There were few things that Prince Finnigan Faustus Ayersi refused to allow himself to be. King was the first, for only his wonderful and benevolent father deserved that title. Pushed around was the second, for only he was allowed to choose his own actions. The third, however, was the most egregious; he must never allow himself to be bored. To have nothing to do was to be uncreative.

In most situations, Jaxon could solve those problems; he always knew what Finn needed, what could tickle his fancy...and in the instances when he didn't, Finn certainly found his own entertainment in Jaxon. However, on that particular day in the middle of summer, Jaxon had fallen ill-- it was such an uncommon occurrence that Finn could only count on one hand the amount of times he'd ever been sick in his entire young life. Policies around royalty meant he couldn't be anywhere near his favourite servant lest he catch sickness himself, so Jaxon was confined to the servant quarters until he was healthy. That left Finn unattended...at least until the evening, when a replacement servant would come around.

Wandering the halls of the castle wasn't that entertaining, if only because he had no one to share it with. The majority of the simple stone hallways were lacking in any sort of decoration, and most of them led to rooms Finn had already explored so many times before. He even went so far as to rummage through his father's room in the hopes of finding something interesting, but in the end there was nothing, not even a secret document or some kind for his trouble...not that he was one for espionage anyway. If he wanted to leave the castle, he'd need a bodyguard, and anyone other than Jaxon or the occasional knight would be too stifling, especially when he wasn't too familiar with them.

His idle walking around eventually led him to the wing where most of the castle's servants stayed-- though 'wing' wasn't even the right word, since most of their rooms were on the bottom floor of the castle. Standing at the entrance were two guards, of which Finn was unfamiliar with either, but they both knew him, of course-- who didn't know the crown prince? They were clad in thick iron plating with fabric covering the chest plate and extended into a loincloth, emblazoned with Elkine's sigil, and further accentuated by House Ayersi's own personal insignia. Neither of them wore a helmet, since there was no expectation of an arrow indoors, so Finn got a good look at their faces; both were canines, of course, but one had grey fur with black markings that made him look exotic, and the other was completely black...but in the sunlight through the narrow window nearby, Finn could see specks of brown in his fur.

"Sorry, Your Highness," The first of the knights, with grey fur, put up a gauntlet-covered hand, his expression serious. "On Our Royal Highness's orders, you're not permitted into the servant's quarters."

"Aww, is there no way I can convince you two?" Finn asked with a bat of his eyelashes, stepping closer towards them. He moved between the two canines, padding back and forth on a pair of loose, luxurious linen pantaloons and a stuffy ruffled shirt, the collar tight to his neck. 

"I'm sorry, Your Highness, but no." The other replied, but he looked significantly less composed than the other. He turned his eyes away when Finn looked up to him, but when he turned to the other knight, the canine was quick to meet his gaze. He wasn't combative, but the intention of his eyes was clear; he wouldn't be 'pushed around'. Finn would see about that.

"Well...if you can't let me through, then courtesy only dictates you must entertain me," Finn proudly announced, puffing out his chest as the two knights exchanged a glance. "'Tis only fair, as my servant is unavailable."

For a moment, the two guards said nothing, but they inevitably seemed to resign to the idea; at least, the more serious and less nervous of the two certainly did, and the other followed suit.

"As you command, Prince Finnigan." The grey-furred, serious canine bowed his head and put a hand to his chest area, a simple salute as a sign of respect. Finn had to swallow down the triumphant smirk that danced across his lips before he made a gesture, puffing out his chest beneath his loose silk shirt.

"Then come. I fancy a stroll in the hedge maze." His father had put it in place a handful of years ago to serve as something entertaining for guests who came to the castle, as well as something for his son. Finn spent a lot of time in there for one reason or another; it was a place of solace for him, and the centre of it was somewhere very few managed to get to. Only he knew the entire maze like the back of his hand.

At his insistence, and two guards couldn't do much but follow him down the narrow hallway of the castle's wing and out into the foyer, where they descended through the castle and headed towards the back, following a wide, ornate path that would normally lead them to the throne room, only a set of double doors off to the side instead brought them to the back of the castle and by extension the gardens beyond.

"Follow me." Finn was clear in his command and neither knight defied him as they stepped into the hedge maze. He could see from their expressions that there was a sense of curiosity; Finn guessed that neither of them had actually been here before, though that didn't surprise him-- only he used this place, along with Jaxon on occasion. He knew this place well enough to get to the centre easily, and he knew that his father wasn't one to use this place-- it belonged predominantly to his mother, but he didn't know her well enough to have fond memories of the place with her. Their journey brought them to the centre after a handful of minutes, and the knights came face to face with a delicate white gazebo situated within the middle of the maze, ivy and flowers draping off the pillars and ceiling, giving the delicate white chairs and tables inside an air of mystery. Flowers bloomed around the gazebo all the way up to the walls of the hedge maze, but there was a neat path that had been carefully cut through them, the stems of flowers snipped to give space.

For a moment there was silence between the three of them, though not for any particular reason; the two guards were waiting for Finn to speak or do what he wanted, and Finn in turn was thinking, his mind churning with thoughts of what he wanted to do as he stepped forward and followed the grass path up to the gazebo, taking slow but measured steps. A smile crept upon his young royal muzzle when he began to have an idea. 

"So...are the two of you going to introduce yourselves? Seems only fair, since you know my name and all..." The prince threw the question over his shoulder as he reached up towards his frilly top, the collar parted a little to reveal some of his chest. He danced his fingers down, loosening what few buttons there were, out of sight of the two knights who exchanged a glance.

"Knight Patroclus, sire." The black-furred one, the more skittish of the two, bowed as he spoke his name, and the other sighed briefly in response.

"Knight Booke, Your Highness." The other added, his brow remaining furrowed. His grey fur made him look older and Finn cast a glance at them, examining their features...his guess at first glance seemed about right.

He could hear their collective shock as the pup pulled his shirt up and over his head, exposing his pristine white fur, that of pure nobility, and boyish young back to them. If he had to guess, without looking, the skittish one was probably more flustered, and the other could care less, but was still unsettled. When he turned slightly, he was more or less right-- Patroclus was already looking away and avoiding staring, whilst the other knight was steadfast. The difference in their experience was obvious at a glance, and most of that was probably down to age.

"It would be unbecoming of my knights to be overdressed for an occasion such as this, wouldn't it?" He suggested with a coy smile, and neither knight rose to the provocation easily, finding excuses for not doing so-- though, one was more verbal than the other.

"I feel the opposite may be more imperative, Prince." Booke has a relatively quick tongue, and despite his words, his expression didn't change even an inch.

"Are you disobeying a direct order, Knight?" Finn widened his eyes slightly and hardened his jaw over his shoulder-- it wasn't his style, but he found it got the job done. He'd seen his father do it a few times when Finn was allowed in court, and the withering gaze from someone who had the entire weight of the kingdom on their shoulders did wonders for his father; he couldn't recall a time when he hadn't gotten his way when using it. For Finn, this time was no different; Booke stared at him for a moment, but seemed to resign to it.

"As you command." The knight turned, and Finn could see Patrocolus becoming hesitant as the other knight unabashedly unlooped his belt from around his waist, taking it off along with his sword and scabbard. It let it lean up against the hedge wall nearby, and with some effort began to pluck at the tightened buckles that kept his armour fastened neatly to his body. It wasn't a flattering sight to see him straining, but it would have been more unbecoming for Finn to assist, much as he would have liked to.

Instead, Finn's attention turned to the other flustered canine. Patroclus hadn't even begun to remove his armour; all he could do was look from Finn to Booke and back again, stammering, torn between his duty as a knight and the orders of his superior-- Prince though he was, his word was law when his father wasn't around, even in situations like these.

"Ser Patrocolus, perhaps you could help Ser Booke out of his armour...and him in kind." He planted the seed of suggestion, but the canine took it more like a command; he gulped, but did as instructed, and the older canine lifted his arm to allow Patrocolus to assist. Finn pretend not to watch them for a while, though his ears did twist to listen to the sounds of them undressing. He feigned an air of indifference, for now, padding across the grass to the gazebo until he reached the lip of the steps leading up, just a couple. He ascended and then turned, leaning against one of the pillars just in time to see the last of their chest armour fall free. Booke had already discarded his and placed it near his sword, whilst Patrocolus bowed to scramble and collect it together. The plates of metal looked heavy, but there was no chainmail underneath; all the two knights wore were tight leather jerkins, no doubt with a cloth undergarment beneath to avoid chafing. Compared to Finn, they were sorely overdressed.

"More," He demanded, turning again as he looked over his shoulder. "I'll be waiting up here."

He could already hear one of them grumbling something as he slipped past the vines and ivy and disappeared inside, though it wasn't like he was completely obscured by the flowers and foliage-- they could still clearly see him, and he could in kind, but he thought it'd be more fun to make a game of it and add an air of mystery, if only because it was cute to see the less experienced knight grow flustered. 

He didn't have to wait too long, thankfully; after a few minutes of him waiting ever so patiently, the first of the two ducked in under the ivy, and the Prince turned to take them in. The first to join him was Booke, and he had gone above and beyond; he'd ditched all his armour completely, and stood before the royal pup with nothing but his pants on-- he'd even gone so far as to remove his shirt, since Finn had done the same. Patroclus was not far behind, but he looked sheepish to be topless amongst the gardens, and made a point of covering his chest with both hands. They were cute; Booke was older, middle-aged, and had a battle-hardened body riddled with scars that left messy streaks of furless patches in his torso, but Patroclus was an inexperienced guy roughly the same age as Jaxon, and hadn't seen nearly as much battle-- he was slimmer, more athletically inclined, but still had scars on his right shoulder and forearm.

"The right isn't your dominant shoulder, Ser Patrocolous?" Finn tilted his head to the side, red eyes dancing up and down the scars. "A left-handed swordsman...interesting."

"M-Merely a defect, Your Highness. I'm...more than capable." The knight mumbled, feeling put on the spot, and Booke cleared his throat, getting the cub's attention. Finn turned to look at him and smirked slightly when he saw that the older canine looked a little annoyed, but also nervous.

"Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Your Grace, but..." He trailed off for a moment as Finn squinted at him. "...What is the purpose of this?"

"The purpose?" The white-furred boy tilted his head to the side again and shifted, sliding off of the chair he'd been sitting on so that he could step around the table and pull himself up onto it, sitting on its edge. He leant back to show himself off, all his slight chubbiness and stocky limbs, before he lifted a hand and made a beckoning gesture, slowly and deliberately curling his finger to encourage the more experienced knight closer. It was clear Booke didn't particularly want to, but when Finn didn't let up even after several seconds, he exhaled sharply through his nose and took a few steps forward to close the distance. When he was finally in arms reach, Finn did something that shocked them both; he reached out and ran his hand down the front of Booke's chest, trailing along the length of his scars, feeling them out with his fingers, guided by the grooves.

"Just some company. Entertainment. A way to pass the time, to ease the boredom..." Finn muttered. "Father's not looked this way in months. Trouble on the Northern borders has captured his attention; I'm sure you've heard. I've a wonderful servant to keep me company most days, but alas...you have been guarding his chambers as he recuperates from an untimely illness."

Neither of the two men replied as Finn absently followed his own finger with his eyes as he spoke, his voice low and hushed, filled with an odd sincerity.

"A boy can get lonely. He will recover, but in the meantime...someone else must fill the void," He pointedly explains, briefly sucking in a breath to sigh mid-monologue. "Your scars, Ser Booke. You have been on the battlefield often?"

"Many were from sparring, actually," He admits. "We used to train with real swords back then, to keep our edge. After the treaty, things changed."

"Even this one?" Finn asked, following the length of a vertical cut that wobbled and bent across the canine's chest and down his stomach, all the way toward his hip-- the scar weaved so intricately around the exotic pattern of black markings across his grey fur, highlighting it even more. "Such a crude cut, it's not even straight."

"That one..." Finn didn't notice, but Booke's face soured slightly. "Barbarian raider from the Nothern Hinterlands. We were ambushed in the night and I didn't have time to put on armour; their steel cut straight through the leather."

"Ghastly," Finn remarked. "So, when did you become a Palace Guard?"

"Some 3 winters ago, when my wife had our daughter." It felt like he dropped that bit of exposition on purpose, but Finn didn't even pay it any mind; he hummed along with Booke's words as his hand drifted down, following the line of that long scar right to its end, where his small digit hovered mere inches from the taut, tied waist of his cloth pants, fastened up by a crude, cheap cord. He wordlessly wriggled his finger down and slipped it between the cloth and the fur, and relished the fact that Booke didn't even flinch at his touch.

Patroclus seemed to want to say something, but he couldn't even muster a word as the young Prince tugged on the side he was sneaking into, and he couldn't help but lick his lips when he got to see the athletic curvature of the canine's 'gutter'-- the crease between his pelvic area and his masculine thigh. It was a delight to look at, but it was hard for him to tell if Booke was actually okay with it or not...not that it mattered though; lusting after a married man had its own quirks. Should a 10-year-old know what it's like to commit adultery? He shouldn't.

"You are aware of what you're doing, aren't you, Your Highness?" Booke asked, his voice low, mixed with something familiar, tangible. Finn tugged just a little further, enough to see the beginnings of the fluff that sat atop the knight's adult groin.

"I am. Neither of us are fools, I would think. Another, however..." Finn cast his gaze across, just for a moment, before bringing it back. "You would indulge the whims of your Prince, wouldn't you, Ser Booke?"

"...If you command it." There was a hard edge to the canine's tone that was both exhilarating and uncomfortable to the Prince. He felt guilt, but also desire, enough to make his body tingle. He pulled back his hand, slipping it free from the waistband of those pants, and drifting to the cord that kept them so tightly fastened to the athletic knight's waist. He slowly pulled on one end, watching as the string loosened its crudely twisted knot, and it delighted him further to see Booke just stand there and let him do as he wished. The loop of the cord slipped from the knot, and the cloth sagged; moments later, the garments dropped, passing Booke's knees and drooping all the way to his ankles, leaving everything on full display.

Before him was an impressive man; riddled with scars, lean and ageing, but between his legs...now that was a site to behold. Just his tantalising words and mild groping seemed to have elicited a reaction from Ser Booke's body, despite his serious expression and standoffish presence. His member, humanoid and thick, had swelled to a semi-erect shape, but it had no power to its own lift-- instead, it sat sagged against his balls, the tip of it and a good portion of the length clear past the bottom end of his sack. Finn could see it twitching every so often, now that it was out in the open, and he leant back to take in the sight of it as the other, more inexperienced knight spluttered and awkwardly kept to the back, as if he were hoping to not be seen. There was a raw, intoxicating ruggedness to him, his age intermingled with that well-kept body lined with rich, exotic markings. The mixture of protruding bone and lean muscle all framing a frankly mouth-watering cock...for once in his life, Finn was momentarily speechless, but he eventually found his voice.

"I can see why you have a wife." It was a blunt compliment, but Finn couldn't conjure anything more flowery amongst all the raw desire he felt brewing in his gut. He shuffled forward atop the sleek table, aware he was already sitting on the edge, but he was mostly adjusting the get comfortable as he reached out a hand, leaning forward. The urge to touch was great, but for a moment Finn hesitated, his hand hovering mere inches from that delicious length, before he instead reached over to the knight's hand. He grasped it, rather firmly at that, and lifted his hand up to direct it closer to him. Ser Booke didn't resist his touch, not even when Finn dared to tug the older male's hand forward, until claws and fingertips brushed his royal fur.

"Your Highness..." It was interesting to see Booke grow even just a little nervous from a simple movement, and though it didn't show too much on his face, it was clear from his tone...at least to Finn, who had been carefully observing every minor detail.

"I permit you to touch me," Finn insisted, putting a tilt on his voice, being coy. "You want to, don't you?"

It was a bit too much to ask him of that, and Finn knew he wouldn't get a response anyway. The older knight, however, didn't tug his hand away as Finn pulled it closer, quietly admiring the difference in the size of their hands as he urged the older canine to press the full weight of his palm to his chest. He could feel a moment of hesitation, where Booke's hand withdrew for just a hair's breadth of a moment, before he pressed back down, his digits ever so slightly curling to encourage the tips of his claws against the prince's skin.

It was different than when it was with Jaxon. His servant was quite skittish, even with the amount of time they'd done it together; even the most recent times he'd coerced him into sex, Jaxon had always been the one to be led, rather than taking the lead-- he and Patroclus were very much alike. But Booke...his touch was purposed, despite being guided. Finn wasn't sure if he was actually intrigued, or if he was merely used to satisfying the whims of royalty, but there was something about the way he brushed his hand willingly down the prince's small chest, toward his stomach, that elicited a reaction from the pup. He found himself practically quivering with interest. Though he should have let Booke 'explore' at his own leisure, he was impatient, and a little bit riled-up, from the way the knight was acting; he directed his larger hand down with a boyish tug, until his wrist brushed against the linen of his pants.

"U...Undress me." Finn struggled to get the words out initially, his confidence wavered, and Booke didn't hesitate this time. He lifted and angled his hand until his fingers brushed the front of Finn's pants, and he pinched the cord between two fingers, tugging on it until it loosened completely. One hand wasn't going to be enough, however, and Finn deliberately brought his hands back so that Booke would have to actually pull his garments down, a tickle of amusement on his young muzzle when Book stepped forward to get closer, his other hand lifting. At that moment, it was just the two of them; Finn was mildly aware of Patroclus hovering in the back, but his eyes were on Booke, on those rugged hands approaching his supple, royal flesh.

Finn's breath hitched and a boyish tremble passed through him as Booke's hand brushed to the side, a thumb deliberately and slowly tucking into the gap between the prince's sagging garments and his soft white fur, and the 10-year-old lifted his hips, allowing the knight to tug on one side, with each firmness that the linen passed over the pup's rump, and revealing all that laid bare beneath. There was a tickle of embarrassment and a rush of exhilaration when the prince's cock was revealed, for it was already so achingly hard, bouncing wildly up and down with obvious lust and enjoyment as Booke's eyes fell upon it. Prince Finn was most certainly not desperate, but he didn't want to come across that way, what with how aroused he so clearly was. Booke lingered for only a moment, as if resolving himself to their act, before he pulled further, letting the hybrid's garments pass his knees, where he relinquished his grip and allowed them to drop all the way to the cub's paws.

"Does my body entice you, Ser Booke?" Finn asked, and he could see the knight trying to formulate a response. The pup couldn't help but smirk at his quietness as he spread and angled his legs, teetering on the lip of the table as he showed himself off, his paws angled inward as if to frame his young loins, toes curled enticingly. Booke's eyes trailed up and down, his gaze peculiarly searching, and for a moment his eyes lingered down on the obvious exposure of the Prince's private parts. When he didn't take an immediate step forward, Finn reached out a leg, extending the limb, until his small toes brushed against the side of that length-- he was dexterous enough to tuck the paw beneath, and he quietly delighted at the sight of seeing that cock swing upwards with ease, weighing down on the top of his foot.

Ser Booke didn't seem to know what to say or do, and though his hand had initially reached forward, he withdrew it as Finn toyed with him, putting them behind his back as if dutifully allowing himself to be manhandled. Finn danced his eyes up the man's scarred, exotically-marked body before moving back down to his cock, and he grew intrigued by the very obvious lack of growing arousal; though he touched, lifted and inevitably dragged his little paw along the underside of that cock, it didn't stir of stiffen. What he did like, however, was that the knight pushed his hips forward, ever so slightly, to let the foreskin hugging around the head of his cock peel back, pointed directly in the prince's direction.

"Surely you don't find me unworthy, do you, Knight?" Finn asked with a half-genuine twinge to his tone. He could see the knight stiffen and it made the boy's stomach twist with a mixture of glee and guilt.

"Your Highness...you are a child." The knight was blunt in his response, and Finn couldn't reprimand him for stating a fact.

"But I still hold rank above you, do I not?" Finn questioned, leaning forward for a moment to grab the knight's hand, bringing it forward again. He linked his digits with Ser Booke's own, for but a fleeting moment, before his hand twisted and his digits slipped, directing the knight by the wrist. He forced the older male to lean forward, to put his hand on his chest, before he directed it up toward his neck. The older man wrapped his fingers around Finn's throat purely on instinct.

"S-Ser Booke, you musn't--" Patroclus was clearly concerned by the behaviour, which in turn elicited a sharp, quick laugh from Finn's lips.

"Enough, Patroclus," He half-snapped, half-snorted, before his gaze fell on the other knight's face, watching the way in which Booke's expression seemed to give nothing away. "If I asked you to pin me down and use me like a prisoner of war, would you?"

"Absolutely not, Your Highness." The answer was quick and simple, without a hint of hesitation. Still, Booke's hand did not falter on the prince's neck. He didn't squeeze, but nor did he part. Finn held to his wrist firmly for a moment before his grip loosened, fingers dancing up until he curled his own hand to slide his fingers parallel to Booke's own.

"Then simply to engage in agreed-upon lust...surely that is less harmful, is it not?" Finn's eyes glinted with a mixture of arousal and interest as, just for a moment, Booke's hand tightened around his throat. It wasn't a warning, merely a reaction to his smaller hand brushing over his own, as if he weren't expecting it. There was a moment of silence before Booke withdrew, and Finn's eyes danced down, vividly aware that his forceful tugging on the knight's hand had brought them closer; even his own legs had instinctively parted to give him room.

"If I ordered you to, would you?" Finn held onto his wrist even as the man withdrew, and Booke's arm hesitated, hovering a few inches from Finn's hammering chest. The digits tremored visibly, but so quickly that Finn almost didn't notice, before Booke relented and pushed his hand forward, sliding it across the prince's side. In that same movement, he took a step forward and his body came closer, enough to tower over the 10-year-old's boyish, semi-stocky frame. Finn's legs wrapped unabashedly against Booke's sides, and his loins tingled, aching with desire.

"...I suppose I cannot refuse a direct order from you, Your Highness." He seemed to cave in, to resign to Finn's advances, and a feeling of triumph surged within the boy as he moved his hand across Booke's arm and up to his neck, pulling him down. A moment of silence fell between them as Finn abruptly brushed his lips to Booke's own, but he was disappointed with the lack of a reaction from that fleeting kiss. He pressed again, this time with purpose, hoping that it may be reciprocated, but all the knight did was part his lips slightly, as if out of obligation, to allow the prince's little tongue to lick across his muzzle and taste the very tip of the knight's own tongue. Finn was pushing it, that he knew-- but he was the kind to take all that he could, if given the opportunity.

"Then take me. Or rather..." The prince squeezed his knees against those manly hips, toes curling with the exertion. "Let me take you."

"It will hurt."

"Not as much as your refusal, Ser Booke." Finn pulled the man's head down again, and that time Ser Booke conceded, brushing his muzzle to the side as he bowed his body and brought his other hand up. Their movements were careful, but Finn could already tell from the way Booke's hands slid across his sides and momentarily cradled him, that he was experienced. One hand dragged down his body, palming across his stomach and deliberately brushing with his young length, making him shudder, before the hand delved further towards his behind. It withdrew, if only so he could grasp his own length and direct it down, and Finn could feel the smear of the tip of it dragging lewdly across his tiny pouch and taint until it aimed for its mark. Booke seemed to be having some trouble getting hard at first, but a few jerks seemed to get him there, and Finn felt the turgidness of it press between his spread cheeks. The young prince tried to angle himself, bowing his body and dragging his behind forward, and in return Booke cupped a hand against his hip, helping to adjust him whilst keeping him on the table. For a moment all Finn could see was the ceiling of the flowery gazebo, before he squinted as a stab of discomfort, mixed with giddy glee, spread across his rump and up his body.

The knight entered him, carefully and slowly, each tender inch that slid into Finn's body marked by a slower withdrawal in an effort to knead the flesh and spread the fluids of the knight's arousal. Had Finn prepared better, he would have brought some kind of lubricant, and from the way the knight reluctantly made love to him, he guessed he thought himself unworthy to use his spit. That suited Finn just fine, for it was clear from those slow withdrawals and gentle, squishing thrusts, that Ser Booke was withholding more attraction than he was letting on; each inch that slid deeper felt easier than before thanks to the pre-cum that spread through the prince's spasming canal, and the deeper the knight pressed, the more Finn trembled, some of it down to exertion, and the rest to eager anticipation. It was different than when it was with Jaxon; he loved his servant dearly, but he was never one for taking the lead. To be so firmly held and penetrated felt like a breath of fresh air...and that, in turn, brought his attention to the other knight who had been patiently and nervously waiting by the side.

"Mmh...Ser Patroclus," Finn sucked in a breath for a moment and restrained the moan that threatened to bubble forth; it felt unsightly to let it show in that moment. "It would be rather rude of me not to urge you to join us."

"O-Oh, Your Highness, I couldn't possibly...it, uh..." He was just as apprehensive as Ser Booke, but he was naive; he thought he held some cards, or even some autonomy.

"That's an order." Finn demanded with a sharp exhale, and he unlinked his hands from around Ser Booke's neck, quickly feeling the knight's hand, once on his cock, shooting up to Finn's back, knowing on instinct where he wanted to be. Finn allowed himself to be lowered in a way that almost felt romantic, and the prince's eyes dragged down his own form to admire the sight of that man between his legs. He couldn't stop himself from licking his lips as those scarred abs and exotically-marked fur between his small limbs, and as Ser Booke pressed a little further, he could feel the small curved bump of that cock inside him. Finn brushed a hand across it as the knight's hands moved to hold his legs, then down to his thighs, as he leaned over. Finn grinned up at him, knowing he looked flushed in that laid-down position, before he turned his head to the side to see the younger knight approaching from the side.

A snort came from the pup's muzzle when he trailed his eyes down and came face to face with an obviously protruding damp spot in the knight's cloth pants. His arousal was so painfully obvious that it made Finn chuckle, and that seemed to make the Knight feel worse about his predicament. His naive face grew flushed in response to the prince's giggle, and he turned his head to look away, keeping his arms against his chest in a way that seemed almost vulnerable.

"Knight Patroclus, you needn't be so--" Finn sucked in a breath when Ser Booke uncharacteristically thrust, causing him to not only wince, but also exhale a sharp, shuddering breath, before he continued. "You needn't be so chaste."

"It's, um...it's just that, you're a prince, Your Highness. To do such things with a lowborn..." The knight shook his head, but he did turn his head slightly in Finn's direction, looking more nervous when he was pinned by the prince's stare. Finn's eyes danced up and down, looking forward to Ser Patroclus's face, then down his body. Compared to Booke, he was slimmer, but still well-built. He was unblemished of scars, but not of bruises, likely from sparring. Where Booke was exotic, Patroclus was simple; he had black fur that specked with brown in the light on occasion, when it hit it just right. Did that mean his fur was brown or black? It didn't matter, for through the fluff, he could see the pink of flesh-- not only at the nipples, but down around his stomach area, too. It was cute, in a way.

"Swallow your pride, Knight," Finn winced again as Booke tugged back, and his ears twisted to the sound of the canine's grunt, elated by the sound. "Drop those garments. That's an order."

Patroclus couldn't deny him, of that Finn was quite sure, and it filled him with a dizzy thrill to have control over older men in such a way. He watched as the younger knight hesitated, before inevitably tugging on the drawstring of his lower garments, letting them loosen and sag before they dropped, held up by that protrusion for just a moment until the canine pulled it down over the tip. Wrapped cloth underwear, tucked and curled around the body, was the only thing separating Finn's eyes from that meat, but Patroclus took his time in undressing, his hands trembling ever so slightly as he unlooped the cloth from around his waist, circling around until it had to tuck under between his legs. Finn would have stared longer, were it not for another sharp thrust that had him briefly swinging his head back to grunt, caught by surprise. Booke was doing a good job of burying himself deep in his young body, but his methods were carnal and raw-- he didn't buck like a wild animal, out of respect for authority, but he still occasionally pushed with just a little too much force, as if spurred on by the pleasurable sensations of a tight hole around his prick.

For a moment or two Finn laid there, his legs tensing with every other tender push of Ser Booke's hips, and his eyes danced between the bodies of the two men, admiring both the slim athleticism of the unblemished Ser Patroclus, and the intoxicatingly attractive Ser Booke, whose expression remained neutral even as he buried his cock deep in the prince's ass. Finn could see every flex of his abs from each thrust, and within the boy's mind, fantasies roamed, some tame and some not: he imagined himself with that chiselled, scarred night on quiet evening, frantically fucking beneath the moonlight; he imagined the knight laid out on a bed, body exposed for him to explore; he even imagined him on his front, with the prince's greedy hands spreading his cheeks to take what he could assume to be the knight's backdoor virginity...such thoughts made his body feel heavy with lust, and it made the sensations of his innards being so vigorously stimulated all the more intense.

And, finally, the prince got to lay his eyes upon it, as Patroclus fully unwrapped his undergarments and kicked off his pants, moving closer to the edge of the table. Unlike Booke, the younger knight's cock was differently shaped, in a way that Finn had seen before with his court magician's apprentice, and that creature he has in tow-- Patroclus's cock is bulbous at the base, with a tapering tip, and it's remarkably long; at least as long as Booke's, though perhaps a little shorter. It was thick, red, veiny...and most of all, it glistened in the light, covered in a slick mess of pre-cum.

Patroclus seemed to enjoy Finn's eager stare as he exposed himself, and when the prince bent to try and get closer, the younger knight tried to climb up onto the table a little, though he avoided actually clambering onto it; instead, he hiked a knee up onto the table, enough for his balls and that swinging, heavy cock to bounce upward, slightly lifted from close to the surface, but he kept his other leg straight and touching the floor. Finn trailed his gaze up and down as Patroclus got into position, and he couldn't help but lick his lips when that cock swung close enough to be mere inches away from his muzzle, awaiting his touch. The knight seemed apprehensive to even bring it closer, and Finn could tell from the way that tip practically leaked pre that he so desperately wanted it. Perhaps, unlike Booke, he had interests beyond scantily clad women...

Finn lifted his muzzle ever so slightly, and stuck out his tongue, tasting the heat of that tapering tip against his tongue. From the corner of his eye, he could see Patroclus push his fingers down on top of his own member to battle angle it, and in turn Finn tried to move his head to get into a better position, his eyes lidding over and looking up at the flustered knight's face when he dragged his tongue across the pre-dripping tip, his stomach twisting with lust when he saw the way that cock wildly throbbed just from a simple lick alone. With his head angled to the side, Booke turned his own head away and continued his thrusts into the prince, remarkably quiet despite the squishing and squelching of his cock plunging back and forth, and his towering body felt warm above Finn's naked form. The pup wrapped his legs around as much as felt possible as every other pound of those hips spiked intense waves of pleasure up his body, and as he pushed his forward, seeing fit to take some of Patroclus's cock in his mouth, the prince stiffened with the growing tension in his body, aware that Booke's body, and the situation alone, was bringing him closer to the edge. Some might think it shameful to be able to cum from another man's touch, but Finn relished it; he'd tried many things, and explored many things, and found it to feel the best.

The younger of the two knights mumbled something that Finn couldn't quite pick up, but from the way Patroclus slightly pushed into his young, awaiting muzzle, Finn could only assume it was compliments and nothing more. With his vision mostly obscured by tight-knot adult bodies, Finn closed his eyes and let himself sink into the sensations of sex, something he had been without for at least a couple of days already thanks to Jaxon's sickness. It took everything within him not to touch himself, but he did at least unloop an arm from around Book's neck and bring it over to the other knight's cock, where his fingers traced along the underside, his digits squished between it and the table, as he felt the knight slide just a little further into his mouth before he caught himself and withdrew, sucking in an apprehensive breath. Ser Patroclus seemed to be anticipating some kind of reprimand, but none came from the pup-- he was too enthralled in bliss to make a comment, and every thrust of Booke's impressive thighs, every plunge of his incredible cock, was sending him closer and closer to the point of no return. He grunted, whimpered and trembled with the exertion of the sex, with the enrapturing feeling of it, to the point where his toes curled and his body turned rigid. Neither knight could ignore those young, high-pitched huffs, whether it turned them on or not.

Then, Finn felt it; a stab shot through his stomach and up his spine, spreading a sparking, body-quaking feeling to every limb. The intense feeling of having that sensitive spot inside him probed and pushed by a stomach-bulging cock suddenly grew heavier and sharper, and it made his body writhe. He arched his back, pulling his mouth away slightly from Patroclus's member so he could pant openly in the air, his eyes fluttering open for a moment as he huffed, letting out quiet moans. His legs clenched as the fingers on his other hand curled against the back of Ser Booke's neck, and his innards flexed, clamping down as tightly as his small body would let him. His member twitched and bounced up and down on his stomach, pushing up against the knight's chiselled abs. The feeling persisted for what felt like only a few seconds, familiar and overwhelming, until a flood of warmth came over him, and his body grew lax. Neither knight had cum, of that he was sure, but pleasure bathed his body in an embrace that felt like he was being cradled by the gods. Little dribbles of royal seed oozed from his tiny member, trickling onto his stomach and mixing seamlessly into his pristine white fur. With each convulsion of his cock, his innards spasmed, gripping around that still thrusting length, coaxing Booke to plunge deeper, to press firmer-- even he, married and with a family, couldn't deny that it must have felt good to have such a whole wrapped around his cock.

"Oh...good gods, that's..." Finn rolled his head back for a moment and took in deep, shallow breaths in the afterglow of the last of his orgasm, needing to gulp every so often, for his mouth was dry. There were no words he could put to the experience that would do it justice; instead, through the clarity of his climax, he felt nothing but an eager possessiveness-- he wanted these knights to be his, and his alone.

He turned his head back to Patroclus, who had been looking at him with a mixture of concern and intrigue, and the boy opened his muzzle, beckoning the knight with his eyes. The adult understood the command without him saying it, and brought his member forward again, teetering awkwardly on one knee as he used his hands to better position his body as well as angle his length, inevitably pushing down on his member to direct it to the prince's muzzle again. Ser Booke, meanwhile, had slowed his thrusts in the wake of Finn's orgasm, but it was hard to tell if that was due to resistance or something else. He tried to pull away after a few moments, but Finn clung to him, tugging him back down, briefly parting himself from Patroclus's length to speak.

"I didn't say you could stop," Finn murmured huskily into the knight's ear. "You want to cum inside me, don't you?"

"Such an act..." Ser Booke tried to argue, but faltered. After a moment, he sighed and dragged his hips back before thrusting forward again, beginning in on his steady rhythm once more. It came with more discomfort than it had the first time, namely due to his young body being overly sensitive, but Finn took it, turned on more by the act of being fucked by him than the actual feeling of pleasure. He looked to that other cock again and swallowed up the tip rather quickly without even a mutter of an apology for taking so long, such was his right, and he heard the younger knight's quiet sight of relief as that member sank an inch or two into the pup's mouth, grazing along his tongue but never reaching the back of his throat.

It was clear to Finn pretty quickly that one of them had stamina and the other did not; Booke could continue thrusting for potentially hours if he staved himself long enough, but Patroclus could barely keep himself together longer than half a minute, and was already lightly stroking the exposed areas of his cock with the very same hand he was using to angle it down to Finn's muzzle. The prince had suspected as much from how stained the front of the knight's lower garments were, but his eagerness all but confirmed that he wouldn't last long at all. It made him wonder how long it'd been since Patroclus had whetted his appetite, but he felt as though he knew the answer without even asking.

"Oooh, Your Highness, oh...!" Just from those words alone, Finn had a pretty good feeling of what was about to come. That tapering cock plunged into his muzzle for a moment, pressing deeper than before and nearing the back of his throat, before a hot, warm wetness splashed down, filling up the dip down into the pup's throat. Finn naturally swallowed and a sharp exhale escaped him, one he could barely get out before the younger knight vocalised a shuddering groan, and another spurt of cum shot into the back of Finn's muzzle. He gulped each vigorous throb dutifully, even as it attempted to pool into the side of his cheek, and though the taste was not nearly as nice, he still swallowed it all.

Patroclus hovered for a few moments longer, daring to sink his hips a little further forward, before he slid back and oozed a trail of cum in the wake of his member, until it popped free from the pup's muzzle. It swung upwards for a moment, sensitive when exposed to the air, before it ultimately sagged as the man slid back, shuffling his knee off from the table. Finn smacked his lips, turning his back up to the knight in front of him, and tilted his head to the sound of a whine, something like shame, coming from the younger knight-- he must feel bad about cumming so quickly, but Finn personally didn't mind...it was kind of cute, actually.

All that was left was Booke, and he was taking his sweet time. It wasn't too hard to gauge what he was feeling and where, but Finn could tell he was slowly working his way up to it, and he knew it must be a combination of factors that was giving him such incredible stamina, or simply a lack of arousal...and one of them is most certainly the very act itself. If anything, it's a wonder he can even remain hard, and that just turns Finn on more...but there's no chance in hell he's going to cum again himself. He's just too spent.

Slowly, Booke started to pick up speed, and Finn surmised from his growing panting and heaving chest that he was finally getting close. The older knight started to lean back, cupping his arms firmly against Finn's hips as his eyes trailed down his young body, and Finn watched him, looking up and down his athletic figure whilst his eyes looked down to those thrusting hips and gripping hands. Finn thought he must look rather nice from above, and didn't quite see the narcissism in it. Instead, all he could do was pant, enduring the sensation of being fucked, stimulated beyond his limit-- when it was just Jaxon, he was so used to stopping when he wanted to-- and he watched as Booke's chest inevitably began to heave, restrained grunts coming from his muzzle.

The knight plunged, hesitating for only a moment, enough for it to be noticeable, before he thrust firmly forward and slowed, burying himself as deep as he could. Finn could see the bulge in his stomach and his eyes twinkled at the sight of it, even more so when it started to throb and pulse, signalling Booke's orgasm-- warmth flooded FInn's loins and crept up his body, inevitably reaching all the way up to his chest, and nothing could stop him from shuddering, albeit rather subtly, from the feeling. Maybe it was because he was lying down against the cool, shaded table, but it felt a lot warmer than he was anticipating.

He watched as Booke sagged, leaning over the prince's small body, and he hovered there for a moment before he seemed to come to his senses and withdrew, pulling back. He winced for a moment when the pup noticeably grunted from the discomfort, but quickly pulled the rest of himself out of the boy's body, to save him any more pain. The noise of him slipping free was enough to make Finn remember it for at least the next few weeks, if not more.

A silence fell over them, but not for any particular reason; in the aftermath of their sex, Finn knew they were no doubt waiting for 'orders', for some kind of suggestion on what to do next. Were it any other situation, he was certain that Booke would have something to weigh in, but he was peculiarly silent. What was delightful, however, was that neither sought their clothes, even as Finn pushed himself onto a sitting position, cum leaking from his hole and oozing onto the table. He folded one leg over the other as he examined them, his eyes naturally trailing down, looking at all the important parts.

"You two..." Finn murmured, a wicked grin spreading across his lips. "I'll have to keep you two. Come; let's get dressed and go inside. I've more uses for the two of you in my room."

He watched as the two knights exchanged a quick glance, unsure what to say. Neither knight knew what was in store for them in the future, now that the Prince had his clutches around them.