The King’s Justice

By Wayne Mansfield

Published by

JMS Books LLC

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jms-books.com

for more information.

Copyright 2012

Wayne Mansfield

ISBN 9781611523256

Cover Photo Credit:

vladgavriloff

Used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.
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substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which
may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and

incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination
and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to
actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to
actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Published in the United States of America.

* * * *

1

The King’s Justice

By Wayne Mansfield

Pan awoke, squinting against the brightness of the room.

All at once, he noticed how dry his mouth was, the dull thud
beating a constant tattoo somewhere inside his skull and the
sensation of nausea churning in his gut.

“Close the curtains,” barked a voice he recognised as his

beloved Seronisis’. “Incompetent fool!”

His lips transformed into a weak smile as his eyelids

closed against the glare of mid-afternoon light.

“How are you, my darling?”
Pan felt the king’s lips upon his forehead, then upon his lips.
“I have a surprise for you,” said the king. “A very special

surprise. Look who’s here. Look who has come all this way to
see you.”

With a great effort, Pan opened his eyes and then slowly

turned his head in the direction the king was looking.

“Mother,” he said, his voice no more than a croak.
“Get the boy some water,” snapped the king, and Pan

heard someone rush to the other side of his bed.

His mother, Margette, leaned over the bed, tears filling her

eyes before spilling down her cheeks.

“My boy,” she sobbed, shaking her head. “I cannot believe

such a thing happened. We were all so worried.”

The king handed Pan a cup of water, which he did his

best to swallow, although a good deal of it trickled down his chin
and onto his chest.

Margette began stroking Pan’s head.
“You scared us. By the gods, how you scared us. You see

how we hurried to be here, by your side. Your sisters…” She
turned and Pan realised Lette and Freya, his two younger sisters,
had been sitting there the whole time. “…begged me to let them
come. They wanted to see for themselves that you were alright.”

Lette and Freya nodded.
“We are so happy to see you awake and feeling better,”

2

said Lette, the middle sister.

“I made this for you,” said Freya, the youngest of the four

children.

Margette took the knitted cap and passed it to Pan.
“Thank you, Freya. It’s wonderful, probably the most

wonderful cap I’ve ever seen.”

Freya’s smile turned into a grin as she looked from Pan to

Lette and back to Pan.

“Where’s father?” asked Pan. He coughed, a weak burst

of sound that made him feel as though he wanted to vomit. He
paused a moment as his mother looked on with lines of worry
adorning the corners of her eyes. “And Karin?”

The king lifted the cup of water to Pan’s lips and he drank

the cooling liquid thirstily.

“Karin stayed behind to look after your father,” explained

Margette. “He needs someone to come home to, to cook his
meals. She wanted to come and visit you, but she is old enough
now to learn adult responsibilities.”

Pan nodded but felt his eyelids growing heavier and heavier.
“I think we should leave him,” said the king. “He needs

sleep. That’s right, isn’t it? All he needs is a bit more sleep?”

He turned to the royal physician, the very one who had

first examined Pan upon his arrival at the palace.

“That is correct, your Majesty. He needs plenty of water,

to flush out his body, and rest, to build up his energy.”

“Get better soon,” he heard his mother say, before he felt

the softness of her lips on his cheek. He heard his sisters bid him
good-bye and finally the king’s voice before he found himself
drifting towards the realm of dreams.

Early the following morning Pan awoke, the sole occupant

of his room. Immediately he filled his cup with water, drank the
whole lot down in one breath, and then slid off the bed to go in
search of a toilet. At first his feet felt as if they had forgotten their
purpose in the two days he had been bedridden. He staggered at
a clumsy pace across the floor to the wall, which he used to
support himself as he made his way to the door. His hand turned
the handle and by the time he had opened the door, his legs

3

were beginning to remember their function.

He’d taken no more than three steps along the corridor

when he heard his mother cry out.

“Pan! What are you doing out of bed?”
He turned.
“Mother, I’m alright. I had a nice long sleep and I feel fine.”

Margette threw her arms around her son. “I’m starving, though.”

Margette stood to one side, her arm around Pan’s waist.
“You get back to bed and I will go and get some breakfast

for you.”

“I’ll go back to bed. I promise,” said Pan. “But I really have

to go to the toilet.”

Margette released her son. “Well, go. Hurry. Don’t stand

around talking. I will get you some breakfast and bring it back for
you. Now go. Quickly.”

Pan relieved himself and returned to bed, just in time. No

sooner had he climbed beneath the blanket than King Seronisis
and his mother appeared with a tall, muscled servant in tow
carrying a tray laden with fruit and dates, cold meats and boiled
eggs. Hurrying behind the small procession, eager not to be left
behind, were Lette and Freya.

Pan’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw

the mobile feast.

“I hope you’re all going to help me eat this,” he exclaimed.
Margette shook her head. “You need your strength.”
“I’m going to need all the strength I have just make a start

on this lot,” said Pan.

Pan tried a little of everything, starting with some

watermelon, since his mouth remained dry no matter how much
water he drank. He then stuffed morsels of chicken and ham into
his mouth, followed by some figs and dates.

The whole time his mother looked on smiling, and nodding

every now and again as though she were pleased with his
progress.

“So how long are you staying for?” asked Pan.
“We leave today,” said Margette. “I promised your father

your sisters and I would return as soon as I knew you were all

4

right, and no one who eats like you are eating now has anything
wrong with them. I am satisfied.”

Pan drank some fruit juice then gestured for the naked

manservant to take the tray away.

“I’ll miss you, Mother,” he said. “But I’ll be all right. You

have seen for yourself how the king takes care of me.”

“I wish you could come home with your sisters and me,”

said Margette, her eyes glistening with tears.

Pan opened his mouth to speak.
Margette held up her hand and shook her head once. “I

know,” she said. “I know your life is here now, and what an
honour it is. For all of us. But you are still my boy and a mother
cannot stop thinking of her children as children even when they
are men.”

Pan leaned towards his mother and for a moment they

embraced. His mother’s arms around him did feel good, even
though he’d never admit it. Although there was no hiding the fact,
his eyes were teary when their embrace broke.

He saw his mother notice them and she smiled so her

whole face radiated love.

“Now we will go,” she said, patting the back of Pan’s hand.
“I’ll come with you,” Pan replied, slipping his legs over the

side of the bed.

“No, no. We have said our good byes. You must get better.”
A determined look came over Pan’s face. “Mother,” he

said taking an authoritative tone, “I am coming to see you off. I’m
fine, a little weak, but otherwise fine.”

Margette nodded and allowed her son to escort her and

his sisters to the cart waiting for them at the front of the palace.
Seronisis, uncharacteristically, followed behind.

There were streams of tears as Pan helped his mother

onto the cart. Even Seronisis let a couple slip.

“Come and visit us,” Margette called as the horse-drawn

cart rattled down the cobblestones towards the inner gate. “Your
father would love to see you.”

“I will,” Pan called back amidst a chorus of good-byes and

take cares from his sisters.

5

Pan watched the gates open, the cart with his mother and

sisters disappear through it, and the gates close once again.
King Seronisis placed a comforting arm around Pan and
escorted him into the palace.

“Now I have you to myself,” he said. He kissed Pan on the

forehead.

“It’ll be so nice to feel your body next to mine tonight. I

hate that uncomfortable hospital bed.”

The king laughed. “At least you’re better now.”
They walked through the entrance hall and turned down a

passage leading to the king’s private office.

“Pan, there is still the matter of your attacker,” said

Seronisis, referring to the person who had poisoned Pan at the
harem party.

They sat down on one of the many over-stuffed leather

sofas.

“I’d rather just forget about it,” said Pan. “I’m okay now. I

even got to see my mother and sisters.”

But the king would have none of it. He shook his head and

the shadow of a frown appeared on his forehead. “Absolutely
not!” The king’s tone set Pan’s heart racing. “We have a killer in
our midst and I will not rest until he is brought to justice. I do
everything for the people who dwell within these walls and this is
how they repay my kindness? I will not have it.”

Pan nodded. He could not argue. The king had a good

point.

“I have called everyone to meet in the Great Hall. I am

determined that this very day I will find the criminal responsible
and end this unfortunate incident.”

“And me?”
“You will be by my side.”
Pan felt a lump form in his throat. While he could

understand the king’s wish for justice, as far as he was
concerned, he just wanted to put the whole thing in the past. He
smiled weakly and the king pressed his lips against that smile.

“I have missed you,” he whispered.
With those words in his ears and the king’s lips still upon

6

his, Pan felt his cock harden, a sure sign he had made a full
recovery. He wrapped his arms around the king’s shoulders and
pulled the king down onto the sofa beside him. As they kissed,
he felt the king’s hand slip down his semi naked torso to the
loincloth he had worn for his mother’s sake. The king fumbled at
the folds of fabric until they fell free, releasing his erection. When
he felt the king’s fingers close around his stiff cock, he let a small
sigh escape his lips.

Despite the fact they had a hall full of people waiting for

their arrival, their kisses grew hungrier. Only for the briefest
moment did they stop; just long enough for the king to remove his
robe. Then he lowered himself onto Pan and their kisses continued.

“I want to be inside you,” said the king.
And rather than reply, Pan spread his legs wide. In the

blink of an eye the king had his face between them, lapping at
Pan’s arsehole with his tongue. Pan reached down and pulled
his arse cheeks farther apart, giving his royal lover freer access
to his tight pucker.

When the king began stabbing at his arsehole with the tip

of a firm tongue, Pan reached across and pulled the king’s head
closer towards him. He felt the king’s tongue penetrate him, just
a short way, though enough for him to produce a long moan. He
began to writhe against the king’s face, gyrating his hips hard up
against the stiff tongue that licked and poked at his most private
part. His heart was racing and his breathing was coming in short,
irregular bursts.

“Fuck me,” he said. “I’ve missed your cock and I need it.”
The king took one last great lick which took his tongue

from the base of Pan’s arsehole across his perineum and up
over his full balls. He wiped some of Pan’s pre-cum from where it
had been pooling in Pan’s navel and smeared it on the head of
his cock. He then took some of his own pre-ooze, wiped it over
Pan’s already slick arsehole then pushed the head of his cock
slowly into Pan.

Pan’s head twisted back on the soft leather, bringing his

chest up higher. In a moment his fingers had found his nipples
and as the king’s thick cock penetrated ever deeper, he began

7

twisting the sensitive nubs of flesh.

From behind them there was a knock at the door.
“Go away,” barked the king.
Their lips found each other again; their tongues slipping

over each other and their mouths sucking and nibbling at each
other with fiery passion. Pan removed his fingers from his
nipples and reached up enfold the king’s torso in his arms. He
pulled the king down onto him. When their nipples brushed
against each other, Pan’s whole body shuddered. He spread his
legs further and started bucking his hips against the king so that
each of the king’s thrusts went deeper into him.

“I’m going to cum,” said the king. “I can’t help it.”
“Do it,” said Pan, panting. “Do it!”
The king began pounding Pan, who reached down to cup

the king’s meaty butt cheeks in his hands. As the king slammed
his hips down against him, Pan pulled down with his hands and
bucked his hips upwards. The sensitive tissue of his anal
sphincter, already stretched to accommodate the girth of the
king’s cock, felt as though it were on fire.

“Here it comes,” grunted the king.
Pan’s mouth was pressed against the king’s. As the king

shot his load into Pan’s tight arse, Pan swallowed each burst of
the king’s breath. The sharp intakes of breath through the king’s
nostrils were loud in his ears and sent tingles down his spine,
while the sweat from the king’s brow showered him like dozens
of tiny kisses.

As the king’s torso rubbed against his own, he felt his

cock pulsing. But the king was slowing down; perhaps ready to
withdraw after having seeded him. He didn’t want that to happen.
Not yet. His hands were still on the king’s buttocks so he kept the
motion going by continuing to pull the king into him each time
Seronisis withdrew. Not a minute later he felt his abdominal
muscles clenching. His breathing became deeper. He closed his
eyes and as the first jet of cum shot out to coat the king’s sweaty
torso, Pan arched his back and pressed his cock harder against
the muscles of the king’s body.

“That’s it,” said the king. “Spray me with your seed.”

8

A fourth and fifth jet hit the king, whose hairy abdomen

was now thick with Pan’s semen.

“Good boy,” said Seronisis as he lowered his body onto

Pan’s and they shared one final kiss.

“I really don’t want to do this,” said Pan as they were

cleaning each other up.

The king used Pan’s loincloth to wipe his stomach clean

then clapped his hands together twice. The door to the office
opened and a naked manservant, tall, black, and muscular came
in; his huge pendulous cock swinging for a good while after the
man had stopped moving.

“Bring us some fresh robes. And hurry. We’re late.”
The manservant hurried away.
“It won’t be so bad,” said Seronisis, tracing the side of

Pan’s face with the back of his hand. “I imagine it will be
relatively painless. Besides, I want you by my side. You are my
partner and I love you. Every so often there will be unpleasant
tasks we’ll have to perform because of who we are.”

Pan nodded. “I know,” he said, giving the king a little

smile. “I don’t have to like it, though.”

The manservant came hurrying through the door,

surprising Pan with the speed at which he had completed the
task. He bowed his head and held the neatly folded robes out
towards the king.

“Thank you,” said Seronisis. “You may go.”
After dressing, Pan followed King Seronisis to the Great

Hall. Every now and again the king’s light robe would fly up and
Pan would catch sight of a hairy thigh or muscular calf; these
small distractions having the added bonus of taking his mind off
the impending inquisition.

The king strode into the Great Hall with all the bearing of a

royal personage. Immediately those who had gathered bowed.
The king took his place on a small dais at the front of the
assembly and Pan stood a couple of metres to one side. Before
them were the men and boys of the defunct harem, naked and
dirty from their time spent in the palace dungeons, sitting on the
floor. Behind them, sitting in the only chairs that had been

9

provided, were members of the king’s office, of which Pan only
recognised the Grand Chancellor and the royal physician.
Surrounding them at regular intervals were the Hapsid troopers,
the half-man, half-ape guards that had long ago taken Pan from
his family and educated him in the ways of man to man sex.

“We all know why we are here,” the king began. “There is

no need for ceremony. I would simply like the person or persons,
or anyone who knows anything about the attempted murder of
my partner, Pan, to come forward. It will go easier for you if you
do. The longer I have to wait to discover the identity of the
criminal, the worse my punishment shall be. Now…” The king
took a breath. “…if you have the courage to show yourself, to
admit to your crime, please stand.”

A sea of heads began turning this way and that to see who,

if anyone, would respond to the king’s request. All except one. A
handsome man in his late twenties remained facing forwards. Pan
furrowed his brow and glanced at the king, who hadn’t noticed this
single, unmoving head. Pan focused on the face, on the blonde
hair and darker bristles and on the chiselled jaw and smooth,
muscular chest, so that he would remember this man.

“One last chance,” said the king.
By now there were murmurs. Every head swivelled on its

shoulders, thinking surely now the culprit would own up. At least
that’s what Pan supposed. Still, that one pair of eyes remained
focused on the king.

“Very well,” said the king. “The harem boys will be

returned to the dungeon and my staff will be confined to quarters
until I have the name of the culprit. Guards!”

There were loud protestations from the back of the room

as the Hapsid troopers escorted the members of the king’s office
from the hall. The harem boys shuffled out in silence.

Pan’s eyes stayed on the back of the blonde-haired man’s

head until it disappeared through the door. From the corner of
his eye, he noticed King Seronisis step down from the dais and
stride towards the side door.

“What do you think?” asked the king as they left the hall.
Pan looked down at his feet, watching as they kicked

10

against the fabric of his robe with each step he took. “I don’t
know what to think,” he replied. “I can understand why whoever it
was that tried to kill me doesn’t want to come forward in front of
everyone. He might come forward privately, though.”

The king nodded then grinned. “You may be right. By the

gods, I think you just may be right!”

That afternoon the king called for the royal accountant to

be brought to his office.

“I have to know what state the royal coffers are in,”

explained the king. “Would you like to stay? You might learn
something.”

Pan kissed the king and shook his head. “I’ve had enough

sleep over the past few days,” he replied, earning him a playful
smack on the bottom.

When a Hapsid trooper arrived with Thynan, the royal

accountant in tow, Pan bid the king and his accountant good
bye. Yet he wasn’t at a complete loss for something to do. Ever
since the meeting in the Grand Hall he had been waiting for the
moment he could steal away to the dungeons. There was
someone he desperately wanted to talk to.

As the king’s companion, Pan had no trouble gaining

access to the dungeons. He simply knocked on the outer door,
told the trooper who he was and what he wanted and the trooper
admitted him.

“Thank you,” said Pan as the trooper escorted him to the

main cell “You may go. I’ll be fine.”

The bars of the dungeon were made of thick steel and

secured into the granite rock at the base of the palace. It was
dark beyond the bars, since the only light came from torches
lining the walls on the outside of the cells.

Pan’s appearance at the main cell attracted little attention.

Whatever animosity the males of the old harem had borne
towards him had obviously dissipated with time. He scanned the
bodies—some were lying down, some were sitting and two pairs
of bodies were even locked together in fucking. His eyes then fell
upon a head of blonde hair. His heart began to beat a little faster.

“Hey you!” he called.

11

Several faces turned in his direction, including the blonde-

haired man, but it was not the person he was seeking. He moved
on to the next, smaller, cell and immediately laid eyes on the
man he had come to find.

“Hello,” he said.
The blonde-haired man regarded him in silence.
“Can we talk?”
“Seems like you already are,” replied the blonde man.
Pan thought for a moment before speaking.
“I need to talk to you,” he said. “Could we at least do that?”
The blonde man stared at him, his eyes narrowing. “And

why would I want to talk to you? All of this happened because of
you. We wish we’d never laid eyes on you or ever heard the
name Pan.”

The man’s words were spoken with such venom, Pan

realised he had probably wasted his time visiting the dungeons.
However, instead of leaving, hurrying away from the hateful glare
of the men in this second dungeon, he stayed where he stood.

“I understand,” he said. “But you have to know that none

of this is my doing. I was sent for by the king. I did not ask to be
taken from my parents and my sisters. I did not ask for the king’s
attention. I certainly do not want people I hardly know to be
locked up on my account.”

The blonde man’s expression softened.
“I was poisoned,” Pan continued. “Someone tried to kill

me for reasons I had no control over. I might nearly have died
too if the royal physician hadn’t been on hand. Haven’t I been
punished enough for something I did not do?”

The blonde-haired man let his head drop onto his chest

for a moment of reflection before lifting it again and walking over
to the bars.

“I suppose you are right,” he said. “We’ve all been so

caught up in our hatred for you that we didn’t look at the situation
from your side.”

Pan nodded. “Well, I want to put this behind me. I want all

of you to be free. The king is not going to rest until he finds the
person who poisoned me. I think you might be able to help us all.”

12

The blonde-haired man looked Pan in the eye and Pan

could see the man knew something. He could see the minute
twitches, the little pulse at the side of the man’s temple and the
small movements at the man’s mouth.

“What’s your name?” asked Pan.
“Nem,” replied the man.
“Pleased to meet you,” said Pan. “Can you help me?

Help your brothers of the harem?”

Nem looked over his shoulder and took a deep breath.
“I do know the one you are looking for,” he whispered.

“But if I tell you, you must promise never to tell anyone,
especially the king, who told you. Do I have your promise?”

Pan needed no time to give his word. For him the promise

seemed such a small price to pay for an end to the matter once
and for all.

* * * *

Later that very same evening King Seronisis and Pan

were lying in bed, embracing after an hour-long lovemaking
session.

“I’ve missed feeling so close to you,” said Pan. “It was

only a few days, but now I’m with you again, it feels like was a
whole year.”

King Seronisis kissed Pan on the lips.
“I understand. When I feel I have reached the boundary of

my ability to love you, you find new ways to extend those
boundaries even farther.”

Pan smiled. “I think I’m about to extend those boundaries

of yours farther than you could ever imagine.”

The king pulled his head back to better see Pan.
“What is that wicked gleam in your eye?” asked the king.
“I have something for you,” said Pan. “But before I begin I

must ask you not to question me about where I got this special
gift from. I am sworn to secrecy and not even your position as
king or my position as your lover will make me break my
promise.”

13

The king’s smile faded a little.
“Do I have your word about not questioning me?”
The king frowned. “I am not sure I like this,” he said. “But

if it means so much to you then I will give my word.”

Pan nodded. “Very well then. I know who poisoned me.”
The king sat back on his feet and looked down at Pan.
“What!”
“I said I know who tried to poison me. While you were

busy with Thynan, I was busy too.”

“Perhaps I should make you the royal detective then,” said

the king. “How did you find out?”

Pan shuffled his body up the small mountain of pillows so

he was directly facing the king. “I found out by keeping my eyes
open. I noticed someone at the meeting this morning who was
not behaving as the others were. He seemed disinterested in
who, if anyone, raised their hand. I thought to myself that this
could only be the culprit himself, or a person who knew who the
culprit was.”

The king’s eyes were fixed on Pan.
“So while you were in your meeting with Thynan, I paid this

person a visit. It wasn’t easy to draw the information from him, but
I did it. I had to promise not to reveal his identity to you or to
anyone. It’s a promise I have to keep and really the name of the
person who gave me the information is neither here nor there.”

King Seronisis nodded half-heartedly. “I don’t like secrets,

but I shall have to trust you on this one. More importantly, I want
to know who it was. Who tried to poison you, my love?”

* * * *

The hour was late. There was a moon, almost full, high in

the centre of a bejewelled sky. Despite the surrounding village
being in both darkness and silence, the corridors of the palace
were alive with torch light and the sound of Hapsid footsteps.

King Seronisis and Pan dressed and hurried to the Great

Hall in silence. Pan dare not break the silence. The king’s
outburst of anger when he had revealed the identity of the would-

14

be killer had put an end to their conversation.

The king burst into the Great Hall with Pan hurrying a

short distance behind. Once again Pan joined his lover at the
front of the hall while the harem boys and palace staff were
ushered in, bleary-eyed and yawning. Once the assembly had
been settled, the Hapsid troopers took their place at the edges of
the group.

For a long time the king stared into the crowd before

finally speaking.

“Earlier yesterday I gathered you here and asked you a

question. I asked for the person who tried to poison Pan to come
forward. He did not. I also stated that I would take an admission
of guilt into consideration when deciding on a suitable
punishment. However, that time has passed.”

King Seronisis paused. The nervous atmosphere that

filled the room was palpable. Even Pan swallowed hard when the
king stopped speaking.

“Know then, I have the name of the guilty party. Will you

now have the courage to stand up and admit to your crime?”
Nobody moved. “I am looking at you Grand Chancellor!”

There was a collective gasp from the harem boys as they

turned to look at the man sitting in the centre of the back row.

The Grand Chancellor shot to his feet.
“I beg your pardon,” he snapped.
“You may beg no such thing,” snapped the king. “You

have shown yourself to be much less of a man than I thought
you to be. I suppose you felt your position as my most trusted aid
was the perfect disguise for your criminal activity, but as you can
see you supposed incorrectly.”

“You have no proof,” said the Chancellor with an almost

undetectable waver in his voice.

The king smiled the smile of a man who knew he had won.

“That is where you are wrong,” said the king. “I have a sworn oath
from one who saw you put the poison into my lover’s wine.”

And that was no word of a lie, for Nem had sworn to Pan

and Pan had sworn to the king.

“To the boys of the harem, I apologise for your

15

imprisonment,” said the king. “Thynan, my accountant will have
some money for you in the morning and once you have collected
it, you are free to go. To the other members of my staff, I
apologise profusely. I hope you will understand I had no other
choice but to confine you to your rooms lest the killer flee from
my palace and from justice.”

“Grand Chancellor, you are to be escorted to my office by

my sergeant.”

The king nodded in the direction of the sergeant of the

Hapsid troopers, who in turn nodded to the guard nearest him.

“Come, Pan,” said the king before striding from the room.
“What are you thinking?” asked Pan.
“My head is full of thoughts,” replied the king. “I am

annoyed that I do not know who gave you the Grand
Chancellor’s name.” Pan wanted to protest, but a gesture from
the king silenced him. “But as you told me yesterday, I
understand why you can’t, but I am not happy about it. I am also
furious that someone so close to me could betray me so
completely. He will suffer for what he was done to you and for
what he has put me through.”

“Perhaps you shouldn’t decide on his punishment until

you have calmed down,” said Pan. “You might regret any
decision you make now.”

The king shot Pan a look that soon silenced him and Pan

decided it would be safer if he kept his tongue firmly inside his
mouth. At least for the moment.

Once they were behind the closed doors of the king’s

private office, Seronisis waved the second guard away but told
the sergeant he should stay. Pan, who had sat down in a chair in
the shadows, kept silent, lest he be ordered from the room as
well. He may be the king’s lover, but Seronisis was in a rage
such as Pan had never witnessed before.

“What have you to say for yourself?” asked the king as he

sat down behind his desk.

The Grand Chancellor looked a pathetic creature, standing

before the king with his head held high despite his lips being turned
down at the sides and his eyes moist with tears he was obviously

16

struggling to hold back. His mouth had become a thin slice of pale
red and a deep crease had formed between his brows.

The king waited for a reply to his question, before asking it

again. “Why?”

Still the Grand Chancellor remained silent.
King Seronisis rose to his feet and folded his arms.
“You are, or make that ‘were’, my Grand Chancellor,” said

the king. “You were second only to me in this kingdom. I gave you
everything you could ever want – money, position, power. I also
gave you my trust. That is what makes your crime so much more
terrible.” The king, arms still folded, walked around his desk to
where the Grand Chancellor stood. “I will give you one last chance
to speak for yourself. I suggest you take the chance, for it just
might have a bearing on the severity of your punishment.”

It seemed to Pan that not even the king’s understanding

was going to draw a confession from the Grand Chancellor, but
then, just as Seronisis was about to turn and walk out of the
room, the Grand Chancellor broke down.

“I did it for you, your Majesty. I did it because you and I

have been together for such a long time. I was with you before
you ascended the throne, when your father was the monarch. I
remember the times we shared when you had time to share.
Your lips, your cock. I longed for a time when we could share
those things again.”

Tears were streaming down the Grand Chancellor’s face.
Pan sat forward in his chair with eyes wide and heart

pounding, desperately waiting further revelations.

“The boys of the harem I could tolerate. I know they were

only there for your pleasure. Even a king needs a warm body
every now and again, but when he arrived…” The Grand
Chancellor pointed an accusatory finger in Pan’s direction.
“…everything changed. I don’t know why this, this farm boy
should have such a hold on you. How can he know you, love
you, like I can?”

The Grand Chancellor glared in Pan’s direction.
“I hate you,” he snapped. “I wish I had killed you. I am not

sorry for what I did. I am only sorry I didn’t succeed.”

17

The king gestured for the sergeant to take hold of the

Grand Chancellor.

“Sergeant, you are a witness to this confession.” The

sergeant nodded. “Take him to the dungeon and put one of your
men at the door. I don’t want to risk him escaping.”

The sergeant nodded and gripped the Grand Chancellor’s

arm.

“Oh and Arken.” The Grand Chancellor, hearing his name

spoken, turned. “We would never have been lovers. Pan is
young and positive and full of life. All traits you do not possess,
and indeed, never have. He makes me happy every minute of
every day. You made me happy, occasionally, for five minutes
here and there.”

The Grand Chancellor’s head hung heavily. His shoulders

slumped forward. His whole being appeared wilted like a flower
in the heat of the midday sun.

The door to the office was pulled shut, leaving Pan and

the king alone together.

“I feel a little sorry for the man,” said Pan, rising from his

chair.

“Don’t feel sorry for him, Pan.” The king took Pan by the

hand and led him to the nearest sofa. They sat down side by
side, Pan’s hand still within the king’s. “He had a life of privilege.
He was given his high status by my father and I saw fit to
continue with him as my Grand Chancellor.”

“Did you have sex with him? Was he telling the truth?”
Pan knew the answer even as the words fell from his

tongue. Nevertheless, he wanted to hear the king speak them.

Seronisis nodded. “The Grand Chancellor and I spent a

lot of time together when he wasn’t running my father’s affairs.
He’s only eight years older than I am and we had a lot in
common. One day he walked in on me while I was masturbating.
At first I was angry that he hadn’t knocked before entering my
room, but he seemed genuinely apologetic and asked me why I
was pleasuring myself when there was another who could do the
job for me. He took my cock in his mouth and…”

Pan shook his head.

18

“I don’t need to hear the rest.”
King Seronisis laughed. “No, I don’t believe you do.”
“But that’s what’s so sad about what has happened

today,” said Pan. “He has been in love with you all this time, and
you never knew.”

The king kissed Pan lightly on the nose. “I think I did

know. Probably not consciously, but what he revealed to us just
now did not come as a complete surprise.”

“So what are you going to do to him?” Pan asked.
King Seronisis let go of Pan’s hand and stood. He walked

across to the bar and poured himself some Tansan whisky. He
offered Pan a glass, but Pan shook his head.

“No thanks.”
The king strolled past a wall of books and took another sip

of whisky.

“I don’t know, Pan. The fact that I understand his motives

does not negate the fact that he tried to kill you.”

Pan got up from the sofa and joined the king by the books.
“He has obviously suffered a lot already.”
The king wrapped his arm around Pan’s shoulder. “I still

have to punish him. I have to be seen to do the right thing
because he did break the law. It is only fair.” He took another sip
of whisky. “I think I will banish him. It is a harsh punishment, but
at least he will be free to live out the rest of his days.”

Pan smiled. His head had been filled with images of the

Grand Chancellor swinging from a rope around his neck or
rotting away in some damp, dark dungeon. He hadn’t considered
banishment. He hadn’t considered what a difficult job being
monarch sometimes was, either.

“Perfect,” he said. “I guess that is why you are the king. I

would never have thought of banishment.”

The king swallowed the rest of his whisky and set the

glass down on a small table.

“I’ve had a lot of practice,” he said. “But there is still

something I need more practice with.”

Pan was grinning. “Oh yeah, and what’s that?”
“Fucking you.”

19

They both laughed out loud.
“I can promise you that you are already an expert,” said

Pan.

“Well, if that is the case I need to maintain my high levels

of expertise. Now get over there on that sofa.”

“And what if I refuse?”
The king spanked Pan’s arse, which sent him running

towards the sofa.

“I am the king. You can’t refuse.”
In an instant their robes were in a pile on the floor, their

bodies were pressed together as were their hard cocks.

“So, my sexy farm-boy lover, who was it that told you

about the Grand Chancellor?”

Pan smacked the king on the bottom drawing a small yelp

from the king.

“I told you I’m never going to tell you and that’s exactly

what I meant. Now stop asking your questions and start
practicing your fucking.”

The king started laughing.
“You said I didn’t need any practice.”
“Did I?” asked Pan. “Well, maybe you need just a little.”
He could feel the king’s cock head pushing against the

puckered skin of his arsehole, eager to be admitted, so Pan
spread his legs and let the king get on with his practice.

THE END

ABOUT WAYNE MANSFIELD

Wayne Mansfield was born and raised in rural Western

Australia, leaving home to attend university at seventeen.
Although he has been writing for most of his life he only began
getting his work published in 2007. Since then he has been
published many times around the world both in print and e-book
formats.

Initially a writer of gay erotica, he now combines his love

of horror and fantasy to create dark erotic tales that are able to
appeal to readers on more than one level. He also contributes
gay erotica to the German magazines Macho and Dreamboys on
a monthly basis. He currently resides in Perth, Western
Australia. For a detailed list of publishing credits and upcoming
releases, visit his website at

waynemansfieldwrites.weebly.com

.

ABOUT JMS BOOKS LLC

Founded in 2010, JMS Books LLC is owned and operated

by author J.M. Snyder. We publish a variety of genres, including
gay erotic romance, fantasy, young adult, poetry, and nonfiction.
Short stories and novellas are available as e-books and
compiled into single-author print anthologies, while any story
over 30k in length is available in both print and e-book formats.
Visit us at

jms-books.com

for our latest releases and submission

guidelines!