The Groom of the Stool

"By God I need to shit." The largest man in the room exclaimed with a booming voice, his discomfort palpable.

A diligent servant, quick to respond, nodded in acknowledgment, executed a respectful bow, and promptly departed. In the meantime, James, holding the esteemed position of groom of the stall, sprung into action with unwavering dedication. His solemn duty was to tend to the King's personal needs, even in this most intimate of moments. James hurried into the chamber, his footsteps echoing softly on the opulent floors, and approached the King with a deep and respectful bow. The aging, corpulent monarch returned the gesture with a nod of his own, signaling James to commence his work.

With practiced hands, James assisted the King in undoing his trousers, a process that ordinarily consumed approximately 45 minutes, though the precise duration could vary. The chair upon which the King sat was a substantial piece of furniture, its size and design serving to obscure the monarch from view. A strict decree, enforced under the gravest of penalties, forbade anyone from entering the chamber until the King had concluded his private business.

As the King skillfully unfastened his trousers, stepped out of them, and settled onto the seat, James carried out his duties with the utmost discretion. While performing his role as groom of the stall, he discreetly averted his gaze, mindful of the respect and privacy due to the King.

"Are you prepared, Your Grace?" James inquired.

"Yes," the King grumbled.

"Is Your Grace feeling well today?"

"It's been a long day dealing with assholes."

"I understand the sentiment."

Surprisingly, this elicited laughter from the King, causing his ample belly to jiggle with mirth. The King had explicitly requested not to see James while attending to his needs, leading to the construction of a chair with a high back that enveloped him. Even if the King were to turn, he wouldn't catch sight of James until he stood up.

"Very well," James said with a warm smile as he slipped out of his shoes and deftly removed his shirt. He carefully folded the garment and placed it to the side. "Take all the time you need, Your Grace. You are the King, and no one will interrupt you during this private moment."

"No," the King agreed, his tone gruff. Among the King's inner circle, only three individuals could speak to him with such candidness: James during these intimate moments, the court Jester, whom James knew well outside of their official roles, and, of course, the Queen herself.

James silently slipped out of his trousers, placing them meticulously on the side. He then knelt down beside the specialized high-backed chair, designed to provide both comfort and discretion. This arrangement allowed James to carefully examine the King's posterior to ensure it was impeccably clean before proceeding with the task at hand.

"I must remark, Your Grace, that your anus seems to be in excellent condition today," James mused, his voice gentle yet professional. "I'll proceed as usual."

"Get on with it," the King grumbled impatiently.

"Of course, Your Grace," James responded with utmost deference. With a practiced and almost reverent touch, he gently reached up and parted the monarch's buttocks, his fingers gliding along the warm, slightly damp skin. James's movements were deliberate and careful, a testament to his experience in this unique role.

The massage was more than a mere formality; it was a ritual honed over countless encounters. It served the dual purpose of soothing the King's nerves and preparing him for the task ahead. James knew the importance of making this intimate moment as comfortable as possible for the King, ensuring that he could let go and allow the process to unfold naturally. The King's trust in James was unspoken but deeply understood, a bond formed through years of such discreet service.

"I also need to examine something on your testicles, Your Grace," James continued, his tone respectful and laser-focused.

"Very well," the King agreed, his trust in James evident as he allowed the necessary inspection to proceed.

In matters such as these, the King rarely argued. James supposedly held a 'medical' degree, or what constituted as one in those days. He was the surgeon with the least lost patients, a distinction that earned him the King's unquestioning trust when it came to such delicate subjects.

With the King settled comfortably in the high-backed chair, he wouldn't be attending to his needs for at least another twenty minutes. This gave James the opportunity to meticulously examine the King's testicles, his skilled hands moving with a precision that had been honed through years of practice.

With practiced precision, James continued his examination, gently cupping the King's testicles and lifting them in his cupped hand. He carefully observed their texture and responsiveness, all the while maintaining an air of professionalism that would never betray the true nature of this act.

James repeated the gentle bouncing motion for a while, his skilled hands ensuring that no detail went unnoticed. He noticed the King's sigh of relief and allowed a small, knowing smile to grace his lips. The King believed this to be a legitimate medical procedure, and James understood that the monarch would likely never inquire further about it, embarrassed by the prospect of questioning a respected surgeon on such matters.

He continued to massage the King's ball sack and saw the King grow erect, his member, while not as impressive as James' was still nice to look at and gave James something to enjoy while he sat under there, that was the true nature of the examination.

James continued to perform his meticulous examination, gently massaging the King's scrotum. As he worked, he couldn't help but notice a change in the King's physical response. The King began to grow erect, his member, while not as imposing as James', still commanded attention and admiration.

This subtle transformation didn't escape James's keen observation. It was a momentary diversion from the formalities of the examination, a glimpse into the King's more human desires. While James maintained his professional demeanor, he couldn't deny that the sight of the King's arousal provided him with a certain secret enjoyment. This, in essence, was the true nature of the examination -- a covert indulgence for both the King and James.

The King, blissfully unaware of James's ulterior motives, found himself enjoying the sensations of the massage. To the King, James had always assured him that this was simply part of the necessary procedure, a reassurance that had been accepted without further inquiry.

The first time the King had experienced this physiological response, he had briefly wondered but had never dared to question it. James's professionalism and confidence had put any doubts to rest, and so the King had settled into a routine, trusting in James's expertise and discretion.

The King let out a low groan as his member stretched out from beneath its foreskin, the throbbing tip of the King's cock becoming unmistakably visible. James couldn't help but admire the sight, a subtle but significant detail that had become an unspoken part of their private ritual.

As the King's arousal continued, James maintained his professional facade, his demeanor unwavering. He had assured the King countless times that this reaction was entirely normal during the procedure, and the King had accepted the explanation without question.

Behind the facade of their roles, hidden away behind the high-backed chair, a silent understanding prevailed. The King's secret arousal, an intimate detail known only to James, added a layer of intrigue and enjoyment to their unique relationship, one that transcended the formalities of their positions.

"God," the man moaned, and then, with a powerful release, he spurted, his essence dripping out. James maintained his professional composure, even though he couldn't help but find a certain satisfaction in the sight.

He continued to gently stroke the King's scrotum for a while, ensuring that the monarch was fully relaxed.

"There you go, my lord. Feeling more relaxed now?" James inquired.

"Yes," the King replied, leaning back in the chair and letting out a contented sigh as cum continued to drip from the tip of his member. The unspoken understanding between them remained intact, their secret shared in the hidden confines of the chamber behind the high-backed chair.

"That should assist in a more comfortable bowel movement, my lord," James remarked, maintaining his professional tone. "It's never advisable to relieve oneself when stressed."

"God, you're skilled at this," the King praised.

James inclined his head in acknowledgment, grateful that the King didn't interpret his expertise in a sexual context, as James himself secretly did. In those times, any implication of interest in another man's intimate anatomy, especially one as prominent as the King's, could result in severe consequences, including punishment by means as dire as a red-hot poker.

James keenly observed the subtle signs that indicated the King was prepared to defecate. The King's anus began to puff in and out rhythmically, a clear signal that he was ready.

"Ah, here we go," James remarked, parting the King's sphincter carefully. The aging monarch let out a low moan as his stool began its descent, accompanied by a fart and a reflexive urge to squeeze.

"No, Your Grace, don't squeeze. Please, relax," James advised with concern evident in his voice.

"What happens if I squeeze?" the King inquired.

"It can strain your heart, Your Grace," James explained patiently. When the process was complete, James smiled warmly. "Right, I'm now prepared to insert the device, Your Grace."

"And this device will cleanse me thoroughly?" the King asked, eager for the promised benefits.

"Yes, Your Grace," James confirmed with assurance, ready to carry out the final step of the procedure that would ensure the King's comfort and well being.

In truth, the device was none other than James' dick. He had presented the King with a lifelike replica of his phallus and demonstrated how it functioned to deliver a cleansing liquid into the King's bowels. It had taken some persuasion on James' part, but the King had reluctantly agreed to this unconventional procedure.

James positioned himself carefully, aligning his erect member and pressing the engorged tip against his own posterior. The King emitted a grunted sound in response, his discomfort evident.

"Are you alright, Your Grace?" James inquired with genuine concern, his voice gentle and reassuring.

"Yes," the King replied, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Just not accustomed to having something inserted there."

"We've done this several times now, Your Grace," James reassured him, his smile warm and reassuring. "You should be accustomed enough to relax."

The King nodded, a mixture of discomfort and familiarity washing over him as they continued with the unique and intimate procedure, bound by their shared secret and unspoken understanding.

James understood that the King's discomfort wasn't primarily about the physical act of having something long and thick inserted into his anus. It was driven by the pervasive fear of the severe societal consequences associated with homosexuality during those times. The King was acutely aware that even the slightest hint of such activities could lead to dire repercussions, both personally and for the stability of his reign.

In that era, being openly gay was not only socially condemned but could result in harsh penalties, including public humiliation, imprisonment, or even execution. As the ruler of the kingdom, the King bore the additional weight of maintaining his public image and safeguarding the monarchy's reputation.

Their discreet arrangement was a well-guarded secret, known solely to the two of them. It served as a hidden reality, carefully hidden from the world, ensuring that no one would ever find out, in theory at least.

"Alright, I'm going to gently insert it now," James said as he carefully pushed his member into the King's posterior, the familiarity of their unique arrangement making the process smoother. He had previously employed the replica to demonstrate to the King what was necessary, a lesson that had successfully eliminated any subsequent objections from the monarch.

James continued to push himself in, gradually sliding deeper into the King until he was fully inserted, his shaft buried deep within.

"Alright, I'm going to begin now," James informed the King.

"Okay," the King nodded, his understanding evident.

He pulled back about halfway and then thrust upward forcefully. The King grunted in response as James maintained a steady rhythm of powerful thrusts.

The intensity of their encounter continued to build with each passing moment. James occasionally paused, teasingly close to the King's flesh, before resuming his vigorous movements. With each powerful thrust, the King's testicles bounced in rhythm, reflecting the passionate cadence of their hidden connection.

James struggled to stifle a groan as he pulled back about halfway before forcefully thrusting upward. The King grunted in response as James continued the powerful rhythm.

He rested there, their flesh tantalizingly close, and maintained the vigorous thrusting for an extended period. The King's testicles bounced with each powerful motion, and James found himself deeply immersed in their shared passion, yearning to elicit a cry of pleasure from the King.

With an uncontrollable surge of desire, James reached the pinnacle of his own pleasure. He pulsed and came, releasing a torrent of hot, sticky essence deep into the King's anus.

Breathing heavily and drenched in sweat, James sighed with satisfaction as he rested his buttocks on the stool for a moment, recovering from their intense encounter.

The King, showing patience, finally asked, "How long until you are finished?"

"Soon your grace," James said. "I need to pull the device out of your anus and then clean your anus up.

James moved it up and down, all the way to the tip and then all the way back up. He couldn't help but acknowledge that the King had a remarkably tight anus.

He rested, fully inserted, for about twenty minutes, savoring the sensation of being inside the King's anus.

Finally, James felt sufficiently rested to proceed. "I'm pulling the device out now, Your Grace," he announced.

The King, curious, inquired, "Why does it have to stay in that long?"

"To allow Your Grace's anus to accommodate its size. Once it's more accustomed, it'll be easier to insert," James explained.

The King nodded in understanding.

James pushed up, thrusting the King a few times before smoothly sliding out. As he withdrew, his member slipped out, and a mixture of cum and lubricant dribbled out.

"Very good, Your Grace," James acknowledged.

"Are you going to clean me now?" the King inquired.

"Yes, Your Grace," James confirmed.

Carefully, James extracted himself from the King's intimate space, removed the stool, and fetched a cloth to clean himself. He wiped his member, carefully attended to his balls, and then approached the King to inspect his anus.

"It does indeed appear to be more relaxed," James mused.

The King, with a touch of humor, replied, "It should be after you shoved that big thing up there."

"Thank you, Your Grace," James acknowledged with a nod, taking the King's unintended compliment in stride. He meticulously attended to the royal cleanup, wiping away the remnants, even inserting his finger knuckle-deep to ensure thorough cleansing. As he withdrew his finger, some liquid stool dribbled out, which James swiftly cleaned.

James then proceeded to carefully clean the King's testicles, pinching the end of his cock a couple of times for good measure. After everything was in order, James returned all items to their proper places, dressed himself, and patted the King's rear.

"All done, Your Grace," he announced.

The King, still recovering from his satisfying experience, grunted in response. "That was the best shit ever. I'm getting you a new house."

"I assure you, that's not necessary, Your Grace," James replied.

"I'm the King, and I insist," the monarch declared firmly.

James bowed respectfully.

After completing his duties, James retreated to a corner of the chamber, his chest heaving with rapid breaths, and leaned against the cool stone wall. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead as he caught his breath, his heart pounding in his chest. He sighed deeply, the weight of their secret encounter pressing down on him.

The perilous nature of their clandestine liaison only added to the intoxication of the experience. The thrill of the dangerous game he played heightened his excitement, his every sense tingling with anticipation. Each second felt like an eternity, as he considered the dire consequences should anything go awry.

If the King were to stand up for any reason, if the makeshift seat were to give way under the strain, or if someone were to intrude unexpectedly, James's life would be forfeit. The palpable risk he took for the sake of his pleasure added an exhilarating edge the encounters.

Despite the inherent danger, James had meticulously covered their tracks, ensuring that no trace of their activities remained. The King would never see or suspect a thing. The King's physical limitations had necessitated James's discreet employment in the first place, a secret locked away behind the thick walls of the royal chamber, known only to the two of them.

James received a call just before bedtime, and he sighed, knowing that he couldn't resist the King's summons, despite the late hour. His anticipation was palpable as he made his way to the King's chambers.

Upon arrival, he found the corpulent monarch already seated in position.

"Your Grace," James greeted respectfully.

"Evening, James. How are you?" the King inquired.

"Not bad, Your Grace," James replied with a tired yawn. He ensured they were alone, then circled around to the front and examined the King's condition. "That's twice in one day, Your Grace."

"Yes," the King grumbled in acknowledgment.

"May I inquire about your dietary intake today?" James asked, knowing that proper nutrition played a role in the King's comfort during these intimate procedures. The King proceeded to list everything he had consumed throughout the day.

"Now, in order to make your bowel movement easier, if I may suggest, Your Grace, perhaps reducing your consumption of red meat for a while," James suggested.

"You're the expert," the King grunted. "Are you going to use that device on me?"

"Yes, Your Grace," James confirmed with a bow. "But it will only be for a few moments. Your anus needs to rest after earlier."

"You're telling me," the King grumbled in agreement.

James chuckled lightly, then proceeded to strip off his clothing. Once he was naked, he positioned himself beneath the King, preparing for their intimate procedure.

"Remember, Your Grace, take your time and don't force it," James reminded him.

"Sure," the King replied, his anticipation evident.

James carefully wiped the King's posterior, ensuring it was clean of any excess. He then presented the lifelike device he had mentioned earlier.

"Here, Your Grace, I'll insert my device into your anus to help loosen things up," James explained.

"Sure," the King replied with a certain eagerness in his voice.

James pressed the engorged tip of his member against the King's entrance, ensuring his readiness. "Are you ready, Your Grace?"

"Hit me," the King responded impatiently.

With a practiced motion, James pushed his cock in, and the King moaned loudly in response. "Are you alright, Your Grace?" James inquired.