Since the OP's link points to the wrong post, and my original post lost some punctuation in the forumswitch, here it is again:
"Yes, my dearest," he whispered. "Your lips are so-" He shuddered with pleasure, the lamb haunch in his meaty palm dripping grease onto his lover's hair. "Soft," he finished, gently brushing the leg-of lamb with his own plump lips. His other hand massaged the young man's thick dark hair, paunchy armflesh wobbling.
"Slower, boy." The dark-haired youth at his legs paused and looked up briefly.
"Yes, my lord." He returned to his work. His voice, quiet, silk-smooth, every touch of breath further excitement for chadz. A most excellent mouth overall, he decided.
Eager. Eager was the right word. An eager mouth. He smiled, lounging back further into his mound of pillows, massive body sighing with bliss.
Oh, how they worship me, he mused. I gave them a new life, and they gave me mine. As he approached his crescendo, chadz bit off a mouthful of roast and reached for the wine goblet. Taking a swig around the food, he savoured the meal as he savoured his peak.
Opening his eyes a few moments later, he watched as the young man finished up. Such a loyal servant. chadz drank deeply from his chalice, his entire rotund figure afire with pleasure.
The last drops trickled down his throat. chadz grinned, imagining the boy experiencing the same sensation moments before.
His large form content beneath the yellow satin robes, chadz raised the goblet and shook it slightly.
“Bring me a cup from the finest cask.”
The boy wiped his mouth, nodded. Gently, he took the chalice and hurried away. Glancing at the lamb in his other hand, chadz shrugged. There was always more. He tossed the leg into the fire, watched it roar briefly, hissing and snapping. The scent of roast engulfed the room.
chadz nodded off into a nap, alone in his pleasure room. The supple pillows spread across the floor of the sunken room kept his immense weight off his muscles. Two stone steps lined the walls. One wall held the dying fire. One held the stone door to the rest of his castle. One was blank. And one was bare but for the elegantly-embroidered tapestry, displaying a noble, powerful-looking equus africanus asinus. It pleased him to see it, for some reason.
He awoke as the boy entered the room, heavy door grinding along the warm stone floor.
“What took so long, boy?”
The boy bowed, goblet clasped between his smooth hands. “I was tracking down the correct vintage, my lord.”
“Fine. Bring it here, boy. I want to see if this was worth the wait.” The boy handed chadz the wine and retreated a respectful step, his back to the dim hearth.
Before he raised it to his lips, chadz held the goblet to the dying flames. It glinted, a vast golden cup carved exquisitely. Four peasants, their arms thrust forwards above their heads, supported a vast hemisphere of the world, hollowed out and full of blood-red wine. Upon each face was a unique expression of anguish and sorrow. Their feet rested on a rough platform resembling a farmer's field, forming the base of the magnificent grail.
chadz frowned. The peasants here were supporting his world, but he knew it was the opposite. He gave them life. Slightly upset, chadz decided to have the cup destroyed. It was not befitting of his status to be seen drinking from the hands of commoners.
Yet, why waste a taste of wine, he mused.
He raised it to his lips slowly.
His servant shifted slightly, a small twitch in his neck, out of the corner of chadz' eye. Foolish boy. Too young to partake in wine, yet soon too old to partake in chadz. A lowborn son of some insignificant scum who thought he was important because he owned a few farms, had a few serfs to order around. Lucky for him, the boy was handsome, even beautiful. An heir, had the child been noble.
The goblet edged closer and closer.
Heir, he scoffed to himself. Now that was foolish. To give a mere pleasure-pet his fortunes and fiefs, his power and people.
Still, though, the boy was involved in almost everything chadz did. Come to think of it, the young, beautiful man before him could probably keep things running himself. But the boy has no ambition, chadz reflected. He gives his master a rise, but does not seek to raise himself, at least above waist-level.
The warm gold touched his lower lip.
To the side, the boy watched. A glint in his eye. What is that, chadz wondered. Pleasure? No, the boy had not partaken in this fine drink yet. He would not know the feast of flavours contained in the cup. Hunger? The boy never eats. But no, not that kind of hunger.
His lips parted. The wine poured in, a trickle at first.
Desire, that was it. A shadow's shadow of a smile upon those soft lips. But why? What did the boy desire?
Me, chadz thought slyly.
Tastes danced upon his tongue, tints of texture from every land.
Me, but not me, he suddenly realized. This child - no, man, nearly - was equipped to run the realm. He was firm but not harsh, quiet but cunning, soft but also tough. A leader, chadz thought. But what to lead?
As the last of the wine left the goblet, it dawned on him. No submissive boy, but a subtle man.
No harmless toy, but a dangerous weapon.
He dropped the goblet as the muscles in his flabby arms seized up. It rolled down a pillow and struck the stone steps in the sunken harem room. The half-globe cracked. Upon their faces, the carved peasants now seemed to wear smiles.
“I want everything,” the boy said quietly. “Your world is mine now.” chadz' legs and neck were locked still by the poison. He shuddered as his lungs froze.
--
The palace guards found the purple-faced corpse splayed out across the floor of his pleasure room. The young man, chadz' pet, was standing in front of the fire, now burned to coals. As the chain-clad men started down the steps, the boy turned to face them and spoke:
“He is gone. His dying words were to leave everything to me. If you and your men follow me, I will give you all you desire.” He held aloft one of the golden peasants, arms raised to the sky, now free of supporting the heavy world.
The guards did not hesitate. Everything appeared to have gone as planned, just as the boy had told them hours before.
“Yes, my lord.”
The young man, the one named “cmp,” smiled. chadz was dead. A new leader had arisen. A new dawn had broken.
A new life had begun.
