The Telemachus Story Archive

Gian Snow and the Seven Dwarves
By Wolfpek (Illustrated by Wolfpek)
Email: Wolfpek

Gian Snow and the Seven Dwarves

By Wolfpek


This is a story requested of me many years ago. I have finally got round to writing it.

I have named a character in this story Lucien, after a wonderful member of the Telemachus community, who has left us. This story is dedicated to his memory.

This is a work of fantasy fiction. It contains graphic scenes of man on man nonconsensual sex. This is a fantasy only. Rape is torture and is not condoned by the author in any way. If such scenes offend you then do not continue to read.

One could almost see the rosy golden skin through the thin worn fabric. It was the fashion for young men to wear tight hose, and these hose, white as snow stretched over the firm thighs like a second skin.

The youth was too guileless to flaunt his hard athletic body, but also too careless to bother with new clothes, and he had more than outgrown the over taxed breeches.

Cesare de Maciavolo was mesmerized by the way the thick heavily muscled thighs and beefy round ass moved under the threadbare tights, muscles taught with exertion of training with the fencing master, whom he had clearly begun to surpass.


A string of drool oozed from Cesare’s mouth and carefully shaped goatee as the bare skin of the stud’s broad, sweat slicked, chest peaked from his billowing shirt.

It did not matter how he ached to take the stud, the youth would be dead within the week. Tragically would not have the luxury of raping him, the way he had enjoyed his luscious, trusting father, his own step-brother, before the poison finished him off.

How could he have predicted the son would surpass his father in beauty? He couldn’t risk suspicion by killing him in the same way.

In four days the young prince would turn twenty, and assume the throne, ending Cesare’s regency. No matter how he lusted for the hunky prince, he couldn’t let that happen.

Once he was king, he could have other young studs, even if they would never match the beauty of this young prince.

“He’s not going to be easy to kill, your Grace” The mirror’s silvery voice carried a bit too much snark. “He’s not only the fairest of all, he’s become the most powerful and able warrior in the land. You’ll need an army”


“Then an army I shall send” Snapped the regent. “Summon the master of the hunt”

“Still, too bad you’ll never get to have that fine ass. I’d liked to have watched that.”

The foppish Regent threw a goblet meant to shatter the offending glass, but it was stopped just shy of contact, and clattered to the floor. Magic mirrors had ways of defending themselves.

“A hunting trip?”

The blue of those eyes was so intense, Cesare felt he might faint and melt away on the spot, just the way all the young maidens of the court blushed in the stud’s presence.

The scheming Regent cleared his throat, and hoped his smile looked more sincere than avaricious.

Why did the lad have to be so damn beautiful?

His hair, soft and dark as a raven’s wing, which contrasted sharply with his fair unblemished skin. Square jawed and ruggedly masculine, his face was also perfectly proportioned, open and somehow kind.

The youth was the apex of masculine perfection. Cesare longed to ravish him.


Resurrecting the styles of the pagan ancients was all the rage among scholars, and artists these days, and many painters and sculptors, hearing of the prince’s beauty had flocked to court to immortalize him in oil and marble. Posing him as some Greco-Roman hero, god or such. One short-tempered old queen, had come north from Florence, so the lad could model for his masterpiece of a young King David. Although it didn’t quite do the youth justice, the Regent had to admit it was a stunning work of art. He smiled, knowing that at least the youth’s beauty would live on, after his untimely death.


“I thought it might be relaxing before the coronation. You’re already packed. I’ve arranged everything. It’s my present to you. Happy birthday, lad. Off you go”

Prince Gianlucca Della Neve’s handsome brow furrowed in confusion. His step uncle was being unusually kind, after a lifetime of rarely rewarded hard work, often manual labor, constant, thankless study and physical training, which had sculpted his body to classical perfection, and his mind into that of a disciplined, capable and kind, young nobleman, such generosity was unprecedented

Still, not to be turned down. He loved hunting, a chance to get out into the wild,, and breathe a bit, away from the rigors and responsibilities of court, and the increasingly unsettling way the regent had begun to stare at him in recent years. Perhaps since he was about to assume his place as king, his uncle was beginning to show a bit of deference.


“Why, thank you uncle. That is most kind” he bowed and left the chamber.

He passed, a few giggling young ladies in the throne rooms ante chamber who curtsied looking up at him hopefully. He smiled back. They were lovely. Maybe before the trip he could indulge. He’d been aware he’d always have his pick of the prettiest girls for sometime now, even if he wasn’t yet king.

Despite his looks, he was determined not to be vain. He meant to be a strong ruler, but equitable and kind, like his father, or so he’d been told. His mother died giving him life, leaving him orphaned at three when the beloved king died. His only knowledge of his parents was second had. He wished they could be here to guide him when he claimed his throne.

The wounded boar rushed unexpectedly and with lightening speed, out of the woods, at one of the guards. At the last moment, it fell, an arrow through its eye at the unarmed soldier’s feet.

Gianlucca lowered his bow, the image of a mythic hero, legs planted wide with the pine and snow covered Alps behind him.

“Good shot your highness. You saved my life. Too bad we must take yours”

The five guards drew their swords and rushed him.

Only his superior swordsmanship, and lighting fast reflexes save the shocked young man’s life as the battle joined. With his back to the ravine he met, and dropped, his attackers ably.

He was not fast enough to react as Lucien, Master of the Hunt, flew at him, wrapping his powerful arms around him, knocking them both over the ravine ducking a hail of arrows which rained on the outcropping from all directions.

Wrapped around each other, the men rolled in a desperate embrace down the mountainside landing in a shallow brook, for the moment, out of the archers sight. Gianlucca found himself soaking wet and on his back with Lucien’s big hard muscled body laying heavily on top of his, muscle pressing into muscle. The two stud’s eyes met gazing deeply in silence for what seemed an eternity, lips so close together they shared breath.

“I’m sorry, your highness.” Lucien tried to pull himself together but could not quite tear his gaze away from those deep blue eyes. “I couldn’t do it”

Gianlucca could not speak

“He, your uncle, sent us, sent me, to kill you” Lucien whispered, and lowered his head in shame, blonde stubble grazing against black

The blue eyes widened. Lucien’s hips moved, ever so slightly against the prince’s


“He ordered me to bring him.. part of your body, but I can’t.. I lo… You, your father was so good to my family.”

Sounds of men running interrupted his awkward stammering.

Lucien sat up.

“They’re coming!”

The Prince’s jaw set. Lucien could see he was ready to fight. Still straddling him. He held his wrists down.

Both hunk’s clothes were soaked to transparency.

“These woods are crawling with Cesare’s archers. Even for you, my liege, there are too many to fight.” He stood pulling the prince by the wrists to his feet, placed his hands on his broad shoulders looking deeply in to his eyes.

“Listen, if he doesn’t kill you this way, he’ll find another. I will hold them off. You must run!”



Gianlucca tore off into the woods.

Lucien heard a rustling in the brush nearby, and drew his bow.

Cesare chuckled softly at the sight of a pair of unusually large testicles resting on the red velvet lining of the casket, held by the kneeling Lucien.

He cupped the blonde giant’s square jaw in his manicured, heavily ringed hand.

“You have done well huntsman”

Pinkey fingers delicately aloft, he gingerly lifted the oval treasures from the box, and tossed them onto a bed of aromatic vegetables simmering in a pan over the fire where they were tended by his cook, and sat at the end of his long table. The cook laid the dish before him. He skewered one with his fork.

“I’ve longed for years to roll one of these in my mouth. Better this way, I suppose, than not at all” Cesare’s malicious laugh chilled the handsome hunter to the bone.

Lucien kept his eyes on the floor. He could not bear to watch the Regent chew.

Gianlucca woke, with a start, to 14 eyes staring at him.

He had run through the dark forest throughout the night, under a steady fall of Alpine spring rain, until, in the rosy pre-dawn light, he made out a small cabin. The door was not locked and he stumbled inside the leaking cottage. His mind reeled, not only from the shock of his uncle’s attempt to murder him, but also the confusion of the inexplicable heat he had shared with the Master of the Hunt.

The big macho huntsman did not, at all, seem that sort. Gian knew very well of Lucien’s famous attraction to, and prowess with, the ladies of the court.

Yet the feeling of Lucien’s big hard body resting on top of his own, still made something within his body thrill.

Rain continued to fall from the decayed rafters.

This won’t do, he thought. He found some wood and tools in the corner, and handily repaired the roof, before falling exhausted across some unusually small beds.

As he forced himself to wake, the 14 eyes came into focus. They seemed to belong to seven, startled, and very tiny men in leather, staring down at his the prone form, tight hose and shirt plastered to translucency against his heavily muscled body.


The tallest of them could not have stood more than a meter and a half tall.

“Who are you?” asked the chief dwarf trying hard not to stare at the big, delicious looking cock outlined by the second skin of hose. “How did you come to be in our house? Did you fix our roof?”

They seemed unsurprised to hear of the hated Regent’s treachery. The local villages had suffered greatly under his iron rule, and looked forward to the time when the young price would assume the throne, hoping he would be as just and benevolent as his father had been.

They conferred among themselves in whispered German, the language of the common folk in this tiny mountain kingdom

“You must stay here with us, your highness, until you can muster enough force to take back your throne”

The small men introduced themselves.

The white bearded Doc , with wise eyes glinting above dusty wire spectacles was there leader.

A very hirsute Brummbar, glowered at him. He did not seem to want a guest.

Happy had a very firm handshake, and a habit of off colour jokes. He said “A funny thing happened the other day. I walked up to a maiden and said “What do you say to a little fuck?’ the only response was ‘hullo little fuck”.

The price smiled politely

Doc elbowed Schlafmutze, who jumped, said “I’m awake” and bowed.

Seppl shook his hand and asked who he was again.

Gian did not like to take Hatschi’s hand. The lower half of his face, his sleeves, and hands were covered in a viscous mucous. He sneezed, wiped his hand on his tunic, and bowed instead.

Finally Doc pulled little Pimpel, out from behind his back. The smallest dwarf, kept his eyes cast down to the floor and stammered a greeting.

Gianlucca quickly became an essential part of the house hold. While the dwarves crawled into the small mining caverns, where only they could fit, the youth chopped down trees, rebuilt the cottage, plowed fields, and assumed all the tasks that someone of his size and impressive strength, that the little leather men could not.


Eventually, like a young Robin Hood, he even took on the Regent’s corrupt tax collectors, and sent them packing. Thus he earned the respect, and gratitude, of the nearby villagers. He began to train the local men in the art of combat, hoping to build a force to challenge the usurper.

He enjoyed the time in the cottage but found it a bit strange. One day in the corner of the cellar he found a collection of strange looking devices, some leather whips, and restraints

‘Oh those are just old tools we use.” Said Doc nervously. “You know, in the mine. Yes, that’s it. Those are tools we use in the, you know, in the mine. No need to trouble yourself with these”

Cesare backhanded a tax collector, knocking him to the floor.

“What do you mean you were robbed? You had a ten man guard!”

“I’m sorry sire, that bandit has the strength of twenty men.”

“Throw him into the dungeon, until I regain the taxes he owes me.”

The protesting man was carted away.

Cesare looked in the mirror and smiled.

“You see? I am a true king now”

The mirror replied:

“Yes, you queen. You rule, it’s true

but handsome Gianlucca who lives with the dwarves,is a thousand times better ruler than you…. And so handsome too.”


“It’s true, sire. The huntsman deceived you. Those were boar testicles you ate. I think the locals call it mountain oyster.”

Cesare flew into a rage, knocking over his desk

“Find the huntsman”

Gianlucca had been chopping wood all day. Sweat plastered his shirt against his massive pectorals, and rippling abdominal muscles. These months of hard manual labor had transformed him from an impressively beautiful youth into a strong and powerful man. A hungry man, too. He had not yet had lunch, and returned to the cottage to find the cupboard a bit bare.

Suddenly there was a knock at the door.


An old peddler stood on the stoop with a basket of really beautiful looking golden apples.

“Care to buy an apple, young sir?” whined the peddler. “I dare say you will find it’s flesh, as rosy gold, hard, ripe, and firm as your own.”

Gianlucca blushed. “What a strange thing to say. I’m sorry, but these are dangerous times to take food from strangers. I think I will have to decline, but here is a coin for your troubles.”

“I thank you sir, but I am too proud for charity. I’ll tell you what” the peddler said choosing the most enticing apple from the basket. “How about I cut this one in half. I’ll eat half first, and then you’ll know it’s safe.”

It sounded reasonable, besides he was hungry and it looked so good.

The ancient peddler ate his half without harm, so Gianlucca bit into the sweet golden flesh of the fruit.

It was very sweet like sticky honey, so much so that he seemed to smell it. It invaded his nostrils like gooey treacle. It became difficult to breathe.

The honey seemed to fill the room, so that he floated in a viscous golden liquid, carrying him in buzzing crashing waves on some distant dreaming shore. Each wave filled him with a deep aching, uncontrollable arousal. His whole body began to tingle. His erect cock was swollen and engorged to the point of pain.

His heart began to race, and pound insistently in his ears, over the humming buzz of the waves.

He felt like a fly caught in amber.

Through the blurred golden haze, he made out the peddler’s concerned face, mouthing words of concern, which he could not hear over the crashing buzz in his head.

The toothless ancient’s look of concern grew into a leering grin. He heard the old man’s cackling laugh as if it came from another room.

The laughing apple seller’s face began to bubble, and change through the honeyed haze until it morphed into the laughing face of Cesare, the usurper!

Gianlucca’s world spun into darkness.

The apple dropped from his hand.

Blackness overcame him, and the stud collapsed, unmoving, on to the pine floor.

The foppish traitor looked down lasciviously at the feast before him.

Gianlucca lay on his back, his head turned away from the apple. His arms outstretched, one knee slightly bent. His back arched his chest up voluptuously the cleavage of his muscular pectorals peeked, teasingly bare from his open shirt.

Cesare fell to his knees next to his beautiful victim.

A long sharp, laquered fingernail, lovingly traced the manly square jaw and combed through the dark hair, softer than he had dreamed it would be.

“Oh my sleeping beauty, how I’ve longed to touch you like this, to take you. I never thought it would be possible, but now you’ve made it so.”

Breathing heavily Cesare took his victim’s square jaw in his hand and gently kissed those soft lips, forcing his tongue deep into the throat.

He pushed the fabric of the shirt apart to reveal a pert red nipple which capped the massif of the granite pectoral muscle. He circled the rubbery nub with his finger, pinched it playfully, tickled it with the tip of his tongue, before closing his lips around it, and suckling finally biting down hard. Running his free hand down the still form to grab the engorged rod hard cock.

Then he heard singing. The dwarves were approaching up the garden path, bellowing their familiar tune.

“Curses! I must not be discovered. I fear, my specimen of beauty, we must wait to consummate my possession of you, but I assure you, we will continue this. For now, your friends will never wake you. Hahahahahaaa”

The cackling villain dashed out the back door, bust as the dwarves entered the front.

The dwarves merriment ended abruptly as the discovered their fallen hunk immobile on the floor before them. His firm muscled chest exposed by his open shirt, a raging erection straining against his skin tight hose, and an apple missing a bite lying on the ground beside him.


“It’s the Regent” shouted Doc. “He’s discovered our prince, and tricked him into eating poison!”

They shouted stamped, and slapped, but could not wake him.

Doc knelt on the floor and laid his head against the hunk’s naked breast, to listen for a heart beat. It felt so good to rest his head there.

“He lives” Doc sighed. “He lives under a spell. We cannot wake him until we find a way to break the spell.”

Doc did not rise, but kept his head against the hard chest muscles. His hand began to wander along the exposed flesh, further opening the shirt to reveal sharply defined rippling abdominals. His fingers found their way back to the same nipple Cesare had tormented moments before.

“Doc! What are you doing???”

“Weeeellll… He is sleeping. He’ll never know. You have to admit he’s teased us all these months with those tight hose. Removing his shirt to chop wood. We’ve all dreamed of touching him, and taking him. Brothers this is a something of a gift. Maybe just this once.”

His hand found it’s way under the hose to grasp the thick, hard cock.

This seemed like sound logic.

Hatschi was the first to follow. “Oh beautiful Prince” he said bending down to kiss those tender parted hips with his sloppy mucous covered face “I’m sorry my Prince. “ he slurped “You’re so sexy, we just have to have you”

The little dwarves fell on the beefy stud like hyenas upon a fallen Emperor stag.

They pushed his shirt up to his neck to reveal the sculpted torso which they reverently groped, licked kissed and bit.

Taking their time, the removed his boots. Hatschi, especially sucked on every toe, until Seppl began to tug on the waste band of the prince’s tight hose.

“Brother’s should we do this?”

“How can such a beautiful hunk of beef wear such tight hose, and not expect to be fucked? We’ve come too far to stop now.”


Slowly and worshipfully they pulled down the hose. The helpless stud was naked save for the briefest strip of protective cloth. The dwarves never stopped ravishing his entire body, as the teasingly manipulated the tiny bands, revealing bits of pubic hair until they could stand it no longer. Without yet removing the band, they revealed the thick, beautifully proportioned cock. They paused, for a silent moment of eternity to admire the finally revealed cock. It was lucky Happy who, trembling, pulled the balls downward, and licked up the fat blue vein which ran along the shaft, teasing the slit with his tongue until he finally took the whole thing in his mouth. He held it there savoring the salty taste, before riding it with his mouth up, and down, until gulping down the youth’s hot vital seed

Each dwarf had a turn while the others worshipped the rest of the body. Gianlucca proved to be an inexhaustible fountain of cum. Whatever this spell was, he was never depleted.

Brummbar and Pimpel each took a wrist and pulled. They dragged the limp hunk to a barrel that Schlafmutze had turned on it’s side. Seppl and Happy grabbed an ankle. The muscle man was three times their size, but they managed to throw the Prince, face down over the barrel. His soft black hair grazed the floor between his big resting hands, his knees squarely on the ground as praying.


The dwarves stood back in awe. They all had longingly stolen glances of those beefy glutes barely concealed by his clinging translucent hose, but they had never before seen the perfectly spherical, thickly muscled, orbs bared, and so pleasingly displayed bent over. Accentuating their firm shape, as round, mouthwatering, and bite-able as the apple which had felled the stud.

They decided it was best to allow Hatschi to provide lubricant. The moist little dwarf was more than delighted to be the first to place grubby hands upon the taught flesh. He marveled at the steely hardness of the muscles. With some effort he pulled the cheeks apart to discover the tiny pink hole. He started at the perineum just behind the balls and lovingly licked his way up the crack and nuzzeled in between the firm cheeks, swinging his head back and forth, making a “bbrrrrrrrbrrr” sound, and foraging, tongue first, into the dark un chartered territory of the virgin hole.


Doc, as the leader was given first right of entry. Despite their diminutive stature, the dwarves were endowed with huge heavily veined cocks resembling gnarled tree trunks. Docs coc, raging further after months of frustration, watching the beef babe of a prince, often shirtless, performing tasks of manual labor in nothing but those skin tight hose. It was a blessing the hunk was sleeping, as he could not otherwise have born the pain of the violation.


Doc meant to be gentle, but it was impossible to control his passion. He punished the helpless hole for the months of watching those muscles flex and strain under the skin- tight fabric. The stud’s hole felt like a snug heaven around his rampaging dick.

Each dwarf had his turn, over and over again, until the cock crowed to announce the morning and they collapsed, spent, around their sleeping plaything.

After that night, they worked out an equitable weekly schedule, in which each dwarf had his private time with the sleeping beauty.



Doc was something of an inventor and dwarf of science. He developed a number of experiments to learn about the youth’s unfortunate condition, as well as to develop new techniques of sexual stimulation upon the bodies of athletic young men. He discovered that in the stud’s condition of stasis, his hunky body healed from almost any injury instantly allowing him a margin of error not possible upon a normal young man.

He built a man shaped cage, which mirrored the contours of the unfortunate prince’s body, as if lying on the ground.

He would lay the helpless young stud on the floor, at first, face up with the cage placed over his body, and chained his wrists and ankles to it. There was a small door to the cage just over the delicious cock, which allowed him to fondle or suck the youth’s cock. He would also flip him over, and place the cage over him, as he lay face down.


He attached some wires to the cage leading to a metal pole in the ground out side the cottage. During thunderstorms, he found that if he held onto the cage with one hand, while he waive his other along the curves and planes of the muscular form, sparks would fly from his finger tips causing the stud’s body to involuntarily shudder and jig. Naturally he would open the little cage door and merrily spend hours fucking that delicious ass.

Eventually he would bind Gianlucca face up on a metal table, his ankles bound from the ceiling. He attached those same wires to a metal cock he had made and inserted it into the much abused hole. When lightening struck, he enjoyed watching the body shiver as the current flowed deep within the prince’s center.


Hatschi liked thingas wet slick and shiny. He built a huge tub and would fill it with oil and other viscous fluids rolling around in it with the limp muscle bound beauty, until bending him over the edge, and spending many a merry hour eating out the stud’s delicious hole.

Some times he would pour ale into the hole and slurp it out.

Sometimes he would simply tie Gianlucca to a chair, and scrape the oil off him, with long blades, he’d attached to his tiny fingers, while nursing on the beautiful thick cock.



Brummabr usually began by binding Gianlucca’s wrists to the rafters and simply whip him with a collection of whips and cudgels, while the stud simply swayed under the blows

Then he would drag him to the large bed they had constructed to accommodate his large frame. He would pull the hunk to a kneeling position, then forcing his chest down to the bed, forcing that delicious meaty ass up. He would tie his wrists behind his back. Once in this vulnerable position he liked to drip hot candle wax all over his victims body, before flogging it off.

He liked to pull the cheeks apart and gently flick the drying wax away before plunging first his tongue, and then his cock into the stud’s ass



../../shimages/wolfpek_giansnow/wolfpek_giansnowandthesevendwarves01_html_2c710872.jpg Of course Schlafmutze, liked to curl up against the big strong chest, nestle himself in the big arms and nap.

../../shimages/wolfpek_giansnow/wolfpek_giansnowandthesevendwarves01_html_13624528.png Other times he would affix clothespins to the nipples and simply suckle the cock, or fall asleep with his face buried in between the two big ass cheeks, like pillows.


Pimpel did not like to be seen. He would drag Gianlucca deep into the mines, out of everyone’s sight. He would tie him within a large metal paddle wheel. Face out for sucking. Face in, for spanking and fucking.


../../shimages/wolfpek_giansnow/wolfpek_giansnowandthesevendwarves01_html_26ffdfe4.png Happy’s favorite thing to do was to lay the poor stud face down on the bed. ../../shimages/wolfpek_giansnow/wolfpek_giansnowandthesevendwarves01_html_m7d0549c9.jpg With ropes he had attached to the rafters would tie knots around each upper thigh and one around his slender waist, thus creating a sort of harness for the big muscle ass, with easy access to his cock.


He could spend all day sucking, rimming and fucking. He also had fashioned a wooden penis on a stick, so he could get a better view from an objective distance of what the beautiful ass looked like being fucked.



Seppl considered himself something of a sculptor and was always looking for a way to display the stud, as the work of art he was.

He drilled a series of holes into the wall and could peg rods into them at varying positions, laying the bound stud over them in various configurations, always leaving him open for sucking or fucking.


He hung a leather sling from the ceiling, into which he laid the hunk allowing him to swing back and forth onto and, off of, his waiting cock.

He constructed a pair of large metal wings from wings he would suspend the hapless prince, over the entrance to the cottage, giving him the appearance of a bound angel.

It was Seppl who came up with the idea that they could rent him out to the villagers for extra money.


The local farmers, gladly paid, and were soon lining up to take a turn. Once while Doc was away they threw a sort of fair, during which they designed several interesting games the locals could play with the sleeping muscle stud.

When Doc returned, he found that they had bound his arms, wide out onto the lowest rung of a metal ladder, to which his ankles were also tied.

A local farmer was wondering around blindfolded holding a wooden cock, while onlookers else placed bets. They were playing “Pin the Cock in the Stud”.

Doc lost his temper and chided the assembly.

“This is our friend. He worked hard for us, and protected us from the Regent’s tax collectors. He is our prince and rightful heir to the throne.

We have gone too far. We must treat him with a bit more respect until we can revive him, and he can rule our land”

Everyone hung their heads in sorrow and shame.

The dwarves crafted a beautiful crystal casket, into which they laid the nude sleeping beauty, and placed it on the mountain where they kept guard over it day and night.


One day a burly bearded young giant hunk, in leather armor, rode up with an entourage.

He was Lucien, the former master of the hunt, He explained the members of the court had risen up against Cesares’ cruel avaricious rule, and were running the kingdom together, until the young king could return to assume the throne. He believed he knew the way to revive him.

They showed him to the crystal casket, and he knelt before it, humbled by the beauty of the young prince within.

He asked the court if the could bring the casket back to the palace

They agreed and marched in sad, but hopeful procession, behind the casket, which was laid in a special place of honor in the center of the throne room.

Lucien and the dwarves stood around the young beauty slumbering in the casket.

Lucien confessed awkwardly, that he had always loved the prince, and felt certain that he could be revived with true love’s first kiss.

They opened the casket and Lucien leaned in, gazing into his face the same way as when they lay together in the babbling brook, so long ago.

The Teutonic hunk, tenderly pressed his lips against those of the beautiful young price, at first hesitantly and then with passionate force. He felt the young stud’s lips respond in kind, and the prince’s muscular arms wrapped around Lucien’s broad back, pulling him down toward him.


Gianlucca’s eyes flew open, and became alarmed. He was naked, and kissing a man! Deep down he knew he enjoyed it.

Lucien knelt “My King” he said.

When he heard the story of what had happened, he thanked the dwarves, promising to bring them back to the palace for a great feast and reward, but first he must be alone with Lucien to recover.

Overjoyed the dwarves made their way home.

Gianlucca blushed as he returned Lucien’s loving gaze. Lucien placed a hand on his shoulder.

Something in the far end of the room caught his eye

It was Lucien. Naked, and hanging by his ankles, from the rafters. Whip marks covered his body. He had clearly been sexually violated. How could this be??


He turned confused, to see that the hand on his shoulder actually belonged to Cesare!

Cesare had used magic to appear as Lucien and betray the young prince!

“You see? I promised I would have you” the snickering Regent laughed.

Cesare plunged a syringe into Ginalucca’s neck and the beautiful young stud fell, sleeping once more over the wicked usurper’s shoulder.


He carried his victim back to the throne. He sat down, and pulled the stud on to his cock.

“You see my sleeping beauty? You finally get to sit on the throne.”

Cesare spent the rest of a very happy week fucking both Lucien and Gianlucca, in many inventive positions around the palace.

It is said, if you are courageous enough to find yourself in the tiny lost mountain kingdom, high in the mist of the Italian Alps, and make your way into the palace throne room, that you will find, to this very day, a sleeping beauty encased in a dazzling crystal casket, and perhaps, if you are very lucky, you can spend many an happy hour with him.