THE REGENCY
by Michael Arram
XVII
Reggie listened to the heartbeat through Lance’s chest wall. It was strong, steady and very human. Nestling his cheek against the warm skin and muscle, he reached over to stroke Lance’s right nipple. It soon hardened and stood up. This was amazing! Reggie moved his hand along the body below the duvet and found Lance’s magnificent cock, which he was now free to touch, manhandle and suck as he pleased.
Lance’s penis stirred in response to the stimulation. It was still half-inflated, sticky with lube and drying semen. Reggie was no longer a virgin. Ten minutes earlier he had been on all fours under Lance’s powerful body, feeling things he had never before experienced or dared dream he might as a huge something swelled inside him. It had hurt, but not as much as he had feared. Then Lance had begun moving in and out of him and his own cock had felt ready to explode beneath him.
What had been best? he mused. Was it the sensations inside his ass, the spasms of erotic ecstasy convulsing the nerve endings of his anus? Or was it just the feeling of being possessed and used by a powerful male body? No, he decided, the best had been the murmured words of love and concern falling into his ears, and the perfect safety of Lance’s strong arms around him when it was all over.
Reggie flexed his anus. It felt warm and satisfied. No one had told him the good feelings of making love would go on long after his lover’s cock had pulled out of him. There had been no condom, Reggie having refused to let Lance use one. He had wanted Lance’s flesh against his, and Lance’s seed ejaculating deep inside himself. That for him had been their perfect moment of union.
Lance turned and enveloped him. There was that scent again, different now. He could smell a sweatier, sharper Lance in his nostrils, the vigorous and beautiful young man who had taken him for a lover. It still had that exhilarating, spicy tang, but now it was enhanced, bringing him comfort and a feeling of completion.
Lance’s hand wrapped around Reggie’s own member and began massaging it. Reggie squirmed and whimpered. Lance, waking now, knew what he wanted to do. He reached over and got some lube on his hand. His fingers took hold of Reggie again and the manipulation soon produced a straining erection. When Lance began rubbing the tip of Reggie’s pale bluish glans, the sensations became too much. He was thrashing in Lance’s restraining arms as he came, volleys of semen arching across the bedclothes.
Lance squeezed Reggie, who relaxed back into him. ‘Ooh, baby! What a lot of cum, and how far you shoot! Your cum is different too, sorta watery, not like mine.’
‘That was … almost too much, Lance. It was amazing!’
‘And we’re going to do it every day, Reggie, as much as we want. We’re together now, and no one’s ever going to separate us.’
Reggie was too dazed even to feel happy. His dreams had come true so quickly. ‘Lance, you’re Satan, is that right?’
‘That still bothers you, obviously.’
‘I’m sorry, but it does. You must know what that name means to humans, or you wouldn’t have kept it not just from me but from your dads.’
‘Yeah, I knew. I understand better than Tobias how words and names are important to humans. If I had come out with it when we were kids, it would not have helped me integrate into human life.’
Reggie chuckled. ‘It might have helped with Damien. He’d have been so proud to be Satan’s best mate.’
Lance too laughed. ‘Maybe so, but I am what I am, Reggie. You and all the rest had to judge me for what I did and said, not for a name people gave me long ago. Do you believe I’m good?’
‘Of course I do!’ Reggie affirmed with feeling. ‘You’ve never been anything other than the best friend a boy could ever want, and when you shot inside me just now it was magical, as if you’d made me a part of you.’
The two teenagers lay quiet for a while, Lance gently nibbling and kissing Reggie’s shoulders while continuing to fondle his genitals. ‘Baby?’ he eventually murmured, ‘I have to finish telling you things.’
‘Go on, angel-boy.’
‘Angel-boy? Is that what you’re going to call me?’
‘Uh-huh. You’re my guardian angel. I think so anyway. You’ve been so good for me in every way.’
‘Okay, Reggie babe, angel-boy it is, especially as I need to talk about just that thing. I was telling you about the orders, and the way we differ in our opinions. Tobias came to earth to confirm for me what I had already guessed: the One has arisen.’
‘The One?’
‘A human being who will take on the burden of saving the world and completing humanity’s salvation. He has been long promised. The erelim have always doubted that any human could accomplish such a task. Seraphs are pessimists about the material world; they don’t really like it that much. The rest of us are more hopeful.’
Reggie twisted round in Lance’s arms to face him. ‘What, is it like the Second Coming? Wow! Who is he? Are you going to tell me?’
‘Of course! You’re my babe. We have no secrets now. He’s Maxxie, the Golden Elphberg.’
‘Oh my God! Little Maxim?’
‘Yes, and anything evil and black will now be drawn to him, to try to stave off his triumph. Simply because of who he is, all bad men will hate and seek to destroy him, even though they don’t really know him or what he is. They will only sense that he’s an enemy. He needs protecting while he’s small and weak. Maxxie may be the One, but he is only human.’
‘How much does he know about all this?’
‘All of it, and more – much more – than I do. The celestial orders are his servants. He can even call down the erelim, which was why Tobias was at the International School today, though no human could see him. Though I am human, I too am an angel bound to his service, and I think he’s long known that this would be so. Remember, on his accession he wanted all four of us to be his household esquires. Maxxie was gathering us together for a purpose. The Mendamero Men are being refashioned into his agents. He’s already set me my first task.’
‘What’s that?’
‘To do the impossible. To save Luc Charpentier and bring him to his knees in repentance for all he has done wrong, so he can be saved.’
***
‘Marky, I’m bursting! I gotta do you!’ Barry was all but hopping up and down with suppressed libido. The pair had abandoned any idea of having sex at home. Marky had decided it was too risky at the Chancellery. Barry’s place was a non-starter. Since his mother didn’t work, even sneaking back to the Sixth District in Marky’s car at lunch break was not an option.
Barry was unable to think of anything other than Marky’s crimson lips and his bright green eyes dancing with happiness. Barry’s dick just wanted to bury itself in that brown, muscular rump, and his constant weeping erections were beginning to be a major problem.
It seemed that Marky had a similar dilemma. It had been he who initiated a risky bout of oral sex in a rickety stall of the senior boys’ toilets, which involved both being naked from the waist down. It had been a nervous Barry who had reluctantly declined the offer of Marky’s backside as things got really sweaty.
So Barry’s earnest expression of longing had its echo in Marky’s eyes. Desperate needs demanded desperate measures. ‘Look, this is probably mad, but maybe Luc Charpentier would let us use his room … providing we checked it for cameras. His mother’s never there.’
The disturbed look on Marky’s face betrayed to Barry that he had let his mouth run away with him again. ‘Okay, I get it … stupid idea. Forget I said it.’
‘I am sorry, Barry. Luc is not to be trusted in any way. You must know that. For him to find out I am gay would be catastrophic. Lance is a man to be trusted, but I could never let Luc know my secret.’
Barry felt like a fool. ‘I tried the camping idea out on my people. They said no way. I’m still grounded. Mad. They’ll let me stay over at yours cos of your dad being the chancellor. But they won’t let me sleep in a tent in a forest reserve.’
Marky gave a sad smile. ‘Sleep would not be my plan were it to happen. We must just live in hopes that the situation will settle down. They are no longer talking of sending you back to Britain, are they?’
‘That’s gone quiet at least. It would cost them too much, what with mum not working.’
‘That is good. Then I have hope. We must just be patient.’
‘Tell that to my dick!’
***
Tommy Entwhistle checked his laptop yet again. Eastnet’s site was streaming the succession debate from the Parlementplaz. The queen had already retired to the domestic quarters of the Residenz, where Tommy knew she was talking on a secure line to her husband in Belgium. She had not shared with Tommy what she and the former king were to discuss, but he half suspected she was urging that in the circumstances Rudi should return to Strelzen and resume the throne of Rothenia. It was the obvious response to the crisis, and would disconcert the conservatives. The former king’s popularity was such that the CDP would find it hard to block the withdrawal of his abdication.
The first day of debate was drawing to an end without a resolution. The liberals were arguing that the question be referred to a committee for a report on historical precedent and the constitutional basis for deposition of a reigning monarch. The CDP leaders were countering that Maxim had never been rightfully king in the first place, so deposition was hardly necessary. The public seemed increasingly gripped by the issue, and had made its presence felt that afternoon in the Parlementplaz.
Oskar von Tarlenheim had rung Tommy as soon as he saw the newscasts. ‘You notice the small groups in front of the Parliament building? Watch the news tomorrow. If they’re bigger, Strelzen’s on the way to becoming restless. This was what happened in the weeks before the May Revolution. I was only a kid, but I remember the way people gathered on the Parlementplaz. Even though the police moved them along, the crowds kept on growing till in the end only the army could shift them. But the troops refused.’
‘So what are you saying, Oskar? What does it mean?’
‘It’s too early to tell, Tomasczu. It could be the CDP gathering its supporters, but I don’t think so. The people the cameras are showing are Strelseners, while the conservatives’ natural constituency is among the rural classes. And look! Those youngsters are waving an Elphberg flag.’
‘But are they waving it for King Maxim II and the Queen Regent, or for King Robert Rudolf and Queen Eleanor?’
***
Henry had decided, with Tomas Weismann’s approval, to grasp the nettle of Count Robert Rassendyll, or King Robert Rudolf, as his followers were calling him in the posters which were starting to appear all over the city. Henry’s PA discovered the count operated out of an office in the Rotheniske Adelsgenossenschaft’s headquarters in the Third District. Henry noted the cleverness of using the RA. It avoided Count Robert’s being identified with his real backers, the rightwing CDP, but it still gave a message of tradition and powerful political support.
Henry got through easily to one of Count Robert’s campaign team, who was delighted that Eastnet was looking to screen a one-on-one interview between her boss and one of Rothenia’s premier TV anchors. ‘Not meaning to criticise,’ the young woman gushed, ‘but we got the impression that Eastnet identifies more with the Regency. State TV has been much friendlier to us till now.’
Henry put on the charm. ‘It’s all about balance, Katya. The media must be seen to avoid commitment to one side or the other. At the same time, we have to give the public the information it needs to make its own judgement. Eastnet would very much like to interview Count Robert in pursuit of just that balance. Our viewers need to know both sides of the case.’
‘Oh! That’s nice. Will you be the one interviewing him, Mr At-vood?’
‘I was hoping I might, but of course it’s up to the count. He has to be comfortable with the setting and interviewer.’
‘Can I get back to you?’
‘Of course. But you’ll need to be quick. The situation is developing rapidly.’
***
‘Room for me?’ Damien gave his friends a quizzical look.
Lance laughed. ‘Yeah, but you’re in the back. Reggie’s my babe. The front passenger seat is now reserved for him.’
‘Do you guys have to be so all over each other? Me dads have more shame, which is saying sumfink.’
‘What can I tell you?’ Lance shrugged. ‘It’s love. And who’re you to talk anyway? You couldn’t get a toothpick between you and Helen this last week.’
‘Yuh, well. It wuz a long time coming, wannit.’
Reggie chirped up, his face wreathed with a satisfied grin. ‘I could say the same. It’s taken Lance six years to realise what a catch I am.’
Damien took and hugged his American friend. ‘I’m glad for yer. Didn’t see it coming, mind. Yer two juss seemed like good mates, until Lance got his tongue down yer throat in Reception wiv the whole school looking on.’
Lance was perfectly shameless, now he had found his true love. ‘Don’t care. It adds something to have a hundred kids looking on as you neck with your boyfriend.’
‘I sorta liked it too,’ Reggie confessed. ‘They have to come to terms with it. After all, the hetero couples do it all the time. What’s the difference?’
‘I’m not criticising. Far be it from me an’ all that.’
The three boys settled in Lance’s Audi, Damien in the back. As they pulled out, Lance asked, ‘Where’s Helen anyway?’
‘Gone home on her own tonight. She says she’s got to catch up on her work. She called it the “New Reality”.’
‘Ah ha! Normality returns. Reggie and I are hoping to put it off for a few days. I sorta guessed the current lust-fest might be a phase. Too bad.’
‘You bin following the news about Maxxie and his uncle?’
‘Great-uncle,’ corrected Reggie automatically. ‘Anything happen today?’
‘If you guys had been paying attention to the world, you’d have picked up that a lot of the kids are going over to Parlementplaz tonight. Iss being organised through Facebook. I wuz thinking of heading down there meself, once I’ve dropped me bag off at home. Iss only down the hill.’
‘We’ve got other plans, involving Reggie’s bum,’ Lance confessed. We’ll give you a ring later to see if anything’s going on.
‘So now you and Reggie are an item, how’re yer parents dealing wiv it?’
Lance shrugged. ‘Henry keeps on taking pictures of us cuddling, while Ed tells him to back off. No, seriously, they’re great. There was no argument about Reggie sleeping with me. They said it was up to us, and they trusted us to know what we wanted and to be careful.’
Reggie was more enthusiastic. ‘Henry and Ed were so good. It was my mom and Esther who surprised me. They’ve always been a bit … well, protective of me.’
Lance grinned at the wheel, remembering the way Reggie’s parents had coddled and babied him when he was little.
Reggie continued, ‘I told my moms I was gay when we went back to the States, and ever since they’ve been leery about my bringing a boy home. But as soon as I broke the news that it was Lance, they were all smiles. They think he’s great. Esther even said she was delighted someone else could worry about me now. So even though I’m still fifteen for two months, they said we could sleep together from now on, providing we’re discreet.’
Reggie was looking at the traffic along Festungstrasse as they reached the Lindenstrasse junction. ‘Y’know, Daimey, I’d guess you’re gonna have some company this evening on Parlementplaz.’
The pavements were choked with young people pouring into Bila Palacz through the park gates. A lot of them had Elphberg flags. They resembled soccer fans flooding towards a stadium for a major match, except there were as many women as men.
‘Wow!’ Damien marvelled. ‘Could be in for some fun tonight! Strelzen’s never boring!’
***
Tommy checked his watch. It was time to move. He and Bela had two jobs that night. The first was to check out apartments in the Fourth District, and the second was to reacquaint themselves with Bar Melmoth.
When they finally got to the bar, they found it was packed. They had to queue for ages for a drink, then had to settle for a less-than-ideal seat in the upstairs section.
‘Can’t see much here, Tomacszu,’ Bela shouted over the hubbub.
‘We’d just better enjoy our drinks. Anyway, it’s nice to be on a date. What did you think of that last flat we looked at?’
‘Okay, I suppose. It’ll need a bit of work. Can we scrape together the money to have the bathroom refitted?’
Tommy shrugged. ‘It was cheaper ‘cos it was on the top floor. But it has two bedrooms and a nice lounge area. It’ll need serious redecorating, though. Why would someone paint walls purple?’ He shuddered.
Bela laughed. ‘It’s exciting. I never dreamed that one day I’d be looking to buy a home with a boyfriend. Amazing!’ The Rothenian marvelled at his good fortune. The two men kissed and held hands, then returned to their glasses of white Tavelner.
Talking was difficult with the shouts of revellers, and the intermittent din of the anthems blasting out from the sound system downstairs. Tommy was about to suggest giving up the night as a bad job and going for a meal instead, when Bela grabbed his hand again. Tommy followed his eyes. A slim teenager in black was weaving through the crowd, collecting glasses from the tables. An exceptionally raucous group were making his job difficult as they grabbed his arse. He hissed at them, favouring the group with a particularly venomous look.
Bela yelled in Tommy’s ear, ‘That’s Lucky!’
‘Lucky?’ Tommy yelled back.
‘They call him that. He’s the kid Hadjek was touching up that night Felip, you and I saw him here. Lucky’s one of Sczneczen’s Wejg scouts.’
‘We’re in business then. Er … what now?’
Bela smiled, a little wickedly. ‘Go pick him up. It’s his lucky night, so to speak. You’re hot and he needs the money.’
‘What? Hey, I didn’t sign up for seducing a kid!’
‘You don’t have to do anything, Tomacszu! We want information.’
‘Had it occurred to you that if someone I know were to see me here, I’d be in as much trouble as Hadjek?’
‘But no one here does know you and you’re not wearing one of your dresses. All the celebrity sites show you in tranny gear. Tonight you’re as butch as a muscleman’s jockstrap.’
Tommy had indeed dressed in a hugely expensive black leather suit Davey Skipper had given him as a present, lavishly adorned with real silver studs and chains. Tommy complained it was a bugger to keep free of tarnish. He was also wearing heavy silver jewellery in his ears and on his fingers. His eyes were masked by reflective shades, which made him look vaguely menacing.
‘How do I do it?’ Tommy asked plaintively.
‘Give it a try, men leblen.’
Tommy took a big gulp of Tavelner, throwing the grinning Bela a sour look, which only caused his lover to laugh. Bela knew Tommy had no liking or talent for cruising other men.
Tommy tried to look casual as he went downstairs in pursuit of the teenager. He couldn’t immediately see the kid in the press around the bar, so he headed for the toilets. Tommy always felt that the state of a bar’s loos told you whether it was on the up or down. Bar Melmoth’s had seen better days. Tiles were cracked and the soap dispenser empty; the mirror over the sink was a stainless steel plate. The blue lights in the stalls told their tale about the sort of customers the owners expected. A powerful smell of disinfectant overlay the reek of backed drains, defective nineteenth-century main drainage being a common problem in the Third District.
As he peed, Tommy was thinking abstractedly about the necessity for surveyors’ reports on his own prospective purchase in the neighbourhood of the Wejg.
At that moment the door banged. It was no less than the boy Lucky. He shot a glance both curious and suspicious at Tommy, then took a place two stalls away.
Feeling desperately embarrassed, Tommy coughed and fixed the boy with a look. ‘You employed here, kid?’
Lucky gave him a sidelong survey but didn’t answer, which made Tommy feel all the more foolish. But in for a penny … as Tommy’s mother said.
‘Cos I was wondering what time you get off work.’
The boy finally deigned to look directly at him and replied in English, ‘You are not Rothenian. British?’
Tommy was impressed by the standard of the teenager’s linguistic abilities. He registered a definite French accent too.
‘Yeah,’ Tommy admitted. ‘But I live here.’
‘If you want a boy, maybe I can find you one. My ass is not for sale. Give me your handij number. You want young ass?’
‘How young?’
‘You say.’
Tommy was getting redder the longer the conversation continued. ‘I was more interested in you.’
‘No deal. You want a boy, talk to Sczneczen, the bar owner.’ He zipped up and left without losing the scowl he had come in with.
Tommy followed him out a minute or two later. He rejoined Bela, who greeted him with a raised eyebrow. ‘Not much to report,’ he confessed, ‘but Lucky’s involved with pimping. He’s French and pretty well educated for a street kid. There’s definitely a story there.’
‘Pity. That means a late night, my Tommy.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘We have to tail him home, wherever that is.’
***
Lance was apparently fascinated by Reggie’s buttocks. The boys lay together on Lance’s bed, Reggie on his stomach, as Lance explored the small white mounds. ‘They’re so smooth and pale. Do you ever tan?’
Reggie chuckled into the bedclothes. ‘I go red, best I can do. Oooh … that’s really nice!’
Lance was delicately stroking his bum, and kept Reggie cooing with the effect it was having. His dick was rock hard beneath him. Eventually Lance put a pillow under Reggie’s groin and switched from exploring with his fingertips to using his tongue. This went on till Reggie began to marvel at Lance’s ability to restrain himself.
Eventually, the rimming, probing and occasional slurping stopped. Reggie sensed Lance looming over him. He opened wide his legs and welcomed the pressure against his hole, willing himself not to resist. With no more lubrication than his own spit, Lance gently prised Reggie open with his cock, took his lover under the armpits and let Reggie ease him in.
As he filled up his lover, Lance lay on top of Reggie’s warm back, squirming gently. When Reggie turned to offer his mouth, Lance began kissing him, and soon was pulling out and slamming in as well. He was beginning to learn that Reggie liked it rough and hard. The two ejaculated simultaneously, the friction on Reggie’s straining dick bringing him off against the pillow.
‘That was even more amazing,’ sighed the younger boy. ‘How can it get better every time? But it does.’
‘It was pretty good for me too. I’m gonna do you again soon as I’ve recharged, Reggie mine.’
Reggie reached over to the bedside table and searched around for his handij. He squinted at the panel. ‘Three texts from our dear leader. He and Mattie want us down in the Parlementplaz pronto. He says it’s … and I quote … “awesome”.’
‘What would you rather do?’
‘Awesome sex with you or an awesome time with Damien? Tough choice. Not! Do me, angel-boy!’
Lance was sniggering as he turned Reggie on his back and inserted his hard and still wet cock back where it wanted to be.
***
Damien and Mattie in the meantime were bemused by the surging crowd of young people filling the Parlementplaz. They had climbed up on the pedestal of the larger-than-life-size statue of Jakob Merczin, one of Rothenia’s greater nineteenth-century poets. Damien was clinging on to one of Merczin’s bronze thighs, taking pictures with his iPhone and sending them to his friends.
‘Is this a revolution, Daimey?’ Mattie asked, showing an unusual amount of excitement for him.
‘Nuh. Iss one big demo though. Never seen anyfing like it.’
The crowd had swelled during the evening to maybe fifty thousand, mostly young adults and teenagers. There were no speeches being made. Instead, a lot of red-lion Elphberg flags were being waved and chants occasionally broke out. Here and there knots of people had lit banks of candles and tea lights. Not far from Damien, students were singing national songs accompanied by guitars.
A number of homemade banners gave the message of the crowd to the Parlementplaz in Rothenian and English: LONG LIVE KING MAXIM and ELPHBERG FREEDOM: SUPPORT OUR QUEEN!
‘Maxxie would love this!’ Mattie marvelled. ‘Hey! There’s some of our Year 11 mates. Guys! Come up here!’
Three more SIS boys took the challenge, one swarming all the way to the top to sit on Merczin’s shoulders, triumphantly waving a red-lion flag someone passed him. There were cheers and laughter from the people below.
Damien observed the police on the Parliament building steps. They seemed pretty much relaxed, just standing around watching the show. Some were chatting casually with the crowd. There were no barriers out, and no columns of green police vehicles.
The media had arrived at the east end of the square. Vans and satellite dishes were in evidence. Camera lights were soon powered up as the sun went down behind the Spa Hills.
Damien and Mattie dropped to the ground and made their way unhurriedly through the enthusiastic throng. It became more crowded as they reached the steps of the National Library. Damien, however, had a way of getting places he wanted to be, as a number of stunned bystanders in his wake discovered.
‘Hey! Uncle Henry!’ he hollered in full volume at the press pack.
Henry Atwood recognised the voice and sauntered over to the barriers. ‘Hiya, babe! Enjoying the show?’
‘Wassup, Uncle Henry?’
‘First impressions are that the young people of Strelzen are making spontaneous demonstrations of loyalty to their boy king. It’s touching. People-power in action.’
‘When did it start? We heard about it at school this afternoon.’
‘No idea. The first demonstrators began showing up yesterday, but it really took off this evening. Predictions are there’ll be twice as many again tomorrow. Strelseners are like that. They insist on giving the Assembly a message as to who they want their king to be. This is Rothenia. The people make the king, not the politicians.’
‘Wow!’ Mattie chortled. ‘It is a revolution! Fantastic!’