SWINGING CLOCK
The clocksmith stood in the alley shadows, pocket watch swinging slow from his thick fingers. Golden light hit his bare chest, oil already gleaming on those carved abs like he’d been born slick. The young prince watched from the castle gate, cock stirring in his silk robes before he even spoke.
“You got time for me, stranger?” the prince whispered, voice cracking.
The clocksmith’s eyes locked on. “Time bends for those who beg.” His voice was deep, jarring, like metal scraping bone. He stepped close, watch swinging between them, tick… tick… tick… each swing dragging the prince deeper. “Open the gate. Let me in.”
The prince did. Hands shaking.
Inside the royal bedchamber, candles flickered red. The clocksmith stripped slow, vest falling, black pants sliding down massive thighs shiny with oil. He pushed the prince onto the velvet bed, watch still swinging above those hungry eyes.
“Watch it spin, boy. Feel it pull your mind apart.” The prince’s breath hitched, pupils huge. The clocksmith poured warm oil over both their bodies, slick hands sliding over the prince’s chest, down his trembling abs, wrapping around his leaking cock. “You’re mine now. Every prince I fuck becomes mine across time.”
He shoved the prince’s legs wide, oiled fingers pushing deep, stretching him open while the watch kept swinging. The prince moaned loud, lost, hips bucking like a whore. Then the thick, veiny cock slid in—raw, oily, stretching him until he screamed. Every thrust made the bed slam, oil squelching loud between their slapping bodies. The clocksmith growled low, “Feel me rewrite you… feel every second of your soul getting fucked into my pocket.”
The prince came untouched, eyes rolling back, body convulsing as the clocksmith filled him deep, hot cum flooding his guts.
Then the watch spun faster.
The clocksmith pulled out, still hard, cum dripping down his oiled thighs. He grinned, teeth flashing. “Next prince. Next castle. Next hole.” He vanished in a golden flash.
Far away in another century, another royal bed, another prince woke to the same swinging watch, same oily chest, same jarring voice whispering, “Let me in…”
Every prince across time opened his legs. Every one became another dripping, moaning lover in the clocksmith’s endless collection. The watch never stopped swinging.
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