Published at 2nd of September 2019 3:42 pm

Volume 1, Chapter 3 Part 1

This chapter is updated by NovelFree.ml

But what Walker found even more painful was that his self-esteem now hung in shreds --- Wiltshire! Carving that name deeply into his heart, the Scotsman chose to swallow his anger for the moment.

Watching that strong back as it slowly disappeared from his line of vision, Wiltshire smiled and fished out a pocket watch --- it was already time for dinner but on this afternoon, he had finally found a way to amuse himself, something that could save him from dying of boredom in Stonehaven.

Walker Robinson, we shall meet again! [1]

Although that's what he said, seven days would pass before Wiltshire’s next meeting with Walker transpired --- Earl Thuram of Darwen came up from London to pay him a surprise visit, disrupting his original plan.

The Earl was Wiltshire's good friend, but he had another secret identity, one that he would be widely condemned by everyone for. As the Prince Regent's only long-term male companion, he possessed power and influence that could not be rivalled by any of the other peers in the kingdom. Along with everybody else, Wiltshire could not figure out why his good friend, who was born a member of the aristocracy and held titles of nobility in his own right in addition to having extraordinarily handsome looks, would be willing to take up with the gormless, obese and wanton Prince Regent. But every time he would put this question to Darwen, he would just smile but make no reply. After the same scene played out several times, Wiltshire stopped pursuing that line of questioning.

Unfortunately, Earl Thuram, who had been secretly ordered to go to Stonehaven by the Prince Regent, soon came down with malaria, which had been circulating in the vicinity. After taking to his bed for a whole week, his health was restored but as soon as that happened, he requested that Wiltshire accompany him back to London.

Although Wiltshire's heart had already grown tired of the dreariness of life in Stonehaven, the prospect of having to meet with the Prince Regent again caused him to resist Thuram's proposal instinctively. After he had persisted in opposing the idea, he finally got Thuram to at least agree to return to London before him, but the Marquess was obliged to make his own departure from Stonehaven within three days.

As the time for departure drew near, Wiltshire was still idling his time away. In his infinite ennui, his thoughts began to turn to the Scotsman who he had pressed against the wall of his guestroom and violated. With his interest thus piqued, he summoned Brad and asked for directions to the Robinson family home before setting off in that direction by himself, while harbouring a feeling of eagerness at the opportunity to try something new; a feeling that surprised even himself.

By the time he had hurried over to the outlying reaches of the territory of Stonehaven where the Robinson homestead was situated, it was already close to noon. Riding on a horse, Wiltshire immediately spotted Walker, who was toiling in the fields. He was not alone; by his side were two young boys and an elderly man who had a face that was heavily lined with wrinkles.

Standing in the farmland, bathed in the autumn sun, Walker raised the hoe high before sinking it into the ground at his feet and pulling hard. Sweat fell continuously from his neck and forehead, falling onto the dark brown soil. Every time he raised his arm, the well-developed muscles of his arm and chest would bunch up so much that they seemed to be totally revealed through his thin undershirt [2] --- it was obviously a rather mundane scene of farm labour, but somehow, when it was viewed through Wiltshire's eyes, he could not help but to feel his throat beginning to run dry.

Damn, his trousers seemed to be of too tight a fit today --- feeling his nether regions begin to swell up, and the crotch of his trousers grow uncomfortably tight, he began to regret choosing to wear this new pair of trousers today. He urged his horse forward, stopping in front of Walker, who was still working industriously.

“Good older brother of Winifred, how have you been lately?” He made a great effort to make his voice sound as pleasant as the weather on this fine day but when Walker subsequently jerked his head up, the expression he was wearing was more appropriate for someone who had just heard Satan beckoning.

Wiltshire smiled as he drank in the sight of Walker's entire body with his eyes --- the determined chin, the broad and solid chest, the firm and tight waist, the strong upper thighs… last of all, his suggestive gaze travelled to that area between his legs, flickering over there for a few seconds before finally coming to a stop in that very impolite position.

Golden hair that shimmered under the sunshine with enough radiance to dazzle the eyes, a teasing gaze that glinted with indecent enticements; when Walker was met with this sight, he gasped with shock and his body also trembled --- albeit almost imperceptibly --- but he rapidly managed to restore his equilibrium.

Setting down the hoe he held in his hand, he used the towel that was draped around his neck to wipe off the sweat that dripped down continuously before putting on a mocking attitude as he gave Wiltshire a slight bow and said: “My honourable Lord Marquess, what wind blows you here?”

Wiltshire gave a wide grin and laughed, his snow-white teeth gleaming in the sun as he said: “I did say that we would meet again, did I not? Also, frankly speaking, at every single moment for the past few days, I have been thinking of your beautiful kilt and underneath your kilt, the...”

“Shut up!” It was evident that Walker could not believe that he could actually talk about this kind of topic in broad daylight.

“My Lord, perhaps you have forgotten this, but I think I had better give you a reminder. I only have one younger sister and she has already gotten married. If you are still thinking of using such a ridiculous excuse as jus primae noctis…”

When he mentioned the phrase "jus primae noctis", he abruptly paused and did not continue speaking. An unmistakable blush also flitted across his suntanned face and Wiltshire knew that he must be thinking of his own "first night" --- the memory of being buried deeply into Walker's smoulderingly-hot, tight and resisting body flashed across his own mind, causing area under his abdomen to feel as though it was being stretched even more taut, and he could not help but to give a swallow.

Taking great care not to have anything brush against the swollen desire that hung between his legs, Wiltshire dismounted from the horse. Thus obscured by the horse, he brazenly brought his lips beside Walker's ears.

“If you don't wish for me to make loud proclamations right here about how tight, how hot and how narrow your asshole is, then immediately...” He pointed to the forest that bordered the field, “We need to find a place where we can have a good chat.”

He deliberately moved impossibly close to Walker; so that with every single word he spoke and every time that he breathed, he sent a hot puff of air wafting against Walker's ear. He saw with satisfaction that Walker's angry eyes now gleamed with a murderous look. Shrugging his shoulders, he walked ahead, into the small forest.

He heard Walker's footsteps following behind him but Wiltshire did not turn back for a look and continued to move forward, only stopping when they were deep in the forest.

“What exactly do you want?” Almost immediately, an angry voice rang out, evidently, Walker's patience had been stretched nearly to the breaking point.

Aristocratic lords invariably liked their playthings to be fresh, wasn't it so? And he had already submitted to humiliation and allowed Wiltshire to toy with him, how could that not have been enough! That day, if it weren't for the fact that his family was waiting for him to return with Winifred to commence the wedding, Walker would be willing to swear that he would have ripped the Marquess to shreds the moment he opened his poisonous mouth and made that shameless demand.

He swept his contemptuous glance over Wiltshire, who was opposite him, leaning against a tree. That aristocrat! Although he could not be considered short, but with the type of slender build he possessed, what physical strength could he possibly have!

Wiltshire answered his question with silence. With big strides, he walked over to Walker and with no hesitation, he divested himself of his trousers and casually tossed them aside.

His pent-up desire that he had had to endure for such a long time could finally be fully exposed and the sex organ on his lower body stood up proudly, pointing straight at Walker. Engorged with blood, the organ was continuing to grow and the transparent fluid that hung from its front end was undeniable evidence of his lust.

Walker was so shocked by the scene before his eyes that he was totally stunned; as if he were under some enchantment, he stood stiffly, rooted to the same spot. He could not tear his eyes away from the hard and erect thing that Wiltshire was displaying before his eyes and his facial muscles were twitching uncontrollably.

“What do I want! Isn’t that obvious enough!” Wiltshire said placidly; in the next second he had pulled Walker, who was caught off-guard and thus unable to put up any resistance, into his arms. “I want to strip off all of your clothes, I want to kiss every part of your body fiercely, I want to use my hand to knead your nipples until they are swollen and sore! I want to fondle you until you are utterly spent and can orgasm no more!! I want to humiliate you until you cry out and beg me to enter your body!!!”

As he clearly enunciated words that would make even the most seasoned prostitute in the metropolis of London blush by the side of Walker's ear, he clutched Walker's body tightly in his arms, inserted his right leg into the space between Walker's legs and pressed it against his crotch while his hand mercilessly ripped apart his undershirt and pinched the erect nipple on his chest, pressing his nail hard against it…

“Ah…” Walker gave blood-curdling shrieks while desperately struggling like a wild beast that had been pierced by an arrow but Wiltshire was enormously strong, almost beyond compare, and ruthlessly pressed him between his body and the tree. The thigh that he had wedged between Walker's legs was moving back and forth forcefully, attempting to arouse Walker's lust.

“Get lost! Get lost!” Walker's shouts came out as a hiss because his breath caught in his throat. He raised both of his hands in front of his chest, forcefully trying to push Wiltshire away but Wiltshire's hands were far more powerful than he had imagined; they gripped him as firmly as pincers made of iron would.

When he saw the frantic way Walker was struggling, a desire for conquest began to consume Wiltshire just like a wildfire consumes everything in its path, driving him to bear down upon Walker's lips forcefully --- a heady, intensely masculine flavour instantly engulfed him; like an aphrodisiac, it drove him even wilder.

Prying the moist and lush lips apart, Wiltshire's tongue quickly extended inside and set about exploring Walker's mouth riotously.

Having been tightly restrained against Wiltshire, the tremendous heat and sexual desire that Wiltshire's body exuded in great waves caused Walker to become dizzy and light-headed. Just as he was about to be submerged in a sea of lust, he managed to summon one last bit of strength and bit down hard on Wiltshire's tongue which was still probing the depths of his oral cavity.

Wiltshire's lust had been bubbling over like a pot of boiling water, but the intense pain had the effect of cooling it off significantly. With a loud scream, he let go of Walker, and clapped his hand over his mouth, which was gushing with blood from his bleeding tongue.

His wild gaze shot to Walker, who had collapsed to kneel on the ground, his legs too wobbly to support him due to the abruptness with which he had been jolted from the throes of passion. The intrinsic savagery that was part of Wiltshire's character was awakened in his chest. Almost in the very next second, he rushed over and fiercely wrestled that strong body to the ground.

Walker was startled, he had obviously not expected Wiltshire to be able to recover or to launch another attack on himself so quickly. He valiantly attempted to struggle although he had been caught unprepared, trying to engineer a second escape from the hands of the Marquess.

Having had his initial attempt thwarted, Wiltshire seemed to grow even more frenzied. With all the strength in his body, he pressed down on Walker's back and forcefully twisted his arms to his back. Even more alarmingly, he jammed his right thigh between Walker's legs; hooking them up, he wrenched them apart and placed them by his sides.

“The lords of the nobility are nothing but a pack of male dogs in heat! Male dog! Get lost! Don't touch me with your dirty hands!” Walker had been so firmly pinned down by Wiltshire that his head was the only part that he could still move freely. He cursed viciously, and spat out a mouthful of saliva that carried traces of blood onto the ground in front of him, while bucking his body back and forth in an attempt to break away from the Marquess’s death grip.

The friction created by Walker's thrashing caused Wiltshire to feel as though his burning desire had been brought to an apex. At this point, he lost any semblance of refinement. His golden hair was now wet and scattered, hanging messily on his forehead and perspiration kept dripping down. Looking at him now, people would probably not recognize him as the Marquess who was famed for his grace and languid elegance throughout the highest echelons of London society.

He had to admit that the strength in Walker’s arm was really quite remarkable, but Wiltshire himself had undergone years of training in the skill of wrestling at clubs in London, and he was confident enough that he could subdue this country bumpkin who had completely no knowledge of any technique. Freeing up a hand, he undid Walker's belt. Using the resources at hand, he improvised and used the belt to secure Walker's hands behind his back.

Although he now occupied the more advantageous position, but by time that Wiltshire managed to accomplish all of this, he was also wearing a look of fatigue --- he was panting hard, but it wasn't only because he was short of breath, it could be further attributed to the explosive desire that was consuming him, the intensity of which surprised even himself.

Walker felt Wiltshire draw even closer to himself; hot droplets of perspiration dribbled over his own neck and head, and his nose filled with the distinctive aroma of the French fragrance that always scented Wiltshire's body. Walker was extremely discomfited but still, he could not break free. He was constantly moving the hands that were tied behind his back in a bid to free them and prevent Wiltshire from getting close.

“Tsk tsk tsk, you are not wearing that beautiful kilt of yours today? This is really inconvenient!” Wiltshire's slender and beautiful hand wrapped around the bulge between Walker's legs, and began to move about with the most dubious of intentions. Having been divested of its belt, the trousers were shoved to below Walker's buttocks, exposing the male organ that was obscured by his dense pubic hair.

Their previous sexual encounter had been too rushed; there had simply not been enough time for Wiltshire to look closely at Walker's body. Therefore, when the bare body was finally exposed under the sunlight, with nothing to hinder the view, he could not help himself and extended a hand to hold that heavy flesh, narrowing his eyes as he attentively scrutinized and admired the sight. The colour of the hair on Walker's lower regions seemed to be of a darker shade than the hair on his head, it was almost on the verge of being a rich brown; in contrast, the colour of his skin there was actually significantly paler than his upper body, because it had not absorbed the rays of the sun.

“Madman! Pervert! Hurry up and get lost!” When he saw that this Marquess, who possessed such elegant facial features, was staring non-stop at his sex organ as he continued to knead it, Walker felt as though he was on the verge of throwing up. He could constantly feel Wiltshire's unremitting heat against his bare buttocks; that unspeakable sensation caused his whole body to tremble with disgust.

“Really? So you like to do things quickly! I'll grant you your wish!” A thread of callousness flashed in the depths of Wiltshire's eyes and in the next moment, he ruthlessly thrust his hard-as-iron sex organ into Walker's body. Although he had already prepared himself mentally for this, that type of sharp pain still instantly shot through Walker, paralyzing his entire central nervous system, rendering him completely incapable of movement for the next few minutes.

Dirty! Depraved! So humiliating that one feels that his body is going to break apart! Even though he was born male, he now knew from experience what women who had been forcefully violated felt --- the strong wish that one could immediately drop dead, right at the moment when one was being penetrated against their will!

As Wiltshire was thrusting mercilessly into the very deepest part of his body, in that moment, Walker actually felt a trace of gratification in his heart --- glad that the one who had to endure all of this was not that totally unworldly sister of his, glad that the one who had to endure being plundered to satisfy a cruel appetite was himself and not her.

Thrusting into the body beneath him as violently as a gale-force wind or a sudden deluge, Wiltshire had never ever felt such intense desire before; he felt as though he was about to be reduced to ashes by the heat of that scorching lust.

Only wanting to penetrate into the very depths of this body! Only wanting to pillage all that this man possessed, to make it become his own! The desire was so overpowering that he almost wanted to meld the other man's body with his own; so overpowering that everything appeared to be a blur in front of his eyes. His hand constantly tightened firmly around Walker's chest, holding him so tightly that there was not even a sliver of a gap between the two of them.

At the moment of climax, the intense rush of pleasure caught Wiltshire by surprise, like the tide coming in, wave after wave engulfed his whole body, leaving his limbs relaxed and numb. Again and again, he shot his overflowing desire into Walker's body. By the time he came back to his senses, realized that he had lost control and stiffly withdrew from Walker's body, Walker had already collapsed onto the ground at an awkward angle as if he were a lifeless doll.

Looking at the fresh blood and semen flowing continuously from the inflamed entrance which was still unable to close itself, for the first time in his life, Wiltshire began to have an inkling of what guilt felt like. Leaning over, he helped Walker to sit up and settled him in the crook of his arms before untying the belt that had chafed Walker's hands red and swollen. Wiltshire slowly caressed his body with his fingers and eyes, before finally pressing his own lips upon those luscious lips.

Having just experienced the unprecedented amount of pleasure that this body could bring to himself, how could Wiltshire be willing to let him go so easily? A brand new idea began to gradually take shape in his mind and he promptly decided that he would carry out this game that could make his blood boil with passion right to the very end.

The body under his hands gave a slight quiver; Walker was coming back to his senses after having indulged in a short bout of utter despair.

“You!” If looks could kill, Wiltshire would probably have died a thousand times by now. Walker began to struggle, thinking that he wanted to break free from this embrace. However, the agony that shot through his body from all of his joints made him unable to summon up any strength and in dejection, he again collapsed into the crook of the Marquess’s arms.

“Don’t move!” Using just the one hand, Wiltshire managed to still him. His slender finger slowly probed into that hole which had been stuffed full of his own desire just a few moments before, trying to expel the semen that still remained in Walker's body.

As fluid flowed slowly from the depths of his body, the strange sensation quickly caused Walker's face to blanch. Without conscious thought, his hand clutched at Wiltshire's arm, trying to prevent his finger from going deeper into his own body.

When he felt that the residual semen had just about been totally removed, Wiltshire withdrew his finger. Tearing a strip of fabric off of his silk shirt, he silently helped Walker to wipe away the physical traces of their encounter that were still left on his legs before he got them both dressed as neatly as possible.

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[1]: I’m not sure if this was spoken aloud or not; it is not in quotation marks, but a line further down indicates that it was.

[2]: The word used here is “汗衫 (hàn shān)” which means vest/undershirt. It probably brings to mind the tank-top style undershirts that men wear today, but this type of underwear only came into being during the 20th century. It is more likely that he was wearing what we would now call a shirt. At that time, shirts were considered underwear because it was the layer than was next to their skin, and also, it was not proper to appear in society dressed in just a shirt on the torso; they were expected to wear waistcoats and jackets as well.

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