut. He's a violinist," he told Paulo.
Paulo cocked an eye toward the back hallway and Preston

added, "Obviously. He's in town auditioning for the
Symphony."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"And he doesn't know a soul in Sister City so Tasim figured

he'd foist him on us?" Paulo was grinning.

"He's also auditioning, if you want to call it that, for a

position in Tasim's household." Preston had played host to
such fellows before, but not since taking up with Paulo. Still,
it wasn't like Tasim to give no notice about such things.

Paulo gave him a 'so what' look, so Preston elaborated,

"They never stay with him until he decides." After their recent
troubles began with a misunderstanding about Tasim's...
procedures, Preston wanted to be very clear. "He'll be our
guest only, nothing more."

The meaningful look they exchanged caused a stir in

Preston's trousers, and he remembered his surprise for Paulo.
Perhaps there was time to share it before he was required to
play host to Tasim's latest protege.

But no. The music stopped abruptly and a shout issued

from the back bedroom. "Boy! Tea, boy, five minutes."

Oh, no. Tasim or no Tasim, surprise or no surprise, this

wouldn't do at all.

Preston wheeled toward the door in time to see a thunder-

faced blond god saunter in tying a green embroidered silk
robe around his trim waist.

"There you are!" the blond—Zaz—was saying before he

registered Preston's presence. "Oh," he said. "You must be
Preston, er, Master Rose. I'm Zaz Truffaut. I gather I wasn't
expected?"

"You were not," Preston confirmed, with one nod toward

Tasim's note for Zaz's benefit and another toward Paulo, who
looked not at all affronted by their unexpected—and

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

unexpectedly vexing—guest. Instead, Paulo was grinning.
Preston smiled back, but he felt it only as a tightening of his
lips. He turned back to Zaz. "You are welcome here if you can
remember that Paulo is not your boy." Paulo had never been
anybody's boy but Preston's. How was it that truth had never
hit him before now?

Zaz waved airily. "You'll forgive the mistake," he said. "He

looks so..." Another wave of his hand took in Paulo's filthy
clothes and smudged face. "I thought he was the help."

"Then Monsieur Kheirallah was remiss in his description of

this household."

That airy wave again, as if Zaz were conducting an

invisible orchestra. "I was supposed to stay with somebody
called Jim, but that fell through at the last minute."

"Jim's gone to see his brother," Paulo piped up. "How

about that tea now, gentlemen?" He bounced over to the sink
and began washing his hands, still grinning.

Preston moved to the stove to retrieve the kettle and

realized he was baffled enough by his and Paulo's disparate
reactions to Zaz that he forgot two things. He hadn't so much
as boiled water since Paulo came to live with him, and sudden
moves jolted Paulo's surprise. Painfully.

"Okay, sir?" Paulo asked, his face mirroring the wince

Preston felt on his own features.

"Yes, Paulo. It's not my hands." He knew they would be

Paulo's first concern. He mouthed "later" to his sub and hoped
Paulo would let it go for long enough to get this Zaz person
squared away.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Zaz evidently hadn't heard them, or wasn't paying

attention. He was humming the same piece he'd been playing
and staring out the patio doors.

Preston drew a breath to ask him how long he'd be

staying, but decided that would give the fellow too much. The
information was bound to be in Tasim's note, after all.
Keeping the upper hand with this gorgeous jerk struck
Preston as important.

"Supper at eight, sir?" Paulo's voice cut into his thoughts.

"And perhaps Mr. Truffaut would like to take tea on the
patio?"

That would give them more than two hours alone.

"Certainly, Paulo," Preston said, deliberately more formal than
usual. "If that suits you, Zaz?"

"I'll take tea in my little cell," he snarked, and then turned

to wander back down the hallway, still humming Ravel. He
didn't further acknowledge either of them, and never had
apologized for his treatment of Paulo.

"Nice... ass," Paulo remarked, as drily as Preston had ever

heard him. Preston suppressed an absurd urge to giggle.

Zaz rubbed Preston the wrong way, big time, and he

wondered why Paulo seemed more amused than bothered. He
caught his sub's eye. "Boy?" he asked, sotto voce.

Paulo winked in response and mouthed, "Poseur!"
Preston nodded back, unconvinced.
Preston picked up his little sack and Tasim's note and

turned toward the hallway. "Bring our guest his tea and meet
me in our bedroom. I have a surprise for you."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Paulo's eyebrows climbed above his bright, dark eyes.

"Shall I just slip one of Vovo's dishes in the oven, sir? Save
time on supper."

"Your grandmother is a saint," Preston replied with feeling.
Within ten minutes, they were alone behind the closed

door of their bedroom. Within eleven minutes, Paulo was
naked and nuzzling Preston's crotch, humming.

"That's not Ravel," Preston said.
Paulo chuckled, which Preston felt as little bursts of heat

through his trousers. "It's 'Summer Nights.' You know, from
Grease?" His hands went to Preston's belt. "Master's buttons
opened at la-ast, Master's hard-on looks at half-ma-ast," he
sang, narrating his actions. "The Chorus' next show starts
next week. Broadway Does Hollywood." He went back to
snuffling Preston's groin.

Preston hated to stop him.
"Don't you want your surprise?" He twined his fingers with

Paulo's to stop him from fishing Preston's dick out of his loose
cotton boxers. They could discuss their unexpected guest
later.

"But my birthday's not until next month," Paulo said, now

nuzzling the base of Preston's penis through the broadcloth.

"Ow!" Preston said as his cock gave a drunken lurch and

jarred painfully against the placket of his underwear.

"Sir?" Paulo finally leaned back and looked into Preston's

face. "Something hurts?"

"Your surprise," Preston said. "Early birthday present." And

with that he carefully shoved the waistband down to reveal—

"A Prince Albert? Sir! Ohmygod! Sir! You got pierced?"

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Paulo's squeal hurt almost more than the piercing had.

"What do you think?"

Paulo's hands fluttered around the head of his dick,

moving in close and then stuttering back. "I think it's,
ohmygod! You did this for me?"

"For us. I thought it would be... interesting. I wanted to

keep it a secret, but Jim reminded me that you can't keep
your hands off me, and after last month, I didn't want to keep
anything from you." Preston didn't have to refer to their
recent failures to communicate about Paulo's worries for their
partnership. Nor did he have to say that the PA was part of an
effort to creatively top Paulo without the use of his unreliable,
aching hands. Understanding was there in Paulo's eyes as he
looked from Preston to the steel dolphin barbell breaching his
piss slit and anchored in his frenulum.

"Thank you, sir. I can honestly say this day has been full

of surprises. When can we play with it?" He licked his full,
dark-pink lips and eyed the jewelry.

"Not for about a month. By your birthday, it should be

healed enough for pretty much anything."

Paulo looked dismayed. "A month? I'll never make it, sir.

It's so... insanely hot."

Preston crinkled the bag he'd been carrying. "You can help

me with the aftercare," he offered.

Paulo batted eyelashes and flashed dimples at his master.

"Aftercare is your job, sir. And if you can't come for a few
weeks, I won't either."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

It was Preston's turn to snort. "You're hardly built for

chastity, boy." He ran his hand firmly over Paulo's softly
furled hair and pressed the bag into Paulo's hand.

Paulo peeked inside. "Lavender oil?" he asked, tipping the

squat brown glass bottle out and holding it up.

"Promotes healing. Hope it doesn't sting." Preston said.
Paulo's eyes twinkled up at him. "If it does, I'll blow you."
Preston bent and popped Paulo's butt.
"On you, okay? I'll blow on you!"
The moment got hot again the minute Paulo applied a drop

of the golden oil to the top bead of the curved barbell. He
gently slid the jewelry back and forth to spread the oil inside
the piercing. It didn't sting, but Preston was still panting by
the time Paulo stopped. Getting hard with the new piercing
was attention-grabbing... for both of them, it appeared.

"You're going to regret that chastity pledge, boy. Just look

at you."

The head of Paulo's dick was almost as furiously red as

Preston's. "Are you ordering me to get off, sir?" Paulo teased.

Preston loved watching Paulo bring himself off, but the

jesting pledge not to come until Preston was healed lit some
dark desire inside him. "No, boy. I like the idea of working on
your control for a few weeks."

Paulo's breath and cock hitched in tandem. "Yes, sir."
Just then, strains of something almost jazzy reached them

from the back bedroom. Preston had all but forgotten Zaz in
the last few minutes. He sighed. Yes, indeed. Between Zaz
shaking them up and the new PA shutting them down,
Preston figured these would be an interesting few weeks.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Why had he ever thought chastity would be a good idea?

Paulo stood under the warm spray of the old showerhead and
glared balefully at his rough and ready erection.

Preston hadn't actually forbidden orgasms, but Paulo knew

even as his hand inched toward his prick that their discussion
had ended with an understanding of compliance on his part.
Preston had promised the experiment would be fun.

Paulo dragged his hand back up his belly and messed with

his nipples for a few seconds before reaching to turn off the
water and step out of the tub-surround. Preston's idea of fun
was bound to be... challenging.

His cock was still chubbed—but thankfully loose enough to

dress left—when he rounded the corner into the kitchen.
There sat the stunning Zaz in his embroidered dressing gown,
sipping the last of the coffee. Paulo girded himself to play
nice. Supper the night before hadn't been too bad, but this
kid was all over the map, and Paulo couldn't get a bead on his
real personality. That bothered him.

"Ah, there you are," Zaz said. "No coveralls this morning?"

Everything he said dripped derision.

"Good morning to you, too." See? Playing nice was in his

repertoire. And Paulo was proud of the work he did. He was.
"I have chorus rehearsal Saturday mornings. No coveralls
allowed."

Zaz smirked. "Monsieur Kheirallah mentioned you did

some community arts thing."

Okay, this dude clearly wanted to rattle him, though Paulo

couldn't figure out why. Still, this cat needed schooling.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

While he started another pot of coffee, Paulo recited, "The

Sister City Gay Men's Chorus is the oldest in the region, well
respected, tours regularly. It may not be the Symphony, but
a lot of our members sing with the Chorale as well." Take
that.

"But not you?"
"I never wanted a music career." That wasn't entirely true,

but nevertheless, Paulo was happy the way things were. Time
for big guns. "I heard you washed out of the Capital
Philharmonic. Stepped down to Sister City, did you?" Preston
had let Paulo read Tasim's note. Evidently Zaz had some
issues to work through, professionally speaking.

The man in question waved his long-fingered hand

dismissively, but Paulo noticed he wouldn't meet Paulo's eyes.
"Water under the bridge," he said.

Yeah, a burning bridge, Paulo thought. Paulo hadn't rattled

him, but the kid looked pensive enough for Paulo to offer an
olive branch. "Well, good luck with your auditions here."

Zaz stood, sashayed across the room, letting his gown fall

open around an expanse of pale gold skin, and passed his
mug to Paulo for a refill. "Maybe you'd be willing to help me
prepare?"

Not expecting that, Paulo burned his mouth on a too-large

gulp of joe. Was he supposed to be flattered? "I'd be happy to
listen to you practice," he offered. "Though you know I'm not
classically trained."

Zaz's green eyes drifted downward, his gaze bouncing off

Paulo's thickened prick and back up to meet Paulo's. "I had
something more... personal in mind."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Wha—? "Yeah, I know I said I'm buddies with some of the

Symphony guys, but not anyone with an inside track. I don't
think a word from me can really help you—"

A tapered, perfectly manicured finger pressed firmly into

his sternum. "You are thick, aren't you?" Double entendre
definitely intended.

Paulo backed away from the finger as it started tracing the

placket of his shirt. "Not as thick as you, evidently. You know
Preston and I are together. You're an idiot if you think I'd
even look at you like that."

"But you're swingers. Just look at you. Your little head is

definitely thinking about me. And you can't tell me that
fossilized sugar daddy of yours objects. How else could he
hang onto a dark and delicious treat like you?"

Paulo laughed out loud. There was so much wrong in Zaz's

little speech he didn't know where to start.

Just then, Preston entered the kitchen with his coffee mug,

probably searching for a refill before he got back to work on
some contract writing for the local university. "Something
funny?"

Paulo tried to get himself under control, which was easier

to do once he saw Zaz smirking into his coffee. In his
brightest sweet-young-thing voice he trilled, "Oh, Daddy, you
know how it is, two musicians talking shop. Well, I'm off." He
made his goodbye kiss to Preston as visually convincing as he
could for Zaz's benefit while giving Preston the full benefit of
the tumescence in his chinos.

Round one, Soares. He left, singing on his way to the car.

"Orchestra drop-out, No premier stage debut for you,

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Orchestra drop-out, Conductor screwed and then sacked
you..."

***
Whatever that was about, Preston didn't have time to

figure it out. Paulo could handle it and, anyway, he had a
deadline. That was the main problem with freelance work:
clients expected your work on their timetables and the dean
he was writing for this time wanted to bring this proposal to a
funding committee meeting Monday morning.

He gave Zaz a cool smile as he refilled his coffee cup. He

was still pouring when the little brat whirled and traipsed back
to his room, dressing gown fluttering around his bare legs.
Preston decided that once his draft was complete, he'd give
Tasim a call. This guy wasn't his friend's usual type, and
Preston was curious about the details.

He went back to work, the sounds of the undoubtedly nude

Zaz practicing pleasant in the background, even when he
went over and over tricky passages until they were perfect
every time.

The ache in his prick where the piercing was had dulled to

the point that he could ignore it, and that's what he did for
the next few hours of teasing sense from the self-referential
and sometimes contradictory notes the dean had given him
for a new program proposal.

It was past lunchtime when he felt two strong hands land

on his shoulders. His cock throbbed familiarly, the way it
always did in response to Paulo's touch. Only... Paulo wasn't
due back until suppertime.

The music had stopped.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Zaz?"
The hands dug in, massaging.
"What do you think you're doing?" Preston spun his desk

chair, breaking contact, and stood, fixing Zaz with his best
top-Dom glare.

Zaz hadn't bothered with the dressing gown this time.
"Thought you'd like a little... service, sir." Zaz went to his

knees and angled his hard cock in Preston's direction. His
hesitant tone betrayed not insecurity, or even ignorance of
typical boy-sir form, but derision.

"What are you playing at, Zaz?" This topping from the

bottom was not going to fly with Tasim.

The green eyes narrowed. "Just offering a little something

in return for you playing host," he said.

On the off chance his gut instinct was wrong about this

kid, Preston ground out, "It's not necessary. Now if you don't
mind..." He stopped short of making a shooing motion with
his hand, but only because his mama raised him right.

Far from standing and leaving, Zaz scooted closer,

widening his knees and leaning back on his hands. He was a
pretty picture, all right, all lean muscle and gold-toned skin.

"You sure, sir?" he purred. "You can't convince me

you're... satisfied... with that little slice of dark meat."

Could he really be talking about Paulo? Preston drew in a

deep, centering breath. This kid was clearly talented, or he
wouldn't have landed the Symphony audition. And Tasim
must have heard something to persuade him to give the kid a
try—Tasim was nothing if not thorough in his vetting process
for new proteges. But to Preston's eyes, Zaz was a poser of

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

the worst sort, who clearly thought the opportunity with
Tasim was nothing more than that: an opportunity for
professional advancement.

"Can I convince you Monsieur Kheirallah will take a very

dim view of your behavior?"

That did it. Zaz's face closed up and he stood in a smooth

wave. "You mean you're monogamous?" He said it the same
way Paulo's vovo described hornworms on her tomato plants.
"You're turning down this?" Zaz ran his hands over his body
from shoulders to hips, ending by framing his impressive cock
with his fingers. "I thought you kinky types fucked like
rabbits, but you and your houseboy don't seem to do more
than kiss like old married straights." If a naked man could be
said to flounce, Zaz flounced out of the room, slamming the
door behind him.

Preston shook off the wisps of anger that still tickled him.

Recalling Paulo's 'poseur' comment from the night before,
Preston realized what Paulo had been grinning about last
night and camping about this morning. Zaz was a spoiled
brat, an opportunist, and an idiot. He wasn't a threat, except
to himself. Preston smiled broadly to himself. His sub was one
hell of a quick study.

As Preston got back to work, to the strains of some

Paganini concerto or other, he resolved to make Paulo's I-
told-you-so moment one to remember.

"I can't even remember my own name when you do that!"

Paulo was panting and sweating under the most delicious
assault ever.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Preston's lips hugged the crown of Paulo's prick and

Preston's tongue lapped very gently in a maddeningly regular
rhythm over his slit, sucking up the drops of come that issued
forth in weak pulses. Preston's left fingers loosely wrapped
the base of Paulo's dick, holding it steady, and his thumb was
curled under Paulo's balls so they were snug against Preston's
fingertips. It was not a combination designed to get anyone
off.

But Paulo was getting off. He was just getting off very,

very slowly. Preston's other hand was occupied with Paulo's
ass. Two fingers deep inside stroked Paulo's gland to the
same wickedly slow beat as the suction around his cock head.
Once every few strokes, Preston's free fingers curled to tug
gently at Paulo's guiche ring.

Paulo's orgasm had rushed up to meet the very first touch

of Preston's lips to his penis, but Preston, it turned out, was
skilled at backing him off the edge. He'd held Paulo's climax
hostage for hours now. Well, maybe not hours, but Paulo
could scarcely remember a time when he hadn't been pulsing
out barely-there streams of fluid into his master's waiting
mouth. The sweet massage and sweeter suction went on
endlessly, until Paulo was sure his balls were not only dry, but
turning inside out.

"You sure that wasn't a real orgasm, sir? This chastity

thing gets my vote," Paulo conceded as soon as his breath
approached normal. "I've been half-hard all day, knowing I
couldn't come, thinking about my birthday present. He batted
his eyes at Preston. "Lemme see it?"

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Preston had kept all of his clothes on while he milked Paulo

dry. It didn't matter that they were his usual at-home uniform
of Carhartts and a white T-shirt, and not something kinkier,
like a lab coat or scrubs—it had been hot as hell for Paulo to
get naked and spread for "treatment."

Preston faked a put-upon sigh and unzipped, gently easing

his newly-pierced prick out of his boxers.

"Yum," Paulo said, and rolled up on one elbow to see it

better. "You're hard. Does it hurt?"

"A little. Getting an erection feels a little weird."
"Doesn't look weird." It didn't. It looked fine. Fierce. And a

touch obscene. "I wanna kiss it."

Preston laughed and covered himself with his hands, still

playing. "You'll have to settle for the lavender oil, Nurse
Soares."

"Can't wait to suck you off with it. It'll be my first PA."
Preston chuckled. "Mine, too," he said. "Ready to face

supper with the Disrobed Diva?"

Paulo, busy with the lavender oil, fascinated by the slide of

the dolphin through Preston's still-red flesh, didn't process his
master's words right away. When he did, he grimaced. "He
came on to me this morning."

Preston surprised him by chuckling. "He came on to me

this afternoon."

"Little prick."
"I don't know what everyone sees in him," Preston said. It

was unlike him to be so imprecise as to use a word like
'everyone,' but Paulo knew what he meant.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

He shrugged, still focused on cleansing and treating

Preston's wound. "He plays like the love child of Fritz Kreisler
and Stephane Grappelli and he looks like a Dieu du Stade.
Who wouldn't be interested in that?"

"I wouldn't." Preston's voice was serious as taxes.
Paulo grinned and launched himself for a kiss. "Me,

neither. I'm hopelessly devoted to you," he sang as they
connected. The kisses went on for a while, until Paulo's dick
took an interest and he decided he'd rather not go through
supper with Zaz while sporting wood. "Let me see what I can
rustle up. Vovo and I picked up some nice linguica today."
Saturdays after rehearsals, if Preston was working, Paulo took
his grandmother shopping. They visited a different shop for
each ingredient, down to the docks for fish, out to the country
for fresh eggs or whatever was in season. He loved it. Today
had been a good day.

"You amaze me," Preston said, and then surprised Paulo

again by preventing his slide off the bed.

Paulo, to his chagrin, felt himself heat with a blush. "Why,

sir," he said, covering with humor, "the things you say. It's
only sausage."

Preston burst out laughing and, after a confused few

beats, Paulo joined him. It was hard not to respond to his
master in such a joyful mood.

"I meant about Zaz. You read him like a book and closed

the cover before I even read the jacket blurb."

"Little Mister True-Faux?" He paused between the syllables

so Preston would know he was playing on words. "He's
nothing new," Paulo said. "Except for the naked fiddling." He

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

tasted his master's laugh one more time and headed for the
kitchen. His sir was being very... un-sir-like, with Zaz around.
Or maybe it was the PA-imposed chastity, if you could call
this afternoon's activities chaste. Whatever it was, it felt more
like having a boyfriend than a Dom. Paulo liked it fine, but he
would have been worried if he thought for a second that
Preston's master-self wasn't just below the fuck-buddy
surface.

Now Paulo just had to be patient enough to get Preston's

master-self under his own surface.

Paulo and Zaz were arguing. There had been no more

come-ons since that first day. Zaz had been called back after
his audition with the Symphony, a good sign that he had
landed that position. Zaz had only just returned from Tasim's
place, so there was no word from Tasim on how the violinist
had performed at his other audition.

Paulo and Zaz sparred about music almost daily, but

between Paulo's sunny nature and Zaz's fundamental
indifference, good sportsmanship had prevailed, for the most
part.

This argument had an edge to it. Paulo sounded genuinely

angry.

"It's not a robe you whip on and off for practicing," he was

saying as Preston entered the kitchen. Paulo was
incongruously dressed in an old-fashioned a-shirt and
gingham apron. The smell of the ocean overlaid with onion
and dill and mustard seed assailed him. Clam chowder.
Preston smiled. Paulo thought chowder ran in Preston's veins
just because his people had lived in Sister City for

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

generations. Therefore, Paulo cooked chowder—clam, corn,
fish, depending on what was fresh—as comfort food for
Preston.

Why did Paulo think Preston needed comfort food?
"It's like anything else in the arts," Zaz threw back. "A

performance. And I want to do better. I thought you'd be
eager to teach me." There was a pout in his voice as he
paused to sip the new season's vinho verde.

Was the little shit making another play for Paulo? Preston

strode forward.

"Paulo"—somehow he remained reluctant to address Paulo

as 'boy' in Zaz's presence—"Care to explain?"

"You tell him," Paulo said to Zaz.
Zaz shot a mutinous glare towards Paulo, who stared back

from where he stood with a wicked-looking shucking knife
and a pile of littlenecks.

"I might have, um, exaggerated my experience with

BDSM," Zaz admitted slowly.

"You lied!" Paulo snapped as he drove the knife between

the halves of another clam. "He's not even a club-sub!"

Preston wasn't sure what to say. Paulo's fury surprised

him, though he felt an empathetic twinge on behalf of Tasim.
His friend had been searching for a new sub ever since Jesse
had left. But why would Paulo feel the need to protect Tasim?
Surely Tasim would see through any deception Zaz might
perpetrate?

"I can learn," Zaz countered. "I just need more than books

can teach me, and since you're in the lifestyle..." He trailed
off. "I was asking as a favor to a friend."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Preston bit the inside of his cheek, trying not to laugh.
"Zaz, you can't imagine that what you've brought to this

household is friendship." Could the kid be that stupid? "You're
here as a favor, yes, but to Monsieur Kheirallah, not to you.
We've been more than tolerant of your..."

"Self-promotion!" Paulo supplied from his growing pile of

mutilated bivalves. "Sorry to interrupt, sir."

Preston let it go.
Zaz, finally, was starting to look confused. "I want to

please the Patron," he said, and that sounded sincere enough.
Then he ruined it by adding, "I know I can pull it off, with a
few pointers on what to say, how to act."

Preston opened his mouth to point out that Zaz was asking

Paulo to help him deceive Tasim, but Paulo evidently had
other things in mind.

"You're mocking things you don't understand. This

'lifestyle' as you call it isn't about technique and performance.
It's about being true to your soul." His hand came up to cover
the beads of his collar, as if to protect them.

Paulo really felt that way?
Preston wanted to cross the kitchen and wrap his sub in

his arms, but they'd kept even vanilla affection under wraps
during Zaz's stay.

Paulo was waving the knife. "It's not a game, not for us.

It's who we are, not something we do to impress people or
get ahead." He made an exasperated noise, exactly like the
one his vovo made when confronted with wilted cabbage or
bruised peaches, and then he sang.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Look at me, I'm Zaz Truffaut, Lying, scheming, fiddling

ho. It's in my head to trick Doms into bed. No sub, I'm Zaz
Truffaut!"

Zaz spluttered, and Preston spared a thought to how

utterly Zaz did not resemble the Sandra Dee of the song.
"You make it sound like a bad thing to do whatever I can to
make it. I heard things about how Tasim Kheirallah helped
launch careers. Concert violin is competitive, in case you
didn't know."

Paulo wasn't done with him. "You asking for sub lessons is

like me asking you to show me how to hold a violin and move
a bow so I can pretend to play on stage with you. It wouldn't
be real, it would deceive the audience, and it would
undermine your soul."

Zaz had the grace to look affronted.
"Tasim will see through you, if he hasn't already," Paulo

continued. "Better to bow out now than have him get angry
and use his contacts to blacklist you."

Zaz had gone white. "He can do that?"
Paulo snorted and eviscerated another clam. "You only

wanted to become his protege because you heard what he
can do for an artist's career. Don't you think that cuts both
ways?"

Zaz had started to pace, and for once, the fluttering of his

dressing gown wasn't calculated to titillate, even though he
was showing plenty of skin. "I was top of my class at the
conservatory, but getting a break isn't as easy as it should
be. My reputation..." It was like he was talking to himself,
getting more worked up with every step.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Preston actually felt for the kid. Tasim did not take kindly

to betrayal of any kind. He caught Paulo's eye and gave him a
'let me handle this' look. With a smile, Paulo lowered his eyes
and started chopping dill for the soup, the perfect sub. Warm
love flooded Preston's gut and settled low in his belly. There
would be rewards later. Naughty, naked torments. And no
orgasms. It would be wicked. But first, he had to straighten
out a confused, self-centered diva.

"Zaz, listen."
Zaz stopped pacing and turned to Preston, his shoulders

slumped, his face pinched with fear.

"It's clear you can't become Tasim's—Monsieur

Kheirallah's—protege. Paulo's right, and I know Tasim. Lies
are the one thing he has no tolerance for."

"I can't simply withdraw from consideration," Zaz argued,

color climbing his cheeks.

"Nor can you continue to lie. You asked Paulo for advice.

Will you take some from me?"

Wary eyes and a reluctant shrug answered him.
"Then come over here. Paulo, you, too."
Paulo tapped his wooden spoon on the side of the big

enamel pot and rested it on a trivet. He was beside Preston in
seconds. Zaz made his way more slowly across the kitchen.

"Here is what you should do when you see Monsieur

Kheirallah next. Paulo, pretend I'm Tasim. Kneel."

Paulo knelt, and despite the steam-sweat on his face and

the green and white gingham apron around his hips, it was as
if in the process of sinking to the floor, he became stripped of
every stitch.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Zaz gasped, and Preston mentally agreed. His boy was

breathtaking.

Paulo folded his hands loosely in the small of his back and

settled his weight over wide-spread knees. "Sir..." he began.

"Patron," Preston corrected gently.
Paulo's dimple winked at him. "Patron..."
Preston looked at Zaz. "Then wait to be acknowledged."
"Yes, reem?" Preston could see Paulo's eyelashes twitch as

he rolled his downcast eyes. Verisimilitude demanded he use
Tasim's special word for his proteges. The ancient boy-loving
Arab poets had sung the praises of many a 'gazelle,' and it
pleased Tasim to emulate them.

"I wish to confess."
Leave it to Paulo to make it sound like church. But come to

think of it, maybe for Paulo, it was, given what he'd said
about submission being a state of the soul.

"You may speak freely."
"I am not submissive, either in temperament or in

practice. I only sought your involvement in my musical
career. I beg forgiveness."

"Do you intend to decline consideration for a position in my

household?"

"Yes, Patron."
"Then you may go."
Preston stroked Paulo's head by way of indicating the

demo was over. Paulo bent low and pressed kisses to the toes
of each of Preston's boots before rolling up with a cheeky
grin.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"See, Zaz? If you can do that, and mean it, you might get

through this with your career—and your honor—intact." The
honor bit was a stretch, given how Zaz had behaved, but
Preston saw no reason not to appeal to higher principles.

Zaz crumpled onto one of the stools that ringed the

kitchen island. He rested his head in his palms, his elbows on
the counter. "How am I going to face anybody after all this?"
His robe was still open and his dick drooped between his
splayed legs. Preston was almost moved to sympathy. He
shouldn't have been surprised when Paulo barked a laugh.

"Don't be stupid," Paulo said as he whisked milk into the

chowder. "It's not like Tasim's patronage is common
knowledge outside D/s circles. And anyway, Zaz, it seems to
me it's past time you learned you can't run away from every
hard thing. Time to be a man."

After a moment during which the only sound was the thick

burbling from the chowder pot, Zaz raised his head and
nodded mutely.

And that, Preston reflected as his frilly-aproned sub stirred

the soup, was that.

Tasim was Preston's date for the Broadway Does

Hollywood show.

As the lights went down in the small riverside theater

space, Tasim asked, "You received my gift?"

"Fruits of your garden? Always welcome." Preston

deliberately didn't mention the value added his friend had
included—pillow packs of premium lubricant fastened to
bamboo skewers with colorful ribbons.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"A small token of gratitude for hosting Zaz and for helping

me, how you say? Dodge a bullet?"

Preston smiled. It amused his friend to pretend his

command of English vernacular was anything less than
perfect.

"How did he slip through your net, anyway? He wasn't

your usual at all."

Tasim shifted in his seat. If Preston didn't know him better,

he'd have sworn Tasim was embarrassed.

"That's the thing, you see. After Jesse's contract ended, I

decided I needed something different. I recruited through a
friend of a friend."

Preston patted his friend's arm where it rested between

them. Tasim suffered his hand to be held, like when they
were boys together.

After a moment, Preston said, "I hear from Paulo that Zaz

decided not to take the Sister City Symphony position."

Tasim gave one of his enigmatic little smiles, the ones that

worked wonders on subs, but just made Preston chuckle.
"Like a miracle, a very big orchestra in Canada was looking
for a violinist."

"And you just happened to know the conductor?"
Tasim shrugged and spread his hands. "And the

concertmaster and the chair of the board of directors."

"So you used your influence?"
"I come by it honestly," Tasim replied.
Preston settled back to enjoy the show and his friend's

most entertaining company.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

The lights came up on stage and Paulo, in rolled-up

dungarees, elaborately-pomaded hair, and a black leather
jacket, belted the theme from Grease:

"They think our love is just a growing pain
Why don't they understand, It's just a crying shame
Their lips are lying, only real is real
We start to find right now we got to be what we feel..."
For once, Preston reflected as he listened to the Frankie

Valli lyrics, his boy sang it straight.

"Nice to be home," Preston said later.
"Nice to have the place to ourselves again," Paulo agreed.

He was riding the high of a good, enthusiastically-received
performance. Then he remembered he had a bone to pick
with his master. "You've been holding out on me," he
accused.

Preston gave Paulo his 'inscrutable Dom' look and waited.
The look made Paulo feel giddy. Yep, they were home and

alone and could get back to being themselves. Still, he wasn't
going to miss a chance to needle Preston, just a little bit.
"I've been reading," he said.

"A worthy pursuit," Preston teased.
Ooh, looked like Paulo wasn't the only one with a little

bubble in his blood. "About penile piercing aftercare. No rules
against sex. Not after the first couple of weeks, as long as
you're feeling... up to it."

Preston angled a wry glance at the bulge in his dress pants

and seemed to consider. "Truth?"

"Always," Paulo insisted.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"The piercer said no unprotected sex—oral or anal—until

healing is complete. A month or so."

"So we could have sex?"
They sat beside each other on the bed. Preston kept his

eyes downward, like a sub. What was that about?

"Preston?" Paulo prodded.
Eyes still lowered, Preston replied, "It's become...

important to me that we... that everything between us is...
bare."

"So when I joked that we should abstain while you healed,

you had an excuse not to fuck me covered?"

"It's silly, I know," Preston began.
Paulo thought about that. "No, not silly, master. It's...

sweet." He turned and slid off the bed to kneel between
Preston's legs. Dipping his head, he caught Preston's
downcast eyes. "But condoms won't change anything. With
you, it's always bare."

Preston hitched a breathy little laugh. If Paulo didn't know

better, he'd have called it self-deprecating. With a tug, Paulo
pulled Preston to join him on the floor and they wrestled like
river otters until Preston came out on top.

"Do we even have condoms in the house?" Paulo asked.
"Bet Zaz left some. Go see?"
Paulo pounded to the back bedroom, rifled through its little

lavette, and hit the jackpot—fancy lambskin sheaths! He shed
his clothes on the way back to the master suite. He stopped
in the kitchen to grab a few pillow packs of lube off the
bamboo skewers decorating the fruit basket Tasim had sent.

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

The man's sense of humor was so... unexpected. Paulo
proceeded to the bedroom singing,

"Well this lube is automatic, systematic, hydromatic
I'm gonna be Greased Lightnin'!"
Preston was nude when he got to the bedroom, standing at

the foot of the bed, his piercing glimmering in the low light.
Paulo approached on his knees. "Please, sir, let me?"

Paulo fumbled with the oblong packets before stopping

himself. "We should oil the piercing site before gloving you
up, don't you think?" He knee-walked over to the bedside
table for the lavender oil.

As he lovingly stroked it onto Preston's prick and wiggled

the curved barbell back and forth to spread it, Preston
chuckled. "The smell gets you off, doesn't it?"

Paulo smiled. "It never did before."
"I wonder if they make lavender scented lube."
"Don't tease, sir." And Paulo went back to his

ministrations, carefully easing the condom over Preston's
jewelry—it took four fingers and some giggling—before
indulging in a lick or two over Preston's knob.

"Cheeky," Preston rasped.
"Not as cheeky as those lube lollipops in our fruit basket.

Fuck me?" Paulo pleaded.

"Having Zaz here got you into bad habits, I see. Topping

from below?"

Paulo grinned. "Wouldn't dream of it, sir. Anyway, you top

from the inside. Even without the kinky decoration."

"Quiet, boy. This is going to take some concentration."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Paulo wanted to beg Preston to hurry, to remind him that

after two weeks of nothing but cuddling and the occasional
milking, he was ready to go off like a rocket just from the
sight of Preston's erection and the smell of the oil, but he did
as he was bid.

Preston efficiently arranged Paulo on his hands and knees

and, without ceremony, popped a pillow of lube and stroked it
inside with one finger. Paulo wondered how tight he would be
after two weeks.

Pretty tight, if Preston's appreciative murmur was anything

to go by.

"You're going to feel this, boy."
Preston rubbed the head of his prick over Paulo's furled

hole and, yes, he did feel it. His own cock started leaking onto
the soft Turkish throw rug. His clever master even used the
beaded end of the dolphin to tug on Paulo's recently-
neglected guiche piercing. Paulo had to hold his breath to
keep from begging for more.

After a tiny, torturous interval, Preston led with the top

bead and all Paulo felt there was the blunt head of his
master's cock, like always. Perfect stretch, delicious burn.
Then...

"Oh! Sir!" There was the second bead, pressing sharply

against the tight muscle of Paulo's ring, even through the
latex.

"Told you," Preston growled, but Paulo could hear the

chortle in his voice. "Now let's see what this little bauble can
do."

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Paulo couldn't see anything but the sparkles behind his

eyes as the bottom bead skated over his prostate. He must
have made a noise, because Preston started to croon filthy
things as he concentrated all of his considerable skill on
driving that little bead back and forth, back and forth over
Paulo's sweet spot.

Paulo's balls tightened and he had to speak again. "Please,

sir! Close!"

One of Preston's hands closed around the base of Paulo's

dick, squeezing off his orgasm. Was that wailing Paulo's
voice? It must have been, because Preston was laughing.
Joyful, unbridled laughter. Paulo would have joined Preston,
but he was panting so heavily.

"With me, boy," Preston directed as his rhythm started to

deteriorate. The insane pressure on Paulo's gland eased as
Preston drove deeper, bottoming out on every ragged stroke.
"Now!"

Finally, the hand choking Paulo's dick opened and, without

another touch, he was shooting right onto the kilim.

When Preston finally withdrew, he used two fingers to

press Paulo's hole open around the PA as he guided it out.
The pressure and the bumpy retreat coaxed a couple more
dribbling spurts from Paulo's spent dick.

They maneuvered themselves up onto the bed and lay on

top of the covers, drifting.

"Happy birthday, boy," Preston murmured into Paulo's

hair.

"But, sir," Paulo said, "my birthday's not for another two

weeks!"

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

"Fishing for another present? I'll just have to use my

imagination then, won't I?" Preston squeezed him and Paulo
wriggled free to get them covered up. He couldn't wait.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa

Contributors' Bios

Lee Benoit
Before dawn and after dark, Lee Benoit is a writer of gay

fiction, some contemporary, some speculative, some
historical. During the daylight hours Lee is a professor of
sociology, and round the clock a two-spirit, single-by-choice
parent of two.

www.leebenoittales.com/
Heidi Champa
Heidi Champa's work appears in over 10 anthologies

including Tasting Him, Like Magnets We Attract and College
Boys. She has also steamed up the pages of Bust Magazine. If
you prefer your erotica in electronic form, she can be found at
Clean Sheets, Ravenous Romance, Oysters and Chocolate and
The Erotic Woman. Find her online at
heidichampa.blogspot.com.

Mike Shade
Sunshine and light breezes, the scent of sea-drenched

skin, dewed-grass under foot. Cowboy hats, tuxedos, painted
on jeans. Blue eyes, grey eyes, green eyes, crinkled at the
edges eyes. Snow, rain, wind. Love in the morning. Love in
the afternoon. Love in the evening. The sole of a man's foot,
a working man's hands, a strong back, the curve of an ass.
These are a few of Mike's favorite things. Want to know
more? Read Mike's books, most days his characters feel more
real to him than he does. www.dustandviolets.com/

Toy Box: Prince Albert

by Heidi Champa