“I see you admiring my boy.” King Dalton had rumbled during dinner, clapping a hand on Kurt’s shoulder as he turned away, cheeks burning. “No, don’t be embarrassed! He’s a beauty don’t you think?”

Kurt had never seen a pleasure slave before. In part because they were forbidden in his father’s kingdom, and as Kurt was first in line to the throne, he followed the law to the letter, and in part due to his general disgust at the idea. Apparently owning another person as a glorified sex toy was an acceptable practice in Dalton’s kingdom, a fact which Kurt found distasteful and didn’t endear the man to him at all.

“He’s very well tamed.” He replied cooly, refusing to meet the old man’s watery blue eyes and instead looking down at the boy kneeling on the floor beside his chair.

“I’ve had him since he was a little thing, that’s how you break them see? Start when they’re young, before they get ideas they’re something better.” He ran a finger down the side of the boy’s face, tipping his chin up and smiling at him in the same fond manner as King Burt did his hunting dogs. “See the bone structure? Best one I’ve had I think. Beautiful.” He turned the boy’s face towards Kurt, light falling on his strong features.

Kurt tried not to stare. He was only the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in his life, and it wasn’t exactly as if Kurt was lacking in gorgeous bed partners. Being the son of a king had its definite upsides. But this boy, with his golden skin and dark curls, surpassed all of the manservants and stable boys and noble’s sons Kurt had ever bedded.

“You know, I’m quite exhausted from the trip, I think it’s time for bed.” Dalton smiled, looking down on the boy at his feet with a smile that Kurt found extremely unpleasant.

“Of course. I’ll have Sam show to your rooms. He can take your boy to the servants quarters.” He said smoothly, motioning to his manservant.

“Nonsense, there’s enough room for us both, I’m sure.” Dalton laughed, as the boy rose smoothly to his feet and helped the king from his chair. He gave Kurt a wobbling bow-difficult over the immense girth of his stomach- and followed Sam from the hall, the slave boy walking behind him, his bare feet silent on the stone floor.

Kurt willed himself not to care.

The following morning, when Kurt arrived at the door to the guest chambers in which King Dalton was staying, and the guards had given him permission to enter, he had almost walked right back out again.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t known the King would be using his pleasure slave during his visit, nor did he harbor any delusion the man would be discrete about it, but he had rather hoped not to get a front row seat to the show.

Dalton was flat on his back, groaning as the boy rode him, his own body stretched as long and taut as the strings of a harpsichord. For a long moment, Kurt had a difficult time focusing on anything but the line of the boys throat as his head tipped back and he let out a low moan of pleasure, the old man below him shouting and groaning and sliding his hands across the youthful expanse of flesh that moved above him. Kurt was certain the King would not have such a body in his bed had he not paid for it well in advance.

He flushed with embarrassment when King Dalton had heard his gasp and immediately looked over, noticed the tightness of his breeches were hiding exactly nothing, and extended an invitation to join them. The boy had didn’t stop moving his hips for a second, even as he too turned to meet Kurt’s wide-eyed stare. There was no shame in it for him, Kurt supposed, that was his lot in life. No sense in feeling embarrassed over it.

“He’s very good with his mouth, if you’d like it?” The old king said, and the boy fixed Kurt with a his hungry gaze and licked his plump red lips like he was being rewarded a particularly delicious meal.

“No thank you. I’ll inform my father you’ll be late for breakfast.” Kurt said firmly, and left the room as quickly as he could while still maintaining a little decorum.

It wasn’t as if he, or indeed his father, could actually forbid King Dalton from using his pleasure slave, he was a king after all, and had the right to do whatever he pleased with his own property. And if he was currently visiting King Burt’s lands in which pleasure slaves were illegal, well, he was afforded immunity from that particular law because King Burt was hoping for a peace treaty between their kingdoms.

So the entire court politely ignored the boy who followed King Dalton silently wherever he went, kneeled at his feet and ate from his fingers, and apparently assisted the king with a little pre-breakfast exercise. Kurt however, couldn’t look away for a second.

An hour later Kurt found himself once again sitting at the long dining table with King Dalton at his side, and the slave knelt on the floor between them, accepting fruit from his master’s fingers, licking honey from each digit in the most wanton way imaginable.

“I must apologize for my indecency earlier. I hope I did not offend you” Dalton was saying, and Kurt fought down the blush as he tore his eyes away from the boy again and met Dalton’s.

“No, it was just a surprise, that’s all. Pleasure slaves are... uncommon here.” Kurt murmured, his voice higher than usual and strained with embarrassment.

“Still, I feel I must make it up to you, tonight.” Kurt hoped for a moment this wouldn’t be another invitation, and was immensely relieved when it didn’t come and the man fell quiet beside him, smiling almost affectionately at the boy at his feet as he fed him a fig. He patted his cheek and met Kurt’s gaze, winking.

Kurt excused himself from the table.