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The Valet

By: SapphireBlueMist



~ This is my first story for this site - all content is original and purely fictional. I enjoyed writing it, and hope that you will enjoy reading it. Feedback would be much appreciated so that I can decide whether to write a second part. Thanks! Sapphire ~



Jason sighed as he straightened his jacket, making sure there were no creases in the uniform. He'd managed to get a summer job at the Royal Palace this year, and although he knew he was lucky to have a job, he just wished it didn't mean acting like a servant so much. The last week or so had been really busy in preparation for the annual Summer Feast, where the country's royalties got together to basically have a rich people's party. The feast was set to take place on Saturday, and the first guests would be arriving today. Jason had been reassigned from his usual duties to act as a valet of sorts to some duke or another. Needless to say, he wasn't looking forward to taking care of an old man's demands. But the pay was good, and he'd be out of here come September.

Jason forced a smile onto his face and examined his reflection. His dark brown hair always looked unkempt, no matter how much he brushed, straightened or gelled it. Eventually, he'd given up trying to tame it and now it flopped down across his forehead. He'd been forced to cut it before starting the job because the housekeeper Mrs Hughes had insisted that it would obscure his vision. Jason smiled at the memory, and his bright green eyes lit up with amusement. He'd often been told that his smile was to die for; girls swooned over it – well, at least until they realised he wasn't interested in them. As for guys, suffice it to say that it worked for them too. Jason took a deep breath and stood up straight. At 5' 11" he wasn't the tallest guy, but he wasn't short either. He had an athletic build which was enhanced by regular rowing and running, and had smooth, tanned skin thanks to his mum's Spanish roots. Overall, Jason was a pretty good-looking guy. 

Pleased with his reflection, he headed down the sweeping staircase to await the arrival of the guests along with the rest of the staff. As he took his place in the line, Mrs Hughes gave him an approving nod and several of the girls threw him their most dazzling smiles. He smiled back politely and quickly turned to face the entrance. Although Jason was out, he'd thought it best not to tell anyone at the Palace in case news reached the wrong ears. 

Soon, the sound of tyres crunching on gravel could be heard and a Rolls Royce glided to a halt before the open doors. The chauffeur stepped out and opened the door for the passengers, just as the Prince came down the stairs to welcome the guests. Jason craned his neck to get a good look at them – he would be their manservant for the next few days after all. First out of the car was a relatively old man with grey hair and a stern face, who was announced as the Duke of Camber. His son followed him out of the car and Jason caught his breath. Standing on the steps of the palace looking thoroughly out of place was probably the cutest guy Jason had ever seen. He had short, sandy blonde hair and piercingly bright blue eyes which seemed to sparkle with amusement. Jason estimated that he was about 5,10", and judging from his bulging pecs, he was pretty built. Whilst the Duke of Camber was dressed head to toe in formal attire, his son slouched against the car in jeans and a fitted t-shirt, a jacket casually slung over his shoulder. 

Jason reminded himself to keep breathing and tore his eyes away just as Mrs Hughes beckoned him forward. 

"This is Jason, he'll be your valet during your stay here. Anything you need, just ask him," she said by way of introduction.

The Duke's gaze swept over Jason and he appeared to approve because he stretched his lips into what supposedly resembled a smile and extended his hand. 

"Nice to meet you, Jason," he said in a raspy voice. "May I introduce my son as well, Alex."

Alex leapt lightly up the steps, and took Jason's hand in a firm grip. 

"Hey man," he grinned. "What's up?"

Jason tried to keep the surprise off his face at Alex's informal manner and returned the handshake. 

"Jason will show you to your suite and your baggage will be brought up shortly," announced Mrs Hughes. 

"Follow me," said Jason, leading the way upstairs. As they passed the line of staff, Jason saw Alex winking at several of the girls who all began to giggle. Despite himself, Jason felt a twinge of disappointment which he quickly squashed with ridicule. A good-looking guy, who also happened to be a member of the royal family, would never be gay. Fact. 

Once Jason had finished his duties for the Duke and Alex, he headed downstairs to the staff's quarters in search of a drink. 

"Steady mate, it's not even lunch time yet," said a voice near his shoulder.

Jason turned to find his friend Sam grinning and indicating the gin and tonic in his hand. Jason smiled.

"Yeah exactly, that's why I'm saving the valium for later."

Sam snorted. "That bad huh? What's the son like? I bet that 'hey man' attitude is just a show – he's a stuck-up posh boy at heart."

"Yeah, I guess so," said Jason. Whilst he'd been helping Alex and his father, he hadn't really got that impression, but he decided to remain quiet until he'd seen more. Sam would probably be proven right. 

"Anyway, Mrs Hughes needs some furniture shifted upstairs so when you're done getting drunk, come give us a hand," said Sam, and he disappeared through the door. 

The rest of the day saw the arrival of another five royal families, each seemingly more pompous than the previous one. Jason didn't get much of a chance to examine them as he was busy running errands for Mrs Hughes who appeared to have gone into overdrive. He couldn't wait until 7 o clock when dinner would be served and the work would shift to the kitchen staff. 

At 6.15, all valets were instructed to attend to their respective families so Jason made his way to the Duke of Camber's suite. As he approached, he heard raised voices and paused outside the door to listen. 

"...disgrace! Presenting yourself like that, you could be mistaken for a servant! I won't have this from you. You are my son, and the future Duke of Camber, and you will act appropriately!" Jason realised that the Duke was referring to Alex's behaviour this morning, and he quickly lowered the fist with which he'd been about to knock. Now did not seem like a good time to interrupt.

"Or what Dad? Will you strip me of my title? Please, go ahead, I could ask for nothing more," came Alex's defiant reply.

"You shameless boy!" roared his father. "I have given you everything in life, and this is how you show your appreciation? You will obey me, and you will behave, or you can say goodbye to your studies in America!"

Before Jason could react, he heard footsteps pounding across the floor and the door to the suite flew open. The Duke did not even spare him a glance before making his way down the corridor, his face red with rage. Jason took a deep breath and then knocked lightly on the open door before glancing inside. 

"I just came to see if you needed anything before dinner," he began hesitantly. Alex's back was turned to him and Jason wondered if he might be crying, but when he spoke, his voice was firm and clear.

"Yeah, if you could just find my dinner jacket for me, that would be great. I think it's in that blue case."

Jason began sorting through the clothes, trying to resist looking at Alex, which proved to be far more difficult than he would have liked. Eventually, he found the jacket and turned to see Alex standing in front of the mirror looking somewhat bemused. He caught Jason's eye through the reflection and gave a sheepish smile. 

"This damned bow tie – I've never mastered how to tie one. Normally, my mum does it for me."

Jason was surprised at his honesty – most guys wouldn't have admitted to that. 

"Here, let me help you," he said. He placed the jacket on the bed and went to stand in front of Alex. His earlier estimation had been quite accurate – Alex was just slightly shorter than him. He noticed how hot Alex looked in his formal attire, and quickly forced himself to focus on the task at hand. He took the tie from Alex, ignoring the tingle he felt when their hands made contact, and looped it around his neck. As he folded the cloth into the complicated knot, he could feel Alex's gaze on him but kept his own eyes on the tie. He finished, pulling the knot tight, and straightened the bow. 

"There," he said quietly, and finally raised his gaze to look at Alex. The passion burning in Alex's eyes made Jason's heart leap, and he felt his dick twitch. For a moment, neither of them moved, and it felt as though time had stopped. Just as Jason was thinking that he should probably step back before the bulge in his trousers grew more obvious, Alex leaned forward and kissed him softly on the lips. For a second, Jason was stunned and stood paralysed. He could hear Alex's rapid breathing, and his own heart was thumping in his chest. 

"Umm, what...?" he stuttered.

"Shh," said Alex, placing a finger on his lips. Jason shivered, and Alex kissed him again, this time more assertively. Jason gave in to his desires and kissed Alex back, revelling in the heat that was slowly spreading through his body and pooling somewhere near his groin. He felt Alex's hands circling his waist under his jacket, and he buried his own hands in Alex's soft hair. Jason heard Alex moan and pulled him closer as Alex ran his tongue along his lips, seeking entry. Jason granted it willingly, and he felt Alex's tongue exploring his mouth, tasting him. Jason's hard-on was obvious by now, and he could feel Alex's erection against his thigh as well. He shifted, rubbing his dick against Alex's, and even through their clothes, it was enough. Alex groaned and shoved Jason up against the wall before resuming the kiss with wild fervour. He bit Jason's lower lip and the sharp pain sent shivers down Jason's spine. 

Jason pulled back and traced a line of soft kisses along Alex's chiselled jaw to his ear. Then he gently sucked on Alex's earlobe before moving down to his throat. Jason heard Alex sigh, and felt his warm breath along the nape of his neck. He smiled, realising how much Alex was enjoying this, and gently sucked at the pulse in his throat. At the same time, he slid his hands down Alex's torso towards his crotch, feeling the muscles ripple under his hands. As Jason began to undo the belt, Alex suddenly stiffened. Afraid that this beautiful moment was going to end before it had even started, Jason brushed his lips softly against Alex's to gauge his feelings. Almost immediately, Alex relaxed and kissed Jason again. For a moment, Jason temporarily forgot where he was as Alex's tongue did wonderful things in his mouth, and then he felt Alex push against him, aching for more contact. Jason was more than happy to oblige, and swiftly unbuttoned Alex's flies before attending to his own. Their trousers slipped down to bunch around their ankles, and the thud of the belts on the floor made Alex break the kiss. 

He held Jason's gaze, and once again, Jason was swept away by the intensity of it. Then, to Jason's astonishment, Alex sank down onto his knees so that his face was level with Jason's covered cock. With agonising slowness, Alex gradually pulled down Jason's boxers, as though he was unwrapping a precious gift. Inch by inch, Jason's stiff cock came into view. He was so hard by now that his cock was throbbing with desire, and as Alex finally removed his boxers completely, it sprang straight up. For a second Alex did nothing, but just as Jason was about to say or do something (or possibly even cum there and then), Alex's tongue darted out and he quickly licked the precum that was dribbling out of Jason's cock. Jason almost came at once as pure pleasure shot through his body, but he leaned against the wall for support and, closing his eyes, forced himself to hold back. 

The wet warmth of Alex's mouth around his dick came so quickly that Jason was surprised and his dick jumped. Alex pulled back hesitantly, but then when Jason didn't move, he sank lower, taking most of Jason's 8-inch cock into his mouth. Jason was amazed, and he moaned and thrust forward slightly, pushing himself further into Alex mouth. He felt the tip of his cock at the back of Alex's mouth and it felt so fucking good. Alex pulled back again and Jason almost protested before he realised that Alex knew what he was doing. Alex's withdrawal had purpose, as he allowed his full lips to massage Jason's cock from base to tip. When he reached the head, he flicked his tongue around it before sinking back down on Jason. A the same time, he brought his hands up and gently cupped Jason's balls, first stroking and then gently tugging them.

The combination of the sucking and tugging was almost too much for Jason, and he began to thrust harder. Suddenly, Alex's hands withdrew from his balls and Jason opened his eyes to see what had happened. What he saw was his undoing. Alex had pulled his own boxers down and was vigorously rubbing his own erection whilst sucking on Jason's cock. 

"Fuuuuck," breathed Jason slowly. Alex must have heard because his sucking became more intense.

"Oh yeah, I like that," Jason moaned, and he felt Alex's response on his dick. Jason glanced down again to see Alex staring up at him with those bright blue eyes, his red lips encased around Jason's throbbing dick. It was too much. Jason thrust forward again and just about managed to grunt,

"I'm going to cum." 

Then, he gasped as he began to experience a powerful orgasm, and shot his first load into Alex's waiting mouth. Alex had barely swallowed before Jason spurted more cum into him. Even as he did so, Alex jerked and began to cum himself, his seed spraying all over Jason's legs. Alex continued to swallow Jason's cum until there was no more, and then gently licked the last few drops off Jason's dick. Jason looked down and saw Alex massaging his own cock to completion. If Jason hadn't been so exhausted by what was definitely one of the most exhilarating blow-jobs of his life, the sight would have been enough to give him another hard-on.

Feeling Jason's gaze on him, Alex grinned up at him wickedly and then got to his feet. 

"That was amazing," he said, stroking Jason's cheek.

"Yeah," Jason muttered. Then he caught sight of the clock on the opposite wall.

"Shit, it's five to seven! You have to go down for dinner!" 

Alex's eyes widened. "Oh crap!" He quickly pulled up his trousers, which had miraculously remained clean throughout the whole thing. "Feel free to clean up in the bathroom," he said, indicating Jason's semen-covered legs. Before Jason could reply, Alex had grabbed his jacket from the bed and dashed out of the door, leaving Jason standing in the middle of the suite feeling somewhat bewildered, his soft dick hanging limply between his legs.

The Valet Ch. 02



~ Thanks for all your advice and votes on the first part of this story. Here's the second part - hope it's even better! Again, feedback would be appreciated. Sapphire ~

*

The next morning, Jason woke up with a pounding headache. He groaned and rolled over, and his morning immediately took a turn for the worse. Not only had he overslept, but he'd had a wet dream - evidenced by the large damp patch on his sheets. He sighed. For heaven's sake, he wasn't a horny teenager anymore. He threw off the covers and stumbled into the shower, where the hot jets of water slowly began to wake him up. He cast his mind back to the events of the previous evening. After he and Alex had...well, whatever that had done, Jason had found Sam and they'd hit the nearest bar. Several shots and too many cocktails later, Jason had made his way home after realising that no amount of alcohol was going to help him with the whirlwind of emotions coursing through his body. 

That he was attracted to Alex was obvious - the thought of his soft hair and bulging muscles alone gave Jason butterflies. But was the feeling mutual? And did Alex's dad know about his son's preference for guys? There was also the major question which scared Jason so much that he didn't even want to think about it. What if Alex wasn't gay, and had just been experimenting or messing around? But then Jason remembered how hard Alex had been - there was no way he could have faked that. 

The memory of Alex's warm mouth around his cock began to arouse Jason again, and as he recalled Alex's beauty, his cock began to stiffen. Slowly he ran his hand down his torso and then gripped his lengthening member, massaging it softly and then with increased urgency as he thought of the duke's son giving himself the same treatment. Before Jason knew it, his balls tightened and he braced himself against the shower wall as he came, grunting and thrusting his hips as semen spurted out of him in thick, white ropes. It had been a while since Jason had brought himself to a climax so quickly, which only meant one thing. He was falling for Alex.

By the time Jason had cleaned himself up properly and semi-jogged it to the palace, he was half an hour late and Mrs Hughes was not impressed. She sent him straight down to the laundrette to collect new sheets for the Duke of Camber's suite. Jason swallowed. He wasn't sure if he was ready to face Alex yet. 

"Will I be assisting the Duke and his son all day?" he asked in what he hoped was a neutral voice. 

"I've been informed that the Duke will be in meetings all day, and the Prince has taken his son out hunting. They're not due to return until the evening. Don't worry though, I have plenty of other chores to keep you busy," replied Mrs Hughes.

"Glad to hear it!" said Jason, a huge smile of relief breaking out on his face. Mrs Hughes gave him a strange look and he hurried off before she decided to lecture him on the honours of serving a royal family. 

Thankfully, it seemed as though Mrs Hughes's source of information had been accurate -- Jason was not summoned by his charges all day. And true to her word, Mrs Hughes kept him busy sweeping floors, preparing more suites, carrying up luggage for yet more guests and at one point, she even threatened to make him polish all the silverware when he teased her about going overboard for the upcoming feast. 

Later in the day, Jason was making his way across the main hallway when he heard cheerful voices drifting through the open front doors. He glanced out and his stomach flipped as he recognised the Prince and Alex walking up the driveway. The setting sun was casting a soft orange glow over the men, and as Alex laughed at something the prince had said, he looked positively angelic. Jason was so lost in admiring the duke's son that he didn't think to make himself scarce before he was forced to talk to Alex and by the time he realised this, it was too late. Alex stepped through the doorway and caught sight of Jason. A flurry of emotions flickered across his face -- Jason recognised surprise, joy and a hint of fear. Before he could say anything though, the prince followed behind him and catching sight of Jason, said,

"Ah, that's your valet! He'll run you a hot bath, God knows you're going to need it after the way you rode today." He clapped Alex on the back and after an expectant look at Jason, strode off in the opposite direction. 

There wasn't much Jason would have refused to do for Alex as he stood there looking flushed from the exercise, spattered in mud, wearing tight form-fitting breaches and knee-high riding boots. Alex cleared his throat but Jason spotted a maid heading towards them and before the duke's son could say anything damning, he quickly stepped forward. 

"I'll run you that bath then, shall I?" he asked, and leapt up the stairs without glancing back to see if Alex was following, or indeed waiting to hear if he even wanted a bath. 

The tub was almost full and the bathroom was hot and steamy before Alex ventured in, and Jason was relieved and only slightly disappointed that he was still fully clothed. He avoided eye contact as he pretended to test the temperature of the water and add some more bubble soap before turning off the taps and turning round. He found Alex staring straight at him, the same intense expression on his face that Jason was growing to love. 

"Look Jason, about yesterday..." Alex began. He glanced away then, and shifted from one foot to the other. Jason realised that he clearly wasn't very experienced with this, but decided that he wasn't going to help him out. This was his chance to get some answers, and he wanted to hear what Alex had to say. Eventually, Alex broke the silence again.

"I don't really know what came over me, to be honest. It's just, you're a really good-looking guy and I'm a risk taker so I thought I'd try my chances. I'm glad I did." Here, Alex grinned, and Jason's heart soared with hope. 

"But it was a one off, obviously...it can't happen again," he continued, and Jason suddenly felt as though he'd been stabbed. "I'm usually straight you see."

Jason stared at Alex, not really seeing him, as his words sunk in. Then he realised that Alex had fallen quiet and was waiting for a response.

"Right, yeah," Jason mumbled. The bathroom suddenly seemed too small and confined for the two of them. "I'll be back in an hour to drain the tub," he said, and pushed past Alex as he all but ran from the bathroom. Out in the cool hallway, Jason took several deep breaths to calm himself down. He felt angry and betrayed, even though he knew that he was being over-sensitive. He'd had one-night stands before, and he'd been perfectly happy to move on from those without any expectations. So what was going on here? Jason ran his hands through his hair, a sense of frustration building up inside him. He'd known nothing serious could ever happen with Alex -- besides anything else, he was royalty. It was stupid to have read into the previous evening's events, they'd only given him false hopes. 

An hour later, Jason dragged his feet upstairs to the Duke's suite. He knocked and heard Alex call, 'Come!' Gladly, for you, thought Jason as he entered the room. Alex was standing facing the window, but turned as Jason entered. He was wearing nothing but a bathrobe and his hair was tousled and damp from his bath. Jason swallowed and, feeling his dick twitch, he quickly headed straight for the bathroom. He drained the tub and removed the various bottles of products from the side. As he went to replace them in the cupboard, he glanced in the mirror and saw Alex leaning against the doorway, watching him. They held each other's gaze for a moment before Alex spoke. 

"Do I make you nervous?"

Jason raised an eyebrow. Time to exercise his lying skills. 

"Not particularly," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I guess after yesterday, I'm just a bit unsure of where I stand with you." He closed the cupboard and took a step towards Alex. "Do I make you nervous?"

Alex smiled and Jason's heart melted at how cute this guy was.

"No," said Alex in a husky voice. "You make me hard." 

He closed the distance between them and planted his lips on Jason's. For a second, Jason resisted because he knew that to Alex, this was just a bit of fun, but as Alex's hands ran through his hair and pulled him closer, Jason gave in. He wrapped his arms around Alex and returned the kiss with equal passion, forcing his tongue inside Alex's mouth and exploring every inch of it. Alex groaned and slipped off Jason's jacket before tugging at his shirt collar. Jason broke off the kiss.

"Gently," he whispered, "I don't have a spare here." He undid the awkward buttons, which took longer than usual as his hands were shaking with desire, but finally the shirt was off and Alex was running his hands up and down his hard torso. 

"God, you're ripped," said Alex admiringly. 

"You're not so bad yourself," replied Jason as he untied the belt of the bathrobe and nudged it open. He hadn't had a chance to really look at Alex last time, and he took the opportunity now. Although Alex didn't have washboard abs, his stomach was hard and flat, and his chest was covered in a soft down of fine, blond hair. Jason raked his fingers through the hair, dragging them across Alex's hard nipples and tracing the line of hair down to his groin. Alex sighed and Jason watched as his dick stiffened and lengthened to a full erection. It was a beautiful thing, at least 8 inches long, thick and throbbing with need. Jason gently ran his hands along it and he heard Alex's breathing grow ragged. He looked up and Alex nodded.

Jason took Alex's hand and led him out of the bathroom into Alex's bedroom. There, he pulled off Alex's robe and was momentarily stunned by the other man's naked beauty. Then, he gently pushed Alex back onto the king-sized bed and softly murmured,

"You're beautiful."

"God, Jason, you're so fucking hot. I need you," Alex whispered. 

Jason needed no more encouragement. After a passionate kiss, he began to move down Alex's body. He wanted to pleasure Alex like he'd never had it before, wanted to make him come so bad that he screamed Jason's name. Jason planted soft kisses in the hollow of Alex's neck and inhaled the scent of fresh citrus. 

"You smell good," he said into Alex's neck. Alex arched his back, pressing himself against Jason but Jason pushed him back down. 

"Shh, all in good time." 

Alex relaxed and sank back down, but his submission only turned Jason on even more. He took a few deep breaths to control himself and then kissed his way down Alex's chest. He paused at the nipples and took first the right, and then the left nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue around the nub, teasing it, whilst twisting the other one with his hand, and enjoyed feeling them harden. Alex shifted and Jason bit down on the left nipple. It wasn't a hard bite, but it was enough to make Alex grunt in surprise. Jason moved down, leaving a trail of kisses along his way until he finally came to Alex's fully erect, pulsing member. 

He ran his fingers along the underside of the shaft and then, without warning, enveloped the whole thing in his mouth, taking Alex in all the way. Alex gasped and thrust forward into Jason's mouth, and Jason immediately withdrew. 

"No, don't stop!" cried Alex. Jason smiled and slowly flicked his tongue into the slit at the head, licking the pearls of pre-come that were dribbling out. He savoured the sweet taste before wrapping his mouth around the head and then withdrawing. Then he went down on Alex again, a bit further this time, before withdrawing again. He continued for a while, not taking Alex in all the way, even though he desperately wanted to. But he needed to hear Alex beg for it. He tugged at Alex's balls, and quickly sucked each one before licking the velvety soft skin on the underside of the shaft, at its base. Alex groaned and Jason blew cool air onto the wet cock. 

"Don't fucking tease me, Jason," growled Alex. Jason sat back and smirked.

"Then what should I do?" he asked, meeting Alex's gaze. 

"Make me come," said Alex, as he looked straight into Jason's eyes. 

Jason lowered his mouth onto Alex's hard dick and took it into his mouth, deep-throating him. He slowly pulled back and then said,

"Like that?"

Alex was silent for a moment and when he spoke, his voice was strained.

"Yes...please."

Jason smiled and then began to deliver the best blowjob Alex would ever receive. He took Alex's member in his mouth and ran his tongue around it. As he began to fuck Alex's cock with his mouth, he nudged Alex's legs further apart and raised his fingers to Alex's mouth. Alex sucked on them obediently, and then Jason slipped his hand into Alex's crack. Alex stiffened but Jason continued sucking on his cock and soon Alex was moaning with desire. Jason found the ring of muscle with his fingers and teased it before gently slipping a wet finger into the hole. Alex bucked and groaned, his hands gripping the bed covers.

"God, don't stop," he begged as he writhed at Jason's ministrations. Jason felt Alex's balls tightening and knew he was close. He twisted his finger inside Alex's hole and sucked harder on his cock, whilst lifting his free hand to Alex's left nipple and pinching it. Alex felt as though his body was on fire with pain and pleasure and every conscious thought left his mind. All he knew was that he was going to come, and he was going to come hard.

"Oh my God," he panted. "Oh my fucking...I'm going to...I'm going come Jason!" 

Jason increased his speed on Alex's cock and as he felt it expand inside his mouth, he withdrew his fingers. 

"Jason!" Alex cried, and he thrust forward, pushing his dick down Jason's throat, and released a thick stream of semen. Jason swallowed and the sucking motion drew out another spurt from Alex, along with another loud moan of desire. Jason savoured the moment of seeing Alex spread-eagled on the bed, completely helpless as Jason bobbed up and down between his legs. Alex shot his load over and over into Jason's mouth, and Jason swallowed every single drop of Alex's salty and slightly bitter come, milking him until his dick went limp. He licked up all the remaining trickles that had escaped before kissing his was back up Alex's torso which was now covered in a sheen of sweat.

He gently kissed Alex on the lips and Alex nervously pushed his tongue into Jason's mouth, wanting to taste himself. After a long kiss, Jason pulled back and Alex closed his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. 

"That was so good. I've never had such an intense orgasm. I'm utterly spent, I can't move. Damn Jason." 

Jason smiled and gently stroked Alex's hair.

"It was my pleasure."

They lay quietly for a minute before Alex gave a low chuckle. 

"I wish my father would walk in now and see this. He'd flip if he thought I was gay. Actually, maybe I should pretend I am -- that would finally tip him over the edge."

Jason sat up too quickly, making the room spin. But his mind was spinning faster. This guy had just come for him, he'd begged for it, and now he was denying that he was gay?! What the hell? Jason's bubble of contentment burst as he came crashing back to reality and he pushed himself off the bed. Alex opened his eyes and struggled into a sitting position. 

"Shit, I'm sorry Jason, I didn't mean-"

"Forget it," said Jason curtly as he went to the bathroom to retrieve his shirt and jacket. He pulled them on and smoothed his hair in the mirror before stepping back out. Alex had come into the main room and was trying to look innocent as he stood there, completely naked. Jason's unsatisfied erection was throbbing in his pants, causing a very noticeable bulge. He saw Alex glance at it, which only made him angrier. He strode past the duke's son towards the door but Alex grabbed his wrist.

"Jason, just listen!" he tried.

Jason spun round to face him, fury in his eyes. 

"Next time you want a blow-job, just ask one of the maids. I'm sure they'd be more than happy to oblige," he spat. He wrenched his arm free of Alex's grip and stormed out of the suite, leaving Alex feeling somewhat bewildered, his soft dick hanging limply between his legs. 



The Valet Ch. 03



~ Hi everyone! Sorry it's taken so long, but I have finally gotten round to writing the next chapter of Alex and Jason's lives. This chapter is a bit longer than the previous ones, but there is also less action. However, I think it's a necessary step for the story to develop. I hope you enjoy it, and as always, feedback is appreciated! Please note that absolutely everything is fictional, and all my own work. Sapphire ~

*

As dawn broke the next day, Jason had never been happier to see the sun rise. He'd spent the entire night tossing and turning, his emotions swinging between fury and despair. He hated Alex for using him like he had and yet...and yet. Maybe Alex was scared, or didn't have a choice about his sexual preferences because he was royalty. Whenever Jason found himself thinking along these lines, he banished the thoughts from his head. He hated Alex, and it would not do to feel any other way about him. So the cycle had gone all night, and Jason had watched the hours tick by on his alarm clock. At 6am, he got out of bed and went for a long run, hoping that the exercise would numb his mind and help him express his anger in a way that didn't involve punching Alex.

He didn't particularly want to go to work, and would have called in sick if it hadn't been the day of the feast. As it was, Mrs Hughes would need all the help she could get and if he didn't go in, she might just have a heart attack. The up-side was that he was playing waiter today. The feast would officially start with a drinks reception at 2pm, where Jason would have to carry round trays of champagne and canapés which cost far more than he probably had in his bank account. Then, after a short speech, guests would be seated inside the grand hall for the main meal, a BBQ which was expected to last at least 3 hours and would see most of the guests getting thoroughly drunk. Then there would be outdoor mingling and dancing, with a buffet of desserts into the late hours of the night. All in all, it sounded like the perfect recipe for avoiding Alex. 

As Jason walked into the kitchen, ready to start the day's work, he bumped into Sam. 

"Shit man," exclaimed Sam as he stared at Jason. "What happened to you?" Jason sighed. The sleepless night was clearly showing. 

"It's the hot weather, can't sleep," he lied. Sam nodded in agreement. 

"Ask one of the maids for some foundation!" he laughed, and dashed off before Jason could catch him. Smiling for the first time that day, Jason pulled down his list of duties from the board and set to work. There were over 100 places to be set at the table in the grand hall, and each one had to be identical to the next. Jason had thought that Mrs Hughes was joking when she'd mentioned using a ruler to measure the spaces, but she wasn't. To make things worse, specific orders arrived from the Prince to change some of the seating arrangements - apparently, there had been a few tiffs since the guests' arrivals, and strategic seating was of utmost importance. Jason snorted as he read the note, and then shifted the names as requested. He noticed that Alex had been placed right next to his father - no doubt the Duke would be wanting to keep a close eye on his wayward son.

At 1.45pm sharp, the waiters all presented themselves for inspection. After straightening a few jackets and brushing off invisible specks of dust, Mrs Hughes pronounced them ready to serve. Jason collected his first tray of champagne from the kitchen and made his way to the reception area where the guests were slowly gathering. Classical music drifted in the air -- none of the recorded stuff mind, the palace's own musicians had been practicing for months for this day. Jason carefully wove his way through the crowd, remembering to maintain a formal, polite air but not 'grinning like a chimpanzee' as Mrs Hughes had put it. 

He marvelled at how invisible he was to these royalties. As Jason appeared at their side, they would pluck a flute off the tray without so much as a glance at him, barely pausing in their conversation. Jason also noticed that no one ever beckoned him -- they simply waited for him to approach them. He began to play a game to see how many people's eyes he could catch, before they quickly looked away -- embarrassed to have been caught looking at a waiter. The younger girls were easy targets, and he could feel their admiring eyes following him around the room. Besides making the dull work slightly more interesting, it also distracted Jason from constantly looking around for a certain person.

That certain person was not to be avoided, however. After his tray was emptied, Jason began to make his way back to the kitchen for a refill, checking his texts as he did so. Phones weren't really allowed on duty but his friends were planning a final get-together before they all went their separate ways for university in September, and God only knew how desperately Jason needed a night out. So engrossed was he in reading his messages that he didn't hear or see Alex hurtling down the stairs at breakneck speed. Apparently, Alex didn't see him either because next thing Jason knew, his tray was knocked out of his hands as they collided and sprawled onto the marble floor of the hallway. Jason suddenly found his breath taken away from the fall -- or it could have been because of the piercing blue eyes which were gazing into his.

Both Alex and Jason were silent for a moment. Alex had conveniently managed to land right on top of Jason, and he now shifted his weight slightly, making it possible for Jason to breathe again, but made no attempt to stand up. Jason was acutely aware of Alex's muscular body on top of his, and as good as it felt, he knew someone would have heard the clatter of his tray and would be coming to investigate.

"Hmm, I thought you'd prefer to bottom," he commented sarcastically, raising an eyebrow as he spoke. His words had the desired effect and Alex jumped up as though he'd been electrocuted. 

"Sorry!" he exclaimed. "I was late to the reception thing so I was running down the stairs and I wasn't watching where I was going and --"

"Clearly," said Jason curtly, cutting off Alex's babble as he also got to his feet. He retrieved his tray and then glanced at Alex, and immediately wished he hadn't. Alex was blushing slightly, and his hair was ruffled from the fall, making him look incredibly boyish and sexy. 

"Look, man..." Alex began.

"You should go into the hall, your father's probably looking for you. And you might want to straighten your tie," Jason said quietly.

Alex turned even redder at this, as both boys remembered the last time Alex had worn a bow tie. For a moment, they gazed at each other, neither sure of what to say or do. Eventually, Jason looked away.

"I have to get back to my duties," he said.

"Yeah...me too," replied Alex in a heavy voice. "See you later."

Jason nodded and headed off towards the kitchen. He could feel Alex watching him as he walked away, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to turn round and lose himself in those blue eyes again.

The kitchen was in complete chaos as final touches were added to the dishes for the main meal. Jason didn't really see the point of a barbeque which was served indoors but he couldn't deny that the dishes did look impressive. Grilled scallops, marinated stake, seafood skewers and spice-rubbed pork chops were only a few of the main dishes, complemented by rice salad, grilled vegetables, soba in cashew butter sauce and what seemed like one hundred different condiments. Of course, nothing was simply called its name -- everything seemed to have an alternative name in a foreign language, which waiters were expected to know. 

"Dude, what the hell is stroganoff?" muttered Sam at Jason's shoulder as they both stared at the tables laden with food.

"It's the steak," replied Jason. Sam looked at him, and then back at the table.

"Err...none of that looks like the steak I eat."

"That's because one is not cultured and refined, unlike one's guests seated in the grand dining room above us," replied Jason in a high-pitched voice.

Several kitchen maids overheard and began giggling, just as Mrs Hughes swept past.

"Once you're quite done wasting precious time at the expense of our reputation, would you please start taking the dishes out! And Sam, if you really don't know which plate is the steak, then may I suggest a culinary course as a wise way of spending your next vacation!"

Sam rolled his eyes and nudged Jason.

"Let's get this show on the road!"

The main meal lasted three long hours during which Jason made countless trips to the kitchen, balancing trays of food, drinks, sauces and anything else the honoured guests cared to request. As the day wore on, the guests did indeed become more and more inebriated, and the volume in the dining room steadily rose with the levels of alcohol consumed. By 6pm, Jason's head was pounding, his feet were aching and his back felt like it was about to crack. The only positive was that he was too busy to think about Alex, although he occasionally felt the other boy's eyes following him around the room. 

Eventually, plates were cleared and chairs were vacated as guests finished their meals and moved into the garden for dancing and desserts. As the last few royalties left the dining hall, Jason breathed a sigh of relief. There would be about an hour before desserts were served which gave him just enough time to have a hot shower and grab a bite to eat. 

As he headed up to the spare room which servants had been permitted to use for the day, he heard the murmur of voices around the corner. Considering that everyone was supposed to be downstairs, Jason couldn't help but be a little intrigued. He quietly walked to the end of the corridor and peered around the corner.

Alex was standing with his back to the wall whilst a girl who Jason vaguely recognised from the dinner planted soft kisses on his neck, pressing her body against his. Jason felt an irrational surge of jealousy, swiftly followed by disgust and was about to walk away when Alex spoke.

"Stop."

Jason froze, thinking he'd been seen but when he looked at Alex, he saw that he was looking at his companion. The girl lifted her head to look at Alex. 

"What? Do you want to go somewhere more private?" she murmured, batting her eyelashes at him. Alex placed his hands on her shoulders and firmly pushed her away.

"No, I just...look, I'm sorry, I'm just not in the mood tonight."

The girl laughed breathily and pouted at Alex.

"Babe, surely you don't mean that. I've been looking forward to this for soo long, and I know you have too." She slipped a strap of her dress off her shoulder and took a step forward, but Alex side-stepped her.

"Emma, I'm serious. Leave me alone ok, I really don't want to do this right now."

"Oh, I see," said Emma, her tone suddenly changing. "So you invite me up here with sweet words and promises and then, just when you feel like it, you go cold turkey on me and decide you don't want me after all! Don't worry about my feelings, and what I want!"

"Yeah I won't!" replied Alex angrily, "because we both know that you'll have hooked up with five other guys before the night is over."

"And since when did you want exclusivity?" yelled Emma, as Alex shook his head and began walking off. Jason backed away from the corner and hurried down the corridor as Alex's footsteps became louder. His hands were shaking as he fumbled with the key but he managed to get the door open just as Alex came into sight. Upon seeing Jason, he stopped short.

"What are you doing here?" he said in an accusatory tone.

"I'm on break, I just came up to have a shower," Jason replied, trying to keep his voice steady. Again, a silence fell between them which felt pregnant with thoughts shared but words unspoken. This time Alex looked away first, and then walked up to Jason. For a moment, Jason thought he was going to continue walking straight past him, but then Alex peered over the banister and then turned back to him.

"Can I join you?"

Jason felt the blood rushing to his cock but had just enough sense remaining to remember he was supposed to hate this guy.

"Somehow, I don't think that's a good idea."

Alex smiled, and put a finger on Jason's lips.

"It's not...which is exactly why we should do it," he whispered. He gently pushed Jason backwards into the room, closed the door behind him and had Jason up against it before Jason could even begin to form a protest. 

"I want you," he murmured, brushing his thumb over Jason's lips. What little reason had remained in Jason slowly trickled away as Alex's lips captured his and Jason lost himself in the sensation. For the next few minutes, both Alex and Jason's worlds were a pure, heady concoction of desperate tongues, searching hands, grinding hips and erections which were obeying hearts rather than brains. When they finally pulled apart, gasping for air, they were both in a state of semi-undress. Alex's jacket lay on the floor, and his shirt was half untucked. Jason's hair was ruffled, his cheeks flushed and his flies undone. 

Alex took in this utterly sexy sight before him and was aware that his trousers were becoming increasingly tight and painful. He leaned forward and nuzzled Jason's neck, inhaling the intoxicating masculine scent of aftershave, sweat and sex. Jason moaned and tilted his head, giving Alex more room to continue his delightful ministrations. With each moan that issued from Jason's mouth, Alex's desire flared and he grew desperate to have this hot man -- completely. 

"God, I want you Jason. I want you now."

Somewhere in the deep recesses of Jason's brain, these words registered but he didn't react for a few moments. One part of him wanted Alex too, admittedly the part that was stiff as a board and dribbling with pre-cum. But his logical side knew that this would only end in heartbreak, and as he recalled the pain of Alex's previous comments about being straight, his logical side won. For a moment anyway.

Jason put his hands on Alex's chest and firmly pushed, leaning away so that Alex would stop kissing his neck and look up at him. Alex's eyes were glazed with lust and desire, but seeing Jason's serious expression he straightened up. 

"What is it? Aren't you enjoying this?" he asked, accusation again tainting his voice.

Jason sighed. "Of course I'm enjoying it," he said, indicating the bulge in his trousers. "I want you too -- you can't guess how much."

"Then-" Alex began to interrupt but Jason silenced him by placing a finger on his lips. 

"I'm all for fun and games, Alex, but not in a closet. And definitely not with someone who's usually straight."

Alex winced as Jason used his own words against him, and his shoulders drooped. He stepped back and ran his hands over his face in exasperation.

"This is so messed up!" he exclaimed. "I'm so confused and scared and..." his voice faltered and he looked down at the floor. He suddenly looked so vulnerable that Jason's heart went out to him.

"Hey, it's ok. Come on." Jason led Alex over to the huge double bed and sat them both down on the edge of it...even though he wanted to do something quite different on that bed with this gorgeous man. "You can talk to me."

Alex snorted and then looked at Jason.

"Talking is pretty far down on the list of things I want to do to you."

Jason junior has softened slightly, but sprang back to full attention at this comment and the heat in Alex's eyes.

"Me too. But I think you need to talk to someone," he managed to say.

Alex looked down at his hands, and Jason thought he was about to call the whole thing off and walk away. But then he began. 

"I went to an all-boys boarding school from the age of about 10 until I finished school last year. When my dad told me I was going to a boarding school I went into rage and felt like I was being taken away from my home, my friends and my family. But boarding school actually turned out to be alright - in fact, I loved it. We were all pretty privileged and came from similar backgrounds so it was kinda like one big family. Obviously the older kids would bully the younger ones and I still bear some scars from the more serious fights. But overall it was a great time. I'm sure you can imagine though, in an all male environment of hundreds of kids hitting puberty, fighting wasn't exactly the only thing going on behind the teachers' backs. 

"After lights out in the dorms every night, everyone would pretend to be asleep but then after a while you'd always hear the other kids jacking off. Some people were pretty open about it - it was natural after all. But then some people took it further; there's only so much satisfaction you can get from your own hand. Some guys would give hand jobs, some would even give blow jobs, but it was all done behind closed doors. That's not to say we didn't know who to go to if we wanted something, but names were never mentioned and it was purely physical...for most guys. Everyone guessed that the guys giving the blow jobs were gay, but no one ever said anything. To be gay in my school was to guarantee bullying to the point where you had to leave - it was the whole macho locker room attitude; it was just unacceptable. 

"So when I developed a crush on a guy in the year above, I seriously freaked out. At first, I didn't know what was happening - we used to give each other hand jobs and I kept telling myself that the only reason I kept going back to him was because he was good. But then one day, he kissed me - and I kissed him back. And I liked it, although of course, I didn't admit that at the time. Instead I made out like it was his fault, I called him all sorts of things and avoided him for the rest of the year. I stopped receiving 'favours' from anyone and would make sure I slept with tonnes of girls whenever I went home. That wasn't just to keep the suspicion at bay but also to keep trying to convince myself that I wasn't gay. I'd been brought up in such a homophobic environment - not just school but family as well - that the thought disgusted me. 

"But obviously, it didn't work. Girls just don't do it for me so I guess I am...you know..." He trailed off here and looked down, and Jason saw a tear trickle down his cheek. 

"Hey, don't cry," whispered Jason, wiping the tear away and turning Alex's face towards him. "There are worse things in life; you could be sleeping with Emma right now." Alex gave a half-sob, half-laugh and then glanced at Jason.

"Spying were you?"

"I'd like to think of it as keeping an eye on you. Maybe your father will tip me if I do a good job?" Jason had meant it as a joke but Alex's face darkened at mention of the duke. 

"Ugh my father. That's a whole different issue. He is the most homophobic man ever and all he cares about is his stupid reputation! He would literally kill me if I told him I was gay...well, he'd hire someone to do it. Far be it from him to get his hands dirty." Alex buried his face in his hands and sighed.

"Shit, man. What am I gonna do?"

Jason cleared his throat. The more time he spent with Alex, the more he was getting to like him. But Jason was out, and he'd learnt from experience that secret relationships were not healthy and did not have happy endings - even more so in this case with royalty involved. There was no point in leading Alex on - he had to be straight with him (no pun intended).

"Look, Alex, I really like you. Ever since you strolled in here a few days ago, I haven't been able to stop thinking about you. You're funny, smart and very hot. Which only makes this harder on me...but the thing is, I am openly gay and I just don't do closet cases. Not casually, and definitely not long term. I'm in a happy place right now and I don't wanna get caught up in the middle of some huge family fiasco, you know? I wish things were different because I really like you...but you need to sort your life out mate." As he finished, Alex looked away from him and sighed again.




The Valet Ch. 04



~ Can't believe it's been over a year since I posted - sorry! Anyway here's the next chapter of the story...I know it might seem like I'm going off track but don't worry, it's all part of the plan :) Enjoy! Sapphire ~



Jason took a deep breath and looked up at the building in front of him. Today was the first day of the rest of his life and he was excited and nervous all at the same time. The summer was over and he was finally beginning his degree in politics and economics at UCL, his dream university. It felt so unreal that Jason took a few moments to stand on the steps of his halls and drink it all in. He couldn't wait for the fresh start, to make new friends, see new places and learn new things. He felt a grin splitting his face and he shook his head, telling himself to get a grip before someone saw him acting like a total dork on his first day. He hauled his suitcase up the steps and walked into Comerford House, the place that would be his home for the next year.

He was greeted by some friendly older students who were helping out with inductions, and was shown the way to his room. He had decided to go for the cheaper option of sharing a room, as prices in London were ridiculous and he didn't want to blow all his money on rent. He hoped he wouldn't regret his choice when he met his room mate though. He cautiously opened the door and breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like Jason's decision to move in on the Saturday before term started had paid off - his room mate hadn't arrived yet. There was nothing too special about the room; there were two beds, two wardrobes, a large sink by the window and a door that led to the adjoining bathroom which would be shared with the people in the room next door to his. All in all, not a bad arrangement for £90 a week. 

Jason propped open the door to his room so that he could get acquainted with anyone else who was moving in, and began unpacking. As the day wore on, more and more students began to trickle in and the noise levels rose in the corridor. There were parents dropping off children, siblings arguing about clothes, kids running around and a general air of chaos. Jason was overwhelmed by all the friendly people he was meeting, and he could tell that it was going to be a good year. He had just finished unpacking and was trying to shove his empty suitcase under his bed when he heard a knock on his open door. He glanced around and if he was straight, he would have had the breath knocked out of him. A beautiful girl of his age stood at the door, her curvy figure accentuated by her stylish choice of clothes, an easy smile on her full lips and a sparkle in her hazel eyes.

"Hi," she said, in a musical voice. "I'm Megan."

Jason stood up and grinned, placing his hand in her outstretched one and shaking it firmly.

"Hi, I'm Jason."

"Nice name," she said, smiling more broadly.

"Thanks," Jason replied. "You're not my room mate are you?"

Megan burst out laughing and shook back her mane of chocolate brown locks.

"Of course not! I'm pretty sure it's against the rules to mix genders like that."

"Oh, thank god. I wouldn't be very pleased if you were to steal all the male attention around here, you see."

Megan frowned for a moment and then clasped her hand to her mouth.

"Ohmygosh! You're gay!"

"Aand, 10 points to Megan!" Jason called in a TV presenter's voice, laughing at her surprised expression.

"Dammit," Megan sighed. "I knew that handsome face and firm butt were too good to be true."

Jason smiled at the compliment and said, "I'm sure you won't have any trouble getting the attention of the next hot guy around."

Megan grinned and Jason grinned back, feeling as though he'd just been reunited with a long lost best friend.

The next day, Megan and Jason rounded up a group of people from halls and went exploring around London. Most of the people living in halls were not Londoners and had moved from all over the country to attend UCL. There were a couple of international students from Canada and America too, and for the day, they were all tourists in the capital city. They went on the London Eye and walked along the Thames, visited Madame Tussaud's and the London Dungeons, bought ice cream from an ice cream van and chased each other around Hyde Park. 

As dusk approached, they spilled into a local pizza place to tuck into some good food before heading back to halls. As they were waiting for the food to arrive Sarah, who was one of the extroverts of the group, decided to ask the question that had apparently been on everyone's mind. Staring directly at Jason, she cleared her throat and said,

"So, how long have you two been together?"

For a second, Jason had no idea what she was talking about. Then he followed her gaze to Megan, who was leaning her head on his shoulder and resting a hand on his thigh. 

He laughed and said, "Unfortunately for Megan, I'm gay."

Hearing this, Megan sat up and quipped, "And unfortunately for Jason, I'm not!" 

Everyone around the table laughed, including Sarah who said, "So you're both single?"

"Yep," Jason replied, "and both only seeking male attention. Interested parties should apply within."

This brought another round of laughter and any awkwardness that had been felt as a result of Sarah's question quickly disappeared.

As Jason lay in bed that night mulling over Sarah's observation and his single status, he once more found himself thinking about Alex. Although the two had parted on friendly terms and a mutual agreement that nothing could happen between them, it still hadn't been easy. Not a day had gone by since his stint at the Palace finished that Jason didn't wish things could have been different. It was weird to miss something you'd never really had but Jason, despite trying to deny it, knew that he missed Alex. His dreams that were haunted by piercing blue eyes were confirmation of that.

Despite his better judgement, Jason picked up his smartphone and googled Alex's name, immediately pulling up an article in a tabloid newspaper which stated that Alex had indeed gone to study in America. Jason felt a pang of disappointment as he looked at Alex's picture which accompanied the article, remembering those beautiful eyes and high cheekbones. He sighed and put his phone down, recalling his promise to himself that London would be a fresh start.

He was awoken in the early hours of the morning by someone shuffling around the bedroom, dragging a heavy object and grunting with the effort. Jason rubbed his eyes and sat up to find himself looking at a young, East Asian guy trying to manoeuvre a huge suitcase around the beds. Seeing Jason sit up, the boy gave him a shy smile and held out his hand.

"Hi, I'm Wang Ping," he said in strongly accented English.

Jason smiled back and shook Wang's hand. "Hi, I'm Jason. Need a hand with that?" 

Without waiting for a response, he got out of bed and helped Wang move his suitcase around to his bed.

"I hope you don't mind that I took that bed," Jason said. Wang simply shook his head and smiled again, and Jason decided that opting for a shared room had been a wise choice after all - he didn't think Wang would be causing him much trouble.

After getting ready, he and Megan headed down to the main campus to begin the induction process. It was the first day of term and the campus was buzzing with life. Old friends greeted each other with hugs and handshakes, and the new students stood around awkwardly trying to blend in. Once they had finally been issued their ID cards, Jason and Megan headed over to the Freshers Fayre to see what the university had to offer in terms of clubs and extra curricular activities. Megan, who was studying music and art, immediately signed up to the Stage Crew, which was involved in hosting drama productions for the uni. 

Jason wandered over to the sports section and was reading the board about the boat club when a deep voice behind him asked,

"Do you row?"

Jason turned around and found himself facing 6 ft of well defined, muscular English gentleman. The guy standing in front of him was not only tall and extremely physically fit, with broad shoulders that tapered down to narrow hips and long, strong legs, but he was also very good looking. He had a square jaw, and dirty blond hair that was cut short. His eyes were a deep, delicious brown and even his voice sent shivers down Jason's spine. Jason cleared his throat and tried to prevent his eyes from checking out the hot guy in front of him.

"Yep, I live in Oxford so rowing is pretty much a full time hobby for me," he answered.

The guy grinned and gave Jason the once over.

"I thought so," he said in that sexy baritone. "Your muscular build is a dead giveaway. I'm Evan by the way, captain of the boat club."

He thinks I'm muscular! squealed a girly voice in Jason's head but somehow, he kept his composure and shook Evan's hand, trying not to think about how warm and firm it felt, and how it might feel around his hardening cock.

"I'm Jason."

"Well Jason, I hope you intend on trying out for the boat club. It's usually pretty competitive but I've got a feeling you'll be ok." And with a grin to melt Jason's heart, Evan turned his attention back the stall, where more freshers were gathering.

Jason felt a tap on his arm and found Megan gawking at Evan's back. "Who is that hottie?!" she said in a theatrical whisper. 

Jason rolled his eyes and smiled.

"That's Evan, captain of the boat club."

"Can I try out for the boat club?" she pouted. 

Jason laughed and threw an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, I've got dibs on this one."

Freshers week passed in a blur of meeting new people, the flashing lights and thumping music of clubs and excessive consumption of alcohol. Lectures began in the second week of term, for which Jason was extremely grateful as his hangover had apparently become a permanent fixture. Thankfully, trying out for the boat club had not required any mental prowess and Jason had attended the trials on Friday along with about thirty other freshers. Only ten of them would make it on to the team, and they'd been told they'd hear back the following week.

As Jason was heading to his first ever lecture on Monday morning, he felt his phone buzz. It was a text: Congrats! You've made it into the boat club. Meet at the Union Bar for sports night on Wednesday where you will be initiated. Evan.

Jason felt happiness course through him, partly because he'd made it on to the team but more so because he now had Evan's number. It was lucky that his first lecture was a general introduction to the course rather than any specific course content because Jason spent most of it in a daydream about the yummy captain of the boat club.

As Wednesday evening approached, Jason began to grow more nervous; even after just over a week at UCL he'd already heard about sports night and just how crazy it could get. He could hold his own when it came to alcohol consumption thanks to his height and build, but he didn't want to get involved in anything too crazy or dangerous. When he entered the union bar at just after eight, he was assaulted by the noise and crush of the already rowdy crowd. He looked around and luckily spotted some members of the boat club he recognised from the trial. He wove his way over to them and was greeted with cheers and claps on the back.

"What's happening; have I missed anything?" He yelled to his neighbour, struggling to be heard over the noise in the bar.

His neighbour shook his head and yelled back, "we're just waiting for Evan and the rest of the team and then we'll get started."

His grin didn't give Jason much hope that the night would be uneventful but he maintained his easy demeanour and smiled back.

Half an hour later, all the team plus new members were gathered around Evan who was standing on a chair to make himself heard. It seemed as though all of UCL's sports clubs were holding initiations in the same place at the same time, as the crowd in the bar had fragmented into several groups clustered around their captains.

"Freshers!" Evan called. "You have already proven your rowing prowess in the trials, and for that, we are proud of you! However, there is more to being a team member of the boat club than being able to row; you must prove that you are a valuable team member in all challenges! This includes beer pong, ring of fire, and truth or dare; where by the way, the only option is dare!" This drew laughter from the teams. 

"Your adversaries will be the other sports teams," he gestured around the room. "Succeed and you shall be revered, fail and you shall be shamed!" The team whooped and whistled as Evan shouted, "Let the games begin!"

All teams surged towards the ping pong table in the corner of the bar and the competition was on. Jason thankfully won his round and only had to down one pint, others were not so lucky and they were already one man down by the time the rugby team were declared the winners. The losers (golf) were eliminated and so the games went on. There were stupid dares such as running naked through the university square, and bleaching your hair and more demands to down pints as fast as possible than Jason could even count. 

The crowd got rowdier but also smaller; the freshers were dropping like flies and a couple of teams were eliminated for being too boring. Eventually 'I have never...' began. The freshers were gathered into a circle and each sports captain shouted out something he had never done. If you'd done it, you had to drink, and if you finished your drink you were out. There were several targets on opposing teams which made things even trickier. The football captain shouted, "I have never rowed a boat," to which Evan quickly retorted, "I have never missed a penalty".

Suddenly the karate captain yelled, "I have never kissed a boy," and Jason found himself raising his cup to his lips. As he did so, he couldn't help but glance around to see who was drinking and who was watching. His gaze fell on his captain, and he was startled to see Evan's deep brown eyes staring right back at him. If he wasn't mistaken, there was a small smile playing on those hot lips as well. Jason's heart began to race but the next I have never was being called out and he tore his eyes away regretfully.

Jason had no idea how or when the night ended, or how he got back to his room in his inebriated state. The next thing he knew, he was awoken by bright sunlight streaming into his room and the feel of something vibrating in the region of his groin. He groaned and rolled over, trying to block out the light and winced as his head throbbed. He managed to open one bleary eye and looked at his alarm clock. Shit! It was already noon which meant he'd missed two lectures. He rolled over again and promptly fell on the floor, forgetting that his was no longer a double bed like the one he was used to at home. He sighed and pulled himself up into a sitting position. His roommate Wang was nowhere to be seen thankfully; Jason didn't want any witnesses of his hangover from hell. He shucked off his clothes from last night and braced himself for a cold shower.

Half an hour later, he looked presentable even if he didn't feel it. He downed some aspirin with a glass of water and headed out for campus, checking his phone as went. There were three texts and a missed call, which was probably what had woken him. One text and the call were from Megan wanting a low down on last night, another from his mum checking up on him (talk about timing) and the last was from a course mate asking if he wanted a copy of the notes from the lectures he'd missed. He quickly texted Megan back and agreed to meet her in the campus cafe for lunch. 

Engrossed as he was in checking his phone, he wasn't really watching where he was going and so he had only himself to blame when he almost walked head first into a lamppost. He stopped himself just in time and swore, hoping that no one had seen. The sound of laughter indicated otherwise though and he glanced up to find Evan, of all people, watching him with a grin on his face. Despite his embarrassment, Jason couldn't help but grin back as Evan approached him.

"Looks like you're still feeling the effects of last night," he said with a smirk.

Jason grimaced. "Do you blame me? It was lethal! I don't even remember what happened after the 'I have never' game."

Jason was sure he saw a flicker in Evan's eyes at the mention of the game but when he spoke, his tone was neutral.

"Well, you held out pretty well. Better than most of the other freshers. Did you get back ok?"

"Yeah, somehow. I hope this doesn't happen every Wednesday though because I'm not sure my body could take it. I don't even want to see another pint of beer right now."

Evan laughed, a deep, sensuous sound that sent Jason's blood pounding down to his groin. 

"No, initiation is as crazy as it gets. The rest of the time, you can choose how much you want to drink. Anyway, I better get going - I've got a class. See you at practice on Saturday," he said with a smile, and sauntered off. 

Jason watched that sexy ass sway away from him and began counting down the hours until Saturday.

***

"Harder! Faster!" Evan yelled, his face flushed and sweaty.

It was a sunny Saturday a few weeks later and UCL were competing against Kings in the first freshers race of the year. There were only a few hundred metres of the race left and with both teams neck and neck, the pressure was on. Jason tried to block out the sight and sound of Evan because it was extremely distracting, and threw everything he had into his rowing.

"Come on!" He growled at his teammates. Collectively, they surged forward and then pulled back, their oars rippling through the blue water of the Thames. Ignoring the burn in his arm muscles, Jason persevered, refusing to look at the competitors. Forward, back, in, out...he repeated the motions methodically in time with his team mates, until finally they heard the whistle blow which meant they'd crossed the finish line. There was a tense moment of silence as neither team was sure who had won, and then the umpire raised the UCL flag in his right hand.

The crowd erupted in cheers and Evan pumped his fist in the air, yelling "Yes!!" over and over again. Jason and his team mates docked the boat and clambered out, hugging each other and the rest of the team who didn't seem to care that they were sweaty and stinky; everyone was just elated at the first victory of the year.

"Well done," said Evan as he hugged Jason.

"Thanks!" Jason replied. He wasn't sure if it was the adrenaline still coursing through his body, but he'd never seen Evan look hotter. His deep brown eyes were sparkling and his lips were a beautifully alluring red. Jason just wanted to capture them between his own lips and kiss Evan senseless. They stared at each other for a while and then suddenly realised that the rest of the team was slowly making their way back to the pavilion. Jason broke eye contact and blushed; Evan must think he was a perv. But suddenly, Evan touched his arm, sending jolts of electricity through Jason.

"Let's do brunch tomorrow," he said and with a smile, he was gone.

Jason wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans and took a deep breath. It had been a long time since he'd been so nervous about a date - if this even was a date? That thought just made him more nervous so he gave himself a mental shake and stepped into the cafe. He'd left the location of the brunch up to Evan who was bound to know the city better, and it looked like his decision had paid off. The cafe was warm and cosy whilst not being claustrophobic or dingy. There seemed to be some sort of Alice In Wonderland theme going on as books lined the walls and there was a huge hanging of the Queen of Hearts behind the cashier. 

Jason glanced around and spotted Evan immediately, his heart leaping as he did so. He tried to maintain a casual expression as he sauntered over to the table and then suddenly panicked when he began to wonder how he should greet Evan. A handshake, a hug, a friendly nod? Thankfully, Evan seemed to read his mind and pulled Jason into a man-hug as he reached him.




The Valkyrie



Sunbeams danced upon the ripples of Sydney Harbour. A warm gentle breeze caressed Astrid's bikini clad body; wisps of blonde hair escaped her hairclip and tickled her shoulders. The young woman wandered along the seashore, relishing the refreshing coolness of the shallow water as it lapped her ankles. Her mind wandered back to a similar lonely day so many years ago

With Hans and Frida Eriksen her parents, she had immigrated to Australia in the hope of a better future. Hans was an expert in the field of optical air monitoring, and had moved his family from beautiful Nyborg in Denmark, to bustling Sydney, where air pollution was becoming an increasing problem. At the tender age of six, and being unable to speak a word of English, Astrid had been enrolled in a multicultural school. 

Children from all corners of the world played together, their laughter and love of life the only connection. Several Vietnamese boat children chatted with their Chinese cousins. South American and Spanish children conversed. Greek children gathered in large groups. Teachers included everyone in the lessons and games, but Astrid felt so lonely. Why, oh why did Daddy move our family to this horrid place? She thought.

Then it happened. Day three of the new school year, and a new boy was enrolled. His name was Rolf Lindholm. Rolf had blond hair and blue eyes, just like her. On hearing him speak, she was filled with happiness. The language was vaguely familiar, although not her native Danish. The two six year olds conversed to the best of their ability, and Rolf explained that he was from Sweden. The family had been lured from Stockholm to Sydney, where his father had been appointed professor of medieval studies at the university.

The pair became inseparable; when not at school they visited each other's homes. Their families also became friends, and outings and barbecues were a common occurrence. The children enjoyed listening to Professor Lindholm's stories of Nordic mythology. They loved the tales of the fearless Vikings and warrior maidens. 

As Astrid and Rolf's English skills improved, their circle of friends grew. Upon graduating from primary school, they were voted the King and Queen of the class of 1986. They made a stunning couple. Their peers gathered around and clapped as cheered as Rolf held Astrid in his arms for the Graduation waltz.

The popular couple dated right through the five years of high school. Friends had strings of romances and conquests, but neither Astrid nor Rolf sought greener pastures. Everyone said that they were soul mates; perhaps they were right. Holding hands, and tender kisses came so naturally, and as the age of consent neared, both felt the need to consummate their love. 

Maybe predictable, and the stuff that teenage movies are made of, but Astrid and Rolf decided to give their virginity to each other on High School Graduation night. After the formalities were over, the couple danced all evening. When the band came back onstage for the last bracket of slow smoochy songs Rolf held Astrid close, both aware of their hunger for the other. Rolf felt Astrid's pert nipples against his chest, and his penis responded, prodding her tummy. Finally the lights came back on and everyone said their goodbyes, promising to keep in touch.

Rolf took Astrid's hand, and led her to the VW beetle that his parents had bought him for his 18th birthday. They slipped inside the car and drove to a highway motel, where he had booked a room. Twelve years had lapsed since they first met and barely had a day passed when they had not seen each other, but that night was new and exciting. As they embraced, both kicked off their shoes and fell onto the king sized bed. They fondled and petted, slowly undressing each other. Rolf undid the long zipper in the back of Astrid's dress, and she responded by unfastening his shirt buttons, unbuckling his belt, and lowering his fly. They stood, allowing the loosened clothing to fall to the floor. Looking deeply into each other's eyes, the pair hooked their thumbs into the sides of their undies, and stepped out of the garments, which fell to their ankles. Rolf gently stroked Astrid's thatch of soft downy pubic hair, before sliding one finger into her wetness. She gasped, as she wrapped her hand around his thick penis, and slowly slid the skin back and forth, marveling at the bead of precum. Both were breathing deeply, feeling the need to be as one. They held each other tightly and reclined onto the bed. Rolf took his weight on his arms, as Astrid held his penis against her virginal pussy. The lovers caressed and petted, before Rolf gently pushed the head of his cock against her intact hymen. It was unyielding. The couple ground their hips against each other, finally, the skin ruptured, and Rolf's cock descended into Astrid's wetness. She moaned loudly as her virginity was taken; a trickle of blood ran down her bottom. It only took a few thrusts before Rolf's cum exploded into his lover. They lay in a close embrace, happy and satisfied that each had given their self to the other. 

Rolf had chosen to pursue a career with the New South Wales Police Force, and after three years, had been promoted to the rank of Senior Constable. Astrid had a natural flair for science, and was in her third year at university, when Rolf proposed. 

It was a fairytale wedding, if anything could ever be perfect; their wedding day was just that. The newlyweds spent their first night as a married couple in the Shangri-la hotel in Sydney. They made love all night. It was something they had done many times before, but now they had made their vows to each other, their love felt deeper and stronger than before.

Early the next day, they caught a cab to the airport. Both were looking forward to their two-week romantic honeymoon in Bali. After all the formalities of seat allocation and booking in luggage, they made themselves comfortable in the departure lounge. They were amongst the first passengers to arrive, so they settled on a sofa, and hugged and kissed as they declared their love for each other.

The other passengers steadily trickled into the lounge, waiting for the boarding announcement. Suddenly, the soft mumble of excited voices was broken by a shrill scream. There was a scuffle in the adjoining lounge. A young guy of Asian appearance raced away through the crowd. He was carrying a woman's red handbag. Rolf acted on instinct, and flew from his seat in pursuit of the felon. He chased the agile guy through the airport baggage section and along a corridor, which was a dead end. 

Trapped, and panicking, the Asian drew a pistol from inside his shirt. A shot rang out, Rolf held his chest and fell to the floor, an ever-growing patch of bright red blood covering his T-shirt and forming a puddle on the ground around his motionless body. 

Several security guards converged on the scene and quickly apprehended the criminal. Another guard knelt over Rolf, feeling for a pulse in his neck; there was nothing. The guard closed Rolf's unseeing eyes as a crowd gathered around the bloodied corpse. Astrid pushed her way through the spectators, and threw herself upon the body of her dead husband. Her husband, her lover, her soul mate was gone.

Later the Police Department awarded a posthumous citation to Rolf, for his selfless bravery in the capture of a wanted drug trafficker. It appeared that the guy had planted a quantity of cocaine in a woman's handbag prior to leaving Bangkok airport. Once it had arrived safely in Australia, carried by the naïve woman, the felon grabbed the bag and made a run for it. 

Life now seemed meaningless to Astrid. Her family tried to help, as did Rolf's; but she sank deeper into depression. She could no longer sleep. Her days were spent wandering the shores of Sydney Harbour. At night, she sat beside Rolf's grave. Sometimes she would lie on the cold marble that covered his body, imagining that she was resting in his arms. 

………………………………………..

Astrid's wandering mind snapped back to reality as the warm gentle breeze suddenly turned to an Easterly direction. She shivered, as the sky darkened and huge raindrops soaked her scantily clad body. Astrid ran from the beach to the steps, which led to the shelter of several boutique shops, where she bought a sarong to cover her skimpy bikini. As she roamed aimlessly around the shops, someone handed her a leaflet, advertising a psychic fair, which was to be held at the Exhibition Center later that week. The storm passed quickly and Astrid headed home to the loneliness of her apartment. 

The young widow fixed herself a snack, and settled into a large easy chair to watch TV. Then she remembered the leaflet about the psychic fair. What if … just what if there is a way that I can communicate with Rolf? After a restless few hours sleep, Astrid dressed, and walked to the graveyard. She told Rolf that she was going to find a way for them to be together again. She thought she heard a sigh from beneath the cold earth; her heart fluttered with the feeling of the love that only she and Rolf knew. 

Astrid was among the first group of visitors at the Exhibition Center the following morning. Every type of psychic phenomena was represented. There were scores of displays, some quite elaborate; others just consisted of a medium sitting at a velvet-covered table. Not knowing where to begin, Astrid decided to walk up and down the aisles until she 'felt' something. Nothing gave out any 'vibes' although a gypsy woman with a crystal ball was doing a lot of wailing and drawing a large crowd.

Almost ready to give up and go home, Astrid came to a very insignificant display tucked away in a dark corner. It was a simple black tent; on top was a large sign that read 'WELCOME TO VALHALLA'. That was the omen that Astrid had been looking for. She and Rolf had heard from Prof Lindholm many, many tales of the Vikings and their Gods that this HAD to be the sign that she was looking for. 

A muscular young man, arms crossed tightly across his chest stood outside the tent. Dressed as Thor, the God of thunder, he wore a leather toga-type garment, on his head a winged golden helmet, at his side Mjolnir his legendary hammer. Golden hair and beard framed his strong handsome face. Sky blue eyes stared ahead. Upon seeing Astrid take an interest in the display, 'Thor' stepped to one side, gave a deep bow and pulled aside the curtain that shielded the opening to the tent. Astrid thought that it was rather theatrical, but her curiosity won and she stepped inside the darkened confines of the display. 

Once her eyes had adjusted to the dim light, Astrid saw a large blonde woman sitting behind a small table. The woman wore a metal helmet that had buffalo horns on either side. Her long hair was tied in braids, which hung over her ample bosom, and shone like gold against the course dark material of her habit. 

"Welcome, my pretty one. I have been expecting you!" The woman announced. "Come, sit at my table, there is much to discuss."

Astrid sat in disbelief opposite the woman at the table. 

"You …you have been expecting me? I don't understand." She stuttered. 

"Oh yes, my sweet one. Allow me to explain. I am Helga, I come from a long line of Gothi; do you understand?" 

"Yes, I know of Gothi. They were wise magicians in the Viking era over a thousand years ago. Professor Lindholm told me about them. So you are saying that you are a Gothi?" Astrid answered quizzically. 

"It is true, my sweet. Allow me to demonstrate my gift. I know that this must be difficult for you."

At this stage the matter of payment hadn't been discussed, so Astrid relaxed a little, and watched as Helga shook a bag of Runes and tipped them onto the table before her. Helga turned over the stones so they were all face down, and began chanting in an unusual manner. She then moved her hands over the stones, stirring them clockwise. The chanting stopped. Helga looked skywards and in a language of unknown origin, posed a question to an unseen spirit. While asking the question, she drew four of the stones, and placed them before her in a diamond pattern. Lowering her eyes, Helga silently began interpreting the stones. Her brow furrowed, she gasped, and continued her divination. 

After what felt like hours, but was in reality only minutes, Helga announced, "It is as I suspected. I think I can help you."

Astrid was now very curious. She hadn't told the woman anything, but was now being told that help was available.

"OK, so you can help me. Perhaps you had better explain, I am finding all of this quite unbelievable." 

"That is quite understandable." Helga retorted. "I will be honest with you." 

She shuffled in her chair, unsure of where to begin.

"When I was a little girl, it became apparent that I was blessed with the special powers of my forebears. I was able to see things before they happened. It was as if a spiritual guide was helping me, and this guide told me that I am a Gothi. My powers often frighten me. I see things so vividly; such was the case with you, my dear. A few months ago, I had such a vision. I saw a handsome Viking Warrior lying in a pool of blood. I saw you knelt beside him. I saw you crying, broken hearted as they placed his coffin into the cold earth. I have seen your loneliness and seen your visits to his resting place. My dear, you and your Warrior are soul mates. You have lived countless lives together. Your destination is with Odin in the Great Hall of Valhalla."

Astrid cried tears of joy. Maybe the end of her loneliness was near. 

"How much will your help cost? I am not a wealthy woman, but I will pay you what I can." Astrid asked through her tears.

"I cannot take any payment from you. My rewards will come in my next life, if I am able to help reunite you with your husband. Rolf is bound to this earth; his spirit unable to leave his earthly remains, until such time as a Valkyrie, or warrior maiden is able to accompany him to Valhalla. You realize of course, that you are that Valkyrie, don't you my dear?" Helga inquired.

Astrid blinked through her tear filled eyes. 

"Me? I am the Valkyrie who is to guide my Rolf to Valhalla? Well, I have nothing to live for. I have pills for my depression; an overdose will be an easy and painless way for me to be with my beloved. Believe me, I have pondered that idea many times."

"Ah, that would be so easy, wouldn't it?" Helga replied. "No my dear, it cannot work that way. To die by your own hand is against Odin's laws. You must wait for your time. Although I do believe that I can help you with your loneliness."

Helga scribbled some words onto a scrap of paper and handed it to Astrid. 

What you must do is go to Rolf's grave during the night of a full moon. The next one is tomorrow. Recite this chant over and over; Rolf will then answer you."

Astrid took the note and thanked Helga. As she left the center she noticed that the exhibition still had a few days to run, so in the event of the chant not working, it was comforting to know that Helga would still be near. 

That evening, Astrid felt as if she awoken from a terrible nightmare. She read and reread Helga's chant, feeling confident that within hours she would again be with her soul mate. Her enthusiasm sparked feelings of lust and desire. Carnal delights had not entered her mind since that terrible day when Rolf was murdered. Now she had a hunger that was so real; a hunger that needed to be satisfied. 

The draw beside the bed was where she kept the sex toy that she and Rolf had purchased together in an adult shop in the red light district of King's Cross. She opened the draw and took out the slim pink vibrator. Upon turning the black base, the little motor began humming, and Astrid felt the once familiar pulsating vibration. Reclining on the bed, she moved her panties to one side, and held the little powerhouse against her neglected clit. Her vagina began to spasm, and the desire for something to fill her wet void became unbearable. It was at this point that Rolf used to fill her pussy with his thick rod. 

"Oh God. I need to be fucked!" Astrid screamed. 

She shuffled across the bed to what had been Rolf's bedside drawer. Rummaging around amongst cufflinks and books, her hand brushed against something cold and phallic shaped. It was Rolf's police torch; long, thick and black. Just the job, she thought to herself. Holding the flared end, she inserted the opposite end into her wet pussy, which gobbled it inside greedily. As the vibrator continued its stimulation of her clit, she pumped the torch in and out of herself, until she exploded in a saturating climax. She felt fireworks explode inside her head, and a loud shrill squeal emanated from deep inside her as love juices trickled down the crack of her arse. 

The young widow slept well that night. It was her first sexual experience since Rolf died nearly four months ago, and she had forgotten how good it felt to be a woman. Astrid occupied herself with university studies in an effort to pass idle time. Daylight saving meant that it didn't get dark until around nine o'clock, so she went for a stroll along the beach until she saw the sun sink behind the tall buildings of the city center. 

When she reached the cemetery, the sun had settled in the west and all that remained of the daylight were a few wisps of red cloud in the distance. As usual she was the only living person in the cemetery so late in the evening. She sat on the cold marble of Rolf's grave as she has so many times before, and told Rolf what she hoped would happen. 

Then she began:

"Death's chilling wind blows through your hair You are immortal; you are there You take your place at Odin's side Eternal army in the sky, Your Valkyrie your only guide." 

Over and over she chanted. She was suddenly aware of a cool chill in the air, then a faint and distant voice.

"Astrid?"

Astrid gasped in disbelief. She looked around for someone who may be playing a cruel trick on her, but nobody was around. 

"Rolf. Rolf is that you? Where are you?" she stuttered.

"I am here my darling. Here beneath the ground. I am trapped inside this rotting corpse. I have no pain, but I am so lonely. I miss you so much!" 

Astrid placed her ear on the cold marble that covered Rolf's grave, and was aware that the muffled voice was indeed emanating from several feet below the surface.

She replied, "Oh my sweetheart, my heart was broken when you were taken from me. I miss you so much, and would do anything for us to be together once more. Yesterday I met a Gothi. I know it sounds unbelievable but it is true. There is so much I have to tell you."

Astrid lay hugging the cold marble and chatting to her dead husband until the first rays of dawn began to light the sky in the east. Both agreed that being able to converse was comforting, albeit cold comfort for the intimacies they desired. Neither was sure if the Gothi's magic would work again, and if it did; when would that be? They decided that another visit to Helga was crucial. As the sun gradually lit the sky and the songbirds began their morning chorus, Rolf's voice became fainter until Astrid could no longer hear him. 

The Exhibition Center was crowded when Astrid arrived the next morning. She made her way to the Valhalla tent but became anxious when she saw several people had formed a queue outside. The Thor impersonator was amusing the waiting patrons by flexing his muscles and swinging Mjolnir above his head. Having no other choice, Astrid joined the queue and watched the giant's theatrical display. Slowly, the line of prospective 'clients' moved forward until Astrid was the only one waiting for admittance to the tent. 

'Thor' stopped his show of his athleticism and sidled up to Astrid.

"You want have coffee later, baby?" he asked in a German accent.





The Valkyries



Copyright Oggbashan September 2013/October 2015

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. The events described here are imaginary; the settings and characters are fictitious and are not intended to represent specific places or living persons. 

*************************************************

"Who the fuck are you?"

I had woken up in what I knew to be my deathbed to find myself surrounded by attractive young ladies wearing bronze armour and carrying spears.

"Fuck?" one of them asked. "We don't normally do that. An interesting idea".

"Who are you? Why...?"

"I should have thought that was obvious, Eric. We are the Valkyries. We have come to take you to Valhalla to join the other heroes."

Was I delirious? Me, a hero destined for Valhalla? These women must be a sick joke by some of my family.

"No, Eric, we're not a joke. We are the real Valkyries. Can human women do this?"

Suddenly all of them were mounted on war horses. How? There was no room around my bed for a single horse, let alone a large number.

"OK, OK. I believe you. You are the Valkyries. But why me? I'm not a hero."

"You are Eric Smith?"

I nodded.

"You fought in the Second World War?"

I nodded again.

"You won the Victoria Cross, Britain's premier award for bravery?"

"No. I didn't. The Victoria Cross was won by another Eric Smith. He was a distant relation. His award was posthumous so you must have taken him decades ago."

"Shit! Loki must be playing games again. He mucks up Valhalla's record keeping whenever he can. Let's see if we can sort it out. You were in World War 2?"

"I said so."

"You didn't. You nodded. Sister? Have you got the record?"

Somehow the Valkyries' horses had disappeared. The large crowd of them had reduced to four women.

"Yes. Sergeant Eric Smith, veteran of the North Africa campaign, landed in Normandy on D-Day and was involved in the British Army campaigns from there until he was at Luneburg Heath for the surrender to General Montgomery."

"That true, Eric?"

"Yes, but..."

"Is this yours?"

She produced a Lee Enfield rifle and handed it to me. I received it like the old friend it was. I looked carefully. It had been mine. There were the familiar serial numbers and the bullet scar from the sniper in Antwerp. I hadn't been injured. My rifle had been leaning against a Jeep while I worked on the engine.

"Yes, it's mine. But how?"

"How? We can do many things. We could even do fucking, if that's what you want, Eric."

"I'm dying. You know that, or you wouldn't be here. I doubt that I am still capable of fucking anyone."

"You're not dying. You died a couple of minutes before you said 'Who the fuck are you?'. You can leave the bed anytime you want. Look at that mirror."

I climbed out of bed, easily. I walked across to the bedroom mirror. Reflected was not the old man who had died, but myself as I had been in 1944, even in my khaki uniform with full equipment. I hadn't noticed the weight because I was again the young fit soldier I had been then. I even had the holstered Colt 1911 I had been given by an American Officer for taking out a sniper pinning his troops down.

"That's the man we want in Valhalla," the Valkyrie said.

"Fuck me!" I said.

"Well, yes, we can do that. But we would be more comfortable in Valhalla. Shall we go?"

"I suppose so. I thought I was a Christian, so why Valhalla?"

"You thought you were a Christian. You weren't really a Christian. You believed more in the Gods of War. Remember that sniper? What did you say when he hit your rifle?"

"I don't remember. What did I say?"

"You said: 'By Odin, I'll get that bugger!', and you did. You stalked him for an hour before killing him with a single shot from this rifle. A Christian might have called on his God first. Your response was that of a warrior -- a warrior we need in Valhalla."

"For Gotterdammerung?"

"Yes, but we have other battles to fight before the last one, possibly one on the way to Valhalla now. Come on, Eric. Where else could you go?"

She had a good point. Valhalla, especially with these delightful young ladies, seemed very attractive. It seemed much more attractive than Purgatory or Hell might be.

"There's another reason, Eric. You swear by the Norse Gods, so did your father..."

"And my grandfather."

"Exactly. Do you know why?"

"No. I didn't think there was a reason."

"All of you are Wodingas, descended from Woden or Odin. At least that's what the records say unless Loki has been tampering with them. That's another reason for us wanting you, Eric."

"OK, ladies. I'm your man. How..."

"You mount up behind me."

My familiar room had vanished. She was back on an armoured horse that was stamping on the ground impatiently. She held out a hand. I slung my rifle across my back and mounted easily, as easily as if I had been riding horses recently instead of sixty years ago.

"I'm Kara," she said. "That means 'the wild one' or 'the curly one'. Take your choice."

She was certainly curly. Her long red hair curled either side of my head as we galloped across a grassy plain, heading for a shimmering bridge in the distance. Either side of us there were more Valkyries, perhaps twenty. The thunder of the troop of horses was almost deafening.

One of the Valkyries swung her horse close to Kara's and pointed. In the distance ahead but to the left of us a couple of dozen black-clad warriors were riding to cut us off from the bridge.

"Eric, we need you and your rifle now," Kara shouted. "Dismount, and stop them."

She brought her horse to a sudden stop. My face slammed into the mass of her red hair before I could stop myself. I enjoyed the feel and scent but I followed her commands and leapt off. I lay down on the top of a slight mound, took four or five clips out of my pouches, and checked that my rifle had five rounds.

The Valkyries swung right and the black warriors angled towards them. I sighted at the lead rider, about six hundred yards away, and fired.

I hit exactly where I had aimed. His horse went down, killed with a head shot. Three or four riders were thrown into confusion by the sudden fall in their path. I aimed for the horse that emerged from the chaos first.

I fired and worked the bolt with my 1944 familiarity. Three more horses were down before I needed a fresh clip. I had hit a fourth but not stopped him. The riders had swung towards me, making my targets narrower. I aimed at the riders this time, taking three down before loading the third clip.

I had fired all ten rounds so far as fast as I could. The enemy riders were beginning to spread out so I took greater care with my aim for the next five rounds, watching to my right because the Valkyries had drawn swords and were charging from right to left. I had time for yet another five rounds before friend and foe became mixed. My accurate fire had meant that the Valkyries outnumbered their opponents who began to retreat. I picked targets very carefully as the few black riders galloped away, the last one at about eight hundred yards. I saw the rider jerk as my round struck, but I think it just grazed his shoulder.

As the Valkyries rode slowly back towards me I checked that my rifle still had five rounds available. I don't like loading two clips, or more than eight rounds, because the spring isn't always strong enough to move all ten. If I need ten rounds urgently, I'd rather use a Bren gun. 

The plain had a scattering of dead men and horses. One of the horses was still staggering with an obvious broken leg. I shot it dead from a hundred yards away. The couple of wounded riders had been taken away by the few enemy riders who were left to retreat.

As she came back to me Kara gave her reins to another Valkyrie and dismounted. She ran to me, threw her arms around me, and kissed me fiercely. If this was a normal kiss for her, no wonder her name might mean the wild one. I had never been kissed like this. For a few moments I forgot her bronze breast plate and my ammo pouches digging into my chest.

"We knew you were a warrior, Eric, but we didn't expect you to be that deadly..." Kara said.

"Nor did we expect that many of the enemy," another Valkyrie added. "Perhaps it was for the other Eric Smith? What was he like?"

"I didn't know him personally," I replied, "but I know what he was and what he did. He was an artillery sergeant defending the perimeter at Dunkirk in 1940. All the rest of his gun crew were killed by Stuka dive bombers but he continued to fire his 25 pounder alone for an hour until he was killed by a German tank. His action allowed the retreating troops to set up a defensive line behind him."

"But he wouldn't have been as accurate as you with a rifle?" Kara asked.

"That's unlikely. I was one of the most successful snipers in the British Army -- then. Apparently I still am. But if the other Eric had been here with his 25 pounder he would have killed the lot with one round."

"You still are a successful sniper. We don't normally defeat that many so easily. They'll be back."

"Back?"

"Like us, Eric, they are immortal. They, and we, can be killed. That is painful and very unpleasant but we are resurrected within hours. Until the last days, that is. Then those killed in the final battle will be dead forever." 

"I'm not sure I will have enough cartridges if they keep attacking, Kara."

"That's simply remedied, Eric."

Kara waved a hand. I felt my ammo pouches increase in weight.

"You've got a new supply. If you want more, all you have to do is ask. We need our warriors to be well equipped."

"If they're going to attack again, Kara, I could do with some more troops."

"You're doing fine, Eric. You might have deterred them from attacking again. It's less than a mile to Bifrost Bridge and then we're beyond their reach."

Kara was right. We reached the bridge at a gallop. I could see more black riders in the far distance but too far off to intercept us and outside of my rifle's range. If I had one of the modern US sniper's rifles I might just have been able to drop a round among them. Hitting an individual would have been luck, not aim.

Bifrost Bridge felt odd. It was translucent. I could see through it but our horses' hooves treated it as solid. It took an hour to reach the gates of Valhalla. It looked like a massive medieval castle with high walls and towers with more towers inside the outer ring. Our horses' hooves thundered on the wooden drawbridge.

As we rode through the gates the sentries saluted us. They were dressed as Viking warriors with round shields, spears and long swords at their sides. Their helmets were simple without the horns beloved of Victorian illustrators. The sentries looked like fierce battle-hardened men.

"No challenge?" I queried.

"What need?" Kara replied. "You are with the Valkyries. Anyone we bring to Valhalla has already been selected to live with the heroes. But the salute was for you, Eric. Rarely does a single hero cause so much pain to our enemies. The sentries would have seen what you did. Later they'll probably give you a few beers. Up here you can drink as much as you like. In Valhalla there are no hangovers."

"That sounds good. I haven't been able to drink, on doctors' orders, for years."

"Now you can. And, Eric, if you still want to be fucked? There are willing women everywhere. They can't get pregnant. How could they? They're as dead as you are. But -- treat them well. All the women here are heroines, or they wouldn't be in Valhalla. They deserve your respect."

"And honour?"

"That too, Eric. I know you were always a gentleman as well as a deadly sniper. If you treat women here as you did when alive, you'll be popular."

"But I don't get to fuck Valkyries?"

"We don't normally have sex. We're warrior goddesses. We select from among the slain and those heroes who die naturally. So many men die in wars all the time that we're usually too busy for sex. But it's an intriguing idea. Ask me again in a few days' time."

"Thank you, Kara."

"For what?"

"For bringing me to Valhalla."

"That's what I have to do, Eric. I admit I enjoyed bringing you because you are so deadly. I felt real satisfaction as you killed our enemies. Sometimes I might ask you to descend Bifrost with me and protect our approach. If you can keep the enemies at a distance my task would be easier."

"Of course I'll do what I can, Kara."

"But you might like a reward?"

"And you know what reward I'd like."

"OK, Eric. It's a deal. If I need you to be a sniper for me, your reward will be sex with Kara. Whether you'll enjoy that? I don't know."

Kara stopped her horse by a substantial building butted against a castellated wall.

"Dismount now, Eric. You'll be staying here."

A tall blonde woman opened the front door as I reached the ground. She was carrying a bronze shield and a long spear, wearing a bronze cuirass with a metalled skirt like a Roman legionary. A short sword hung by her side.

"This is Eric," Kara said. "Please look after him, Britta. Eric, Britta is your shield maiden, at least for a while. Her task is to introduce you to Valhalla. Your task is to train her to be a sniper. You could be fighting side by side if we Valkyries need your skills. Our enemies should be worried by today. It has been years since so many of them were killed in one action."

Britta stood beside me, facing Kara. Her right hand took my left.

"Thank you, Kara," Britta said. "I am pleased you have given me Eric. I'll try to deserve him."

"You don't need to try, Britta. Eric is here because you already deserve him. You should learn to be proud of each other, and dangerous to our enemies. Eric? Britta has two weeks to show you Valhalla. You have two weeks to start training her as a sniper."

I was about to protest that becoming a skilled sniper took much longer than two weeks. Kara spoke almost as I had the thought.

"Don't underestimate Britta. She will learn a lot in two weeks. After then? I'll expect both of you at the lower end of Bifrost Bridge to protect the returning Valkyries."

Kara reared her horse and cantered away.

Britta's hand squeezed mine.

"Welcome to our home in Valhalla, Eric. The meal is ready for you. But -- as it is to be our joint home, you should carry me across the threshold this time. I'll shed my armour to make me lighter."

Could I? A few hours ago I wouldn't have been able to carry a heavy shopping bag. Now I was dead, in Valhalla and apparently back as the man I had been during the Second World War, could I carry a very substantial woman across a threshold?

I did. It was an effort. Although Britta's armour and weapons had vanished to be replaced by a long dress, she is taller and heavier than me but I staggered through the doorway before lowering her to the floor. She was giggling.

"Perhaps I should have carried you, Eric," Britta said. "That would have been just as effective but the neighbours might have wondered which of us is in charge."

"In charge? At present you are, Britta. I have no idea about Valhalla nor how I was chosen to come here. I need your help, please."

"Thank you, Eric. Not all heroes are so polite to their shield maidens."

"There you are. I have no idea what a shield maiden is, what they do, and how I should treat you. Can you tell me, Britta? Please?"

"I'll start telling you over our meal, Eric, which is ready for us."

The meal was everything I had dreamed of while eating Army rations during the war. All my personal favourites were there. Britta was eating a totally different meal that seemed fish-based. Even when we had finished eating I didn't feel that I had taken too much. I just felt that I had enjoyed food for the first time for years. As we ate, Britta talked.

"A shield maiden is your fighting partner, Eric. She will defend you; you should defend her. She'll watch your back, you watch hers. At the least she would be your loader, your number two on a machine gun, the private to your corporal. At her best the status might be reversed and you would be her back-up, her support. But I think you and I will be equal partners standing side by side against our enemies."

"How did you become a shield maiden, Britta?" I asked. "I don't know why I was chosen. Why were you?"

"I was in the Norwegian resistance during the war. I was captured and tortured by the Gestapo. They wanted me to betray my comrades. I didn't. Unusually they didn't kill me. They started with a multiple rape. That didn't encourage me to talk so they wrecked my body instead. They cut off all my fingers and toes, one by one, and blinded me. When it was obvious I wasn't going to break they injected me with several disease germs then punctured my eardrums and cut out my tongue. I couldn't see, hear nor speak. They threw me out on the street as a warning to other members of the resistance expecting that I might die. I lived for about six months as a crippled wreck. When I eventually died I ended up in Valhalla with the body you see now -- undamaged."

"No one deserved to be treated as you were." I said. "Some of the Germans were monsters."

"But not all, Eric. There are many Germans from that war here in Valhalla. Some of them believed in the Norse Gods. The good ones came here. The bad ones? Some of them are the enemies we fight daily, and will fight to the death at Gotterdammerung."

"I'll try to remember that, Britta. I never hated Germans. I just killed them."

"Killing? That reminds me of some of the things you need to know about Valhalla. We're dead. We don't have to eat, nor drink. We do, for enjoyment. We don't produce any bodily wastes so there are no toilets or sewage systems. Our food and drink is produced if we want it with no preparation, nor washing up. If we want to be clean, not that we get really dirty, we just think ourselves clean. I'll have to do some things for you until you learn how to do it for yourself. For example -- you're wearing battledress. Inside Valhalla that isn't necessary. Try this."

Britta waved a hand at me. She had changed my clothes into casual trousers and an open necked shirt. My battledress was neatly folded on a chair with my rifle leaning against it. I felt more comfortable. 

"And for me?"

Britta had changed into a clinging blue dress that emphasised her curves and exposed her cleavage.

"Like that, Eric?"

"Like it? You're giving me ideas I thought I had forgotten."

"You're young again, Eric. We don't need to worry about pregnancy or infections. Any of us can make love without consequences. I've waited years for a suitable hero. Are you going to be my hero, Eric?"

"Are you sure, Britta?"

"Sure? Of course I'm sure. How long is it since you had sex? Twenty years? I haven't since 1943. Anyway, if you're going to fuck Kara the Valkyrie you need practice and stamina."

"You know about Kara?"

"Everyone knows, Eric. You're famous, or infamous. You are the first hero who has been so effective against our enemies for years, and the only one in five hundred years who has suggested fucking a Valkyrie. The legends say that fucking a Valkyrie is a fantastic experience but deadly. We can die, as those you killed today die, but are painfully resurrected within hours. Death from fucking a Valkyrie is supposed to be more long lasting, a couple of days or even a week. Which reminds me. I don't want to die again, Eric. I'll be back as I was when the Gestapo threw me on the street, in agony but unable to express my pain."

"I'll do what I can to prevent that, Britta. If we are partners in war..."

"...and in bed."

"I'll do my best in both situations."

"Come on, Eric. I want you in our bed now."

Britta took my hand and led me upstairs to a large bedroom. In the centre was a massive four-poster bed. We stripped each other slowly and carefully. Britta's body showed no signs of what the Gestapo had done to her. I couldn't believe how good my own body was now. I had forgotten what it was like to be young, fit, and how quickly an erection could happen faced with a naked young woman.