Author's Note - Okay, this isn't quite dark but very dark. It is rated M for a reason. I've never really written anything this graphic before so constructive critism is welcome. This is a taster; call it a prologue sort of thing, and if I get enough interest I'll continue. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it, well, enjoy isn't exactly the right word but and review!

Merlin was on his knees – again. He could feel the hard wood through the material of his trousers, rough and unyielding. He wouldn't be surprised if he found splinters in his legs later. His slim arms fell down by his sides and his hands were balled into two tight fists – that was his way of controlling his emotions. Otherwise he didn't think he would be able to do this, he would have been broken (not that he wasn't already, no self respecting man would do this willingly). This had been going on for a long time though and he'd grown used to it, almost immune. It was pretty much a daily occurrence – part of his job.

Breathing heavily through his nose, the young servant boy tried to ignore the object in his mouth. The huge, hot, wet object that thrust continually in and out of his throat, making him gag and want to be sick. He had to suck though, if he didn't he would be punished. A fierce hand gripped the hair on the back of his head, practically tearing it from his scalp, but he even if he whimpered it would not be heard through the thick member in his mouth.

Above him, his eyes closed and his lips slightly open with euphoria, the King of Camelot pumped his hard, erect penis further than seemed physically possible into Merlin's mouth. This was his escape, his way of releasing pent up emotions, by spilling his semen onto a serving boy's tongue. Whenever he was stressed and needed an outlet then he would summon Merlin – his relief.

The boy was sickened by his job; it was disgusting and wrong but what could he say against the King? If the King told you to do something you did it without a question. The first time it had happened, Merlin had been reluctant to say the least, but Uther had forced him. There wasn't a choice.

Uther's breath was coming in quick, fast gasps which meant he had almost reached his climax. He opened his eyes just enough to glimpse the raven head of the boy between his legs and then he toppled over the edge into ecstasy.

With a quiet pop, Merlin released the spent member in his mouth and wiped his wet lips on his sleeve. He could still taste the older man's essence on his tongue and it revolted him. When he had time he would swill water round his mouth over and over and over and over again. That was the only way he could hope to begin getting rid of the flavour.

"You have done well, boy," Uther murmured, contented, "You may leave now. Come tomorrow at the same time."

"Yes, your highness," the servant boy whispered and left the Royal Bedroom as quickly as possible, his legs feeling weak and wobbly – as they always did – beneath him.

As he made his way down the corridor to the Court Physician's chambers, he kept his eyes glued to the floor and therefore did not notice the person step out in front of him until it was too late. With a painful thud he collided with the obstacle.

"Merlin, you idiot! Are you blind as well as stupid?" Arthur's tone was teasing and friendly but his manservant was really not in the mood for jokes. He felt dirty and violated; he just wanted to be alone. The boy remained silent, still unconsciously attempting to pass his master. "Merlin?" The Prince's voice was softer now, concerned at his friend's lack of response. He reached out and touched Merlin gently on the shoulder and was shocked when the younger man lurched back from his touch, his entire frame quivering like a coiled spring.

"Just, please, my lord, I need some time….alone. I will do whatever you want but just give me ten minutes," Merlin pleaded quietly. His pastel-blue eyes were hazy with tears and he really didn't want the Prince to witness him crying. Therefore, without even waiting for an answer he pushed by the stunned Arthur and hurried off to his chamber. The Prince of Camelot stared after him confused and more than a little worried. He wanted to find out whatever had affected his friend in such a way.

Merlin scrubbed roughly at his mouth, not caring how much skin he took of in the process, anything to make him clean again. The coarse scouring pad in his hand was the perfect washing equipment for after each session with the King. It had served him well many times. Once the skin around his lips was pink and raw looking, the young man stopped and assessed his reflection in the mirror. What he saw gazing back at him wasn't who he wanted to be but there seemed nothing he could do to change that. With a sigh, Merlin put down the pad and went in search of Arthur. He had promised to be back at work in ten minutes after all.