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“Of course I am. I am a prince, one day to be a king. A penchant for evil is practically mandatory.”
Before Davos could reply, Sebastian pulled the young man’s mouth down on his dick again, then with both hands, began to fuck him. He was careful not to do serious damage, but he was not afraid to be rough. Davos loved it, as evidenced by the way his hands went to his crotch, freeing his cock in a desperate manner. He fisted his hard rod in time to Sebastian’s strokes, grunting and moaning around the prince’s cock like the willing, desperate little fuck toy he was.
The prince’s lusts were far stronger than the many forces working to repress them, and they seemed to grow by the day. He was never entirely satisfied. Though a hot, willing mouth sated simple physical needs, it did absolutely nothing to give him what he really wanted and needed.
As dominant as he could be, Sebastian craved being dominated. He’d had a very brief taste of it once at Lucan’s knee. As Davos sucked away, Sebastian let his mind travel to his true fascination, replaying the events of that day yet again. It was his most cherished memory and he liked to focus on each and every part of it.
He understood that the boy with the burned eyes had been entirely blinded and sent back to his home in the regions. Perhaps he should make amends, then again, the little brute should have been less of a leering bully.
Sebastian came down Davos’s throat in what he knew was a largely perfunctory manner. It was quite hot in a way, just to use this pretty little tailor, to feel the heat of his mouth, the eager working of his tongue, and to watch how he swallowed the royal seed with submissive obedience.
“Thank you, sire,” Davos grinned, dabbing his lips with the corner of a silken handkerchief as he stood up again. “Please, let me show you what I have in store for you this evening.”
He removed a light linen cover from a dummy, exposing a jacket of such supreme elegance and excess that for a moment Sebastian could think of absolutely nothing else. It had been made in the colors of purple and gold, of course, but those two colors had been deployed with such magnificent grandeur that Seb was absolutely spellbound. No part of the piece was left plain. Swirls and patterns and beadwork festooned the back, the sides, the lapels. There were lace overlays here and there, emphasizing the lines of the garment. And of course, there would be an undershirt and that undershirt would be fitted with extended lace that would appear under the sleeves and hem.
“You have no need of corseting, of course, but it is the fashion these days, and the laces act as additional decoration, as does the boning. You may need to take the jacket off…
“I am not taking that off once I put it on,” Sebastian declared. “There is not a force on the continent that would part me from that garment. I will sleep in it!”
Devos’ grin was broad and pleased. “I do so appreciate your majesty’s enthusiasm for my work.”
“You are more than a tailor, Devos. You are a magician.”
“You are too kind,” Devos said in a tone that suggested he knew very well what his powers were. “Please, come, stand on the fitting dais. If you would not remind removing your current clothing down to the the undergarments…”
Sebastian stripped slowly, folding his clothing carefully. Excitement was building. Devos was usually relatively circumspect about his creations, not wanting to blow his own horn, as it were. But with the tailor unable to contain his enthusiasm, and making bold proclamations of anticipation, and it being Sebastian’s very own birthday, he allowed his emotions to get the better of him. A small gasp escaped his lips as Devos brought the garments out, a sound his mother would have certainly chastised him for had she happened to have overheard it.
“This will be an outfit to be remembered,” Devos said, presenting the first of several garments to the thrilled prince, who stood in his underwear upon a small dais, surrounded by mirrors reflecting the long, lithe length of his royal frame back at him. Even before Devos began to dress him, he looked good, and well he knew it.
The process of being clad by a proper tailor was a pleasure Sebastian hoped everybody would have the chance to enjoy at least once in their lifetime, for it was like being transformed. Sebastian was not entirely sure what life was like outside the walls of the castle, but he assumed people had at least one tailor per household. His family had a small slew of them, but he only ever allowed Davos to clothe him.
