Kol Lord of Ass

Kol, Lord of Ass – Chapter 3 By Colin DV

Note: This series is my first foray into fantasy erotica, but if you're interested in the sex life of me and my cum-addicted husband, Benj, please check out my ongoing series: "Benj Loves My Cream."

If you like the series, let me know! ColinDV80@yahoo.com

I am Kol, Duke of Asselvya and, for 20 years now, Lord Protector of the Realm on behalf of my only brother, His Glorious Majesty, King Vik the Third of Ignatia. I am my brother's most powerful lord in men of arms, in wealth, in land, in influence. As Lord Protector, my word is law, second only to the King, even above his own sons.

In my first two chapters I told you of two young men. First, there was Torsten, the virginal young lordling. Then second there was my bitch in heat, Sal, now my chief steward and brother-in-law.

However, in this third chapter of my tale, I will tell of a fat merchant. It begins when I was hosting a feast for the council of burghers from my duchy's second-largest market town, Bridgeton. While I'm a firm believer in the importance of lordly progresses – traveling the lands so people both high and low can see you, seek redress for grievances, and so on – I also believe that the upper classes should see a lord in his court from time to time, to fully bask in our exalted presence.

Thus, I played host for the great merchants and tradesmen of Bridgeton on the night of their town's patron saint. The choice of date was deliberately chosen to ensure that these same merchants would make a grand donation to the Church in Asselvya City. While I care not for God, His Church, His joyless clerics, or His holy scriptures, I yet make it a point to cultivate the support of the High Clerics. After all, only a fool makes powerful enemies unnecessarily.

At High Table, the eight wealthiest and most powerful members of the council of burghers were seated. At my right, at the place of honor was the Town Chancellor, Esk – a painfully thin old man who'd led the council since before I was a man. While he was not the most engaging of conversationalists, it was clear that his mind was yet incredibly sharp and that it wasn't mere chance or pedigree which had ensured the longevity of his position.

Far more congenial was a fat middle-aged merchant seated across from me named Bor. He was loud and funny and impetuous – in other words, completely vulgar for all his wealth. Though I found myself liking Bor well enough, I couldn't help thinking that if God smashed Esk and Bor together, then divided the mass more equally, the Realm might have two more tolerable men.

It also became clear that Bor was like me with a decided preference for men. Perhaps in the hope of cultivating my favor, he loudly boasted of a handsome groom he regularly bent in amusing locations about his estate. Gazing at him across the table, I didn't doubt the existence of the groom, though I seriously doubted the groom was the one being bent. I can scent a bitch when one is seated across from me. But I laughed along with his dirty stories.

That night, after my bath, I was standing naked by the fire to dry myself and warm my bones. I'd rung the night bell and felt no need to put on clothes when I was about to have my cock serviced. With a knock, my guards ushered in my attendant, and I turned around, shocked (and I am not a man often shocked) to see Bor standing there.

I pointed at him. "Is this a jest? For I am not amused."

Bor had an alarmed look on his face, but he bowed low, saying: "Your Grace, I beg forgiveness for the intrusion. I request but a moment..."

"Enough! Be thankful I'm in a magnanimous mood, though you please me not. Say your piece and get out."

"Your Grace, thank you."

"My Lord. You will address me as `my Lord.'"

He looked even more flustered at that. "But you are a Royal Duke! Is the title not appropriate?"

"It is permitted, but not appropriate. As our Lord God is to me, so as I am to you."

He bowed low again. "My Lord."

"Now speak."

"First, my Lord, I would never presume that you would want one such as I. Indeed, I had to pay heavily to your servants for this opportunity. I have, however, brought a most handsome lad – waiting in the hall – as recompense. His face is like an angel! I dare say that my Lord will find him most pleasing..."

I draped myself in a robe and sat down. "Better. Perhaps I will not have your fat ass tied naked to a post and whipped for your presumption."

He blanched at that. And rightly so, since I was still of half a mind to see it done.

But he continued: "I seek your support in the next chancellor vote."

I stared hard at him. "That is no small ask. Chancellor Esk has led your town ably for many years now. Tell me – why should I throw my support to a lard ass too stupid to know when not to disturb his Lord?"

Bor swallowed deeply, yet persisted. He was stupid, but not a coward, I'd credit that. Pulling out a scroll, he said: "Chancellor Esk is of the old merchant families and his ideas are old – too concerned with protecting his wealth and not in the increasing of it. I am of the new. I was not born to wealth."

"I can tell," I said dryly.

He chuckled uncomfortably at that. "Please, my Lord. I have written down a number of my ideas for increasing commerce in the region. If it please you, please see if they and my candidacy have merit."

I stared hard at him. Watching him start to squirm under my gaze, I assessed him. His face was decent – he might even be handsome if he stuffed himself less. He still had all his wavy black hair, though it had started to gray at the temples. Seeing his overly-ornate vest straining to hold in his great gut, he struck me as a once-strong lad who'd given himself over to gluttony after achieving financial success.

Decided, I sat down in one of my large comfortable chairs near the fire. With some ointment, I began stroking my big disappointed cock back up to full strength. Bor stared – clearly trying not to stare – at my naked body and large cockstand. Yes, he was definitely a man's man.

"This groom you spoke of at dinner. Is he real or was that an idle boast?"

Bor gripped his hands together. "Oh, most real, my Lord!"

Still stroking my cock, I said: "Tell me of him. And speak true. Ever lie to me and the next words you speak will be screams from a whipping post."

"Never, my Lord!"

"Well?"

"Oh, he is most well-favored, Lord. Handsome, muscles all over – like firm swollen fruit."

"Yes. And is he smooth or hairy?"

"Oh, hairy, my Lord – exceedingly. His chest and legs are covered in dark hair. Even his shoulders, Lord!"

Stroking faster, with my eyes closed, I said: "Yes, nice. How about his cock – is he small or hung like a horse?"

"He's quite large, Lord – both thick and long."

"Oooh, good. What else?!"

"Well, my Lord... The lad is brilliant with horses, but, I'm sorry to say, is quite dumb."

Still stroking, I asked: "How dumb?"

"Well, Lord, I wouldn't trust him to sell eggs at market day. Bad at numbers. Gullible. He'd be swindled before noon."

That did it. I was close. "Oh, God, I love a dumb lad! There's nothing like fucking a thick stupid lad! Come here!"

"Lord?"

"Fast! Mouth on my cock, pig!"

Bor moved quickly over and, dropping down, took my cock into his mouth. And I spilled into his swallowing mouth. He moaned gratifyingly.

After he'd sucked me dry and pulled back, I slapped him hard in the face. "Your sloth almost made your Lord waste his seed!"

His face clearly stinging, he blubbered: "I beg forgiveness, Lord! I was slow only out of surprise to be so favored."

I grunted. A decent response for a vulgar merchant.

"Forgiven, this time. Pour me wine, bring me your scroll, and sit here at my feet."

With pleasing speed, Bor filled my goblet, brought it to me, then sat his fat ass down on the floor at my feet.

As I drank my wine, I read his scroll, considering. Some were idiotic nonstarters. Some were intriguing. Some I didn't understand.

"Tell me – why would you replace bridge tolls with market taxes?"

"The bridge tolls are high, my Lord. A farmer or newly starting tradesman might not come to market, or come less frequently, as they do not know if the sales will be worth the toll. To say nothing of the incentive to dangerous illegal crossings. Taking a percentage of the sales at the market would increase the overall volume of commerce, and could be more easily policed through inspectors."

I grunted. "An interesting proposal. I will have to discuss it with my ministers."

"You are wise, Lord."

I asked him a few more questions and he answered all of them with ready, concise explanations. Which was good, since I abhored men who couldn't make a point and shut up.

"I must say. Your ideas intrigue me. You intrigue me. Perhaps I should make you one of my ministers?"

"My Lord flatters me."

I then ruffled his hair. "But then how would I keep you? My larders would be empty within a week."

"Lord."

I tossed the scroll on the floor. "Enough. Take this goblet. Then remove your clothes."

Bor got up, and placed my goblet on the table. Turning to me, he said: "Lord, did I not mention the lad in the hall..."

I smiled. "You did. Tell me – did I summon you to my bedchamber?"

He shook his head. "No, Lord."

I continued, mildly. "I've even read your proposals. You'd invade your Lord's chambers and naysay him?"

"Never, Lord!"

"Then why are you still dressed?!"

He quickly stripped off his clothes, then stood before me. Naked, his gut was even larger than I'd envisioned. But it was taut at least. His chest, sparsely covered with dark hair, was soft, yet flat. A plus since I disliked pendolous bitch tits on a man. His hard cock was of decent size and was visible despite the gut.

I gestured for him to turn around, and his ass was the first nice surprise. In my experience, fat men have no asses for all their extra padding. Their backsides are like flat fleshy walls. Too much sitting and not enough riding, me thinks. But Bor's ass, though excessively large, was wide, round and fair firm-looking.

Having him turn around again to face me, I resumed stroking my cock. "I love a dumb lad, but I also like a clever one. And you've put me in the taste for pork."

He shifted on his feet uncomfortably at that. The man had grown wealthy enough that he had no one around him to tell him what was plain was plain.

"Tell me – this dumb groom. You fucked him?"

"...Not precisely, Lord."

"'Not precisely, Lord,'" I mocked. "Are you now a Justice of the Peace? Speak, man! It's not a difficult question – did you put your cock in his ass?"

"Nay, Lord. He put his cock in mine."

"Ha! Just as I thought. Not just a pig, but a sow. Bend over the bed."

He did so and I moved behind him, further greasing my cock. He looked over his shoulder at me: "Will my Lord be gentle?"

"Gentle! Have you not just boasted of your hung groomsman? Or was that a lie?!"

"Nay, Lord! No lie!"

Putting my hands on his back, I then aimed my cock in the thick folds of his ass and pushed straight in. I encountered no resistance before I was balls deep in his fat ass. Guess he'd spoke true of the groom.

"Oh, my Lord!" he cried.

His voice was irritating. I slapped his ass. "No more words from you until I give you leave! You grunt like a pig – no more!"

I was in a high temper. He was an irritating, intriguing, intruding, vexing, vulgar lard ass who'd managed to get my cockblood up like the sweetest cocksucker.

And I vented my lust and frustration by railing his fast ass at speed. His hole was moist and tight. My hands gripped the sides of his huge gut. And his fat cheeks made for a satisfying bounce as I shoved my thick cock in. He was making a series of satisfying "Uh! Uh! Uh!" sounds. And it wasn't long before I was grabbing his gut painfully and screaming my pleasure as I emptied my seed into him."

I pulled out of him, utterly spent. As I walked over to the wash basin, I said: "You can speak now – what do you have to say?"

"Thank you, Lord."

I laughed. "You're welcome, and you just received my grace. Now hurry back to your chambers. Sleep with your ass up."

Bor stood up, his hard cock sticking out. "On my stomach, Lord?"

"Is there another way? Or has a good fuck made you dense like your groom? If I find that you have wasted my seed, I will be displeased."

"Yes, Lord."

As he hurriedly got dressed and began to leave the chamber, I called after him: "If I'm lucky, you'll bear me some piglets for the market!"

I slept contently but awoke again late at night. As I considered my options, both work and pleasure, I remembered my fat merchant. I called for a guard to find out his assigned chamber. I then put on my slippers and robe and traversed the castle, snatching a couple of night servants along the way for their lanterns.

As the guard led me to Bor's chambers, I laughed to myself. He had somehow managed to get himself assigned one of the finest suites in my castle – one usually reserved for visiting great lords or other high dignitaries. He really was a jumped-up little shit.

I entered the inner chamber with two servants. As they began lighting candles, I saw Bor's large shape under the coverlets in the immense canopied bed. Next to Bor was a young lad, who startled awake at the noise and lights, while Bor slumbered on.

I walked up to the bed and pulled the covers back from the boy. He was naked. A nicely muscled lad. Nice large cock. I was catching on to Bor's type.

And the lad's face was, indeed, beautiful – almost too pretty for a big-cocked lad.

I shushed the boy as I pulled the rest of the covers off and clambered into the big bed with them. I was gratified to see that Bor was lying on his stomach and I saw his body shake as the chill of the room and yanked blanket roused him.

Moving behind him, I slapped his ass hard. "Wake up, pig!"

He shouted out as I stuck two fingers in his asshole. Still moist. "Tell me – did this stud here seed you after me?"

Moving my fingers in and out. "You trying to cuckold your Lord, Bor? Pass off this boy's piglets as my own?"

After he shouted, "Nay, Lord!" I looked at the wide-eyed boy for confirmation. The boy supplied: "He sucked my cock, Lord, and came in his hand."

I slapped Bor's ass again. "So you just sucked the whore's big cock, pig?"

The boy, indignant, said: "I'm a blacksmith journeyman, Lord!" And I shushed him again.

"You ready for your Lord's `grace' again, pig?"

Bor nodded his head. "Yes, Lord."

I climbed on top of him – he really was ridiculously large – and stabbed my cock down into his fleshy ass. The bounce was as fine as I remembered and I had a very happy fuck. At my urging, Bor grunted as he housed my thick cock.

I then came blissfully in his ass.

"Thank you, Lord."

Still buried in his ass, I bit his ear and whispered, "Surprisingly, for one so fat, you've pleased your Lord. Is your pig-cock hard, hmm? Roll onto your side."

We rolled over, still joined cock-to-ass, onto our sides. And, yes, his cock stuck out from under his big belly, hard and leaking.

"You, not-whore, suck my piggy's cock. And do it well, like it was my own."

With good speed, the boy moved down the bed and engulfed Bor's cock in his mouth. Bor moaned even more as the boy's apparently talented mouth worked him over.

Before long, Bor was spending in the boy's mouth and my sensitive cock felt the tight quivers deep inside his ass.

Pulling out, I laid on my back and had Bor get up, then attend me with a wet cloth.

Feeling happy and sated, I spread my arms. "Come, kiss me, boy." He really was pretty, with ridiculous ringlets.

I kissed the boy deeply and long. Bor stood by the bed. "The boy's mouth is sweet. Perhaps I taste your spend, pig? See you how much your Lord favors you tonight."

"I am grateful, Lord. Most grateful."

"Good. You, boy, come sleep in my arms. You, pig, cover us and lay at my feet. Keep them well warm."

Then, with a pretty lad in my arms and Bor's hot, heavy body under the covers keeping my feet warm, I returned to a contented slumber.

In the morning, I fucked the boy. He really was a nice piece – squealed more than my pig, to be honest. But Bor certainly hadn't sought to placate me with second-class goods, I'd credit him that.

I didn't see Bor again before his delegation returned to their town. He apparently had the good sense not to try achieving an audience through the night bell again. I might even have been a little disappointed.

After some more discussion and deliberation with my ministers, I concluded that many of Bor's ideas had real merit. Some could even be used elsewhere in my duchy. So, before Bridgeton's next chancelloral election, I made Esk a regional tax administrator. It was a perfect job for an uncreative, yet honest, merchant. And, since it came with a non-herditary title, it was even considered a promotion of a sorts.

I don't know whether Esk was pleased with the transfer, and, honestly, I cared not. The important thing was that he was moved out of the way, with honor and in a way that would not needlessly antagonize the town's wealthy old guard. I then discreetly let the burghers know my preferences and Bor was duly elected Chancellor.

Since it's been over a year since the election, I'll need to make it a point to stay at Bridgeton on my next progress in the area to see how my pig and his reforms fare.

And to see this groom, too, of course. God, I love a dumb thick lad!