Welcome to The Prince’s Boy by Cecilia Tan, a tale of a prince and his whipping boy ensnared in a plot of dark erotic magic. Warning: explores themes of dubious consent and situations of sexual jeopardy. NSFW.
A new chapter appears every Wednesday. This week is Chapter Eight-Seven: Kenet
Bear came with me, and six of the Night Riders, and four of Marksin’s best men. My breath caught as we cleared the trees for the first time and I caught sight of the castle up the mountainside. Maldevar is the name of the castle, and the mountain, and the village which houses those who do not live inside the castle walls. Inside the walls, though, the castle was like a city unto itself, not so large as Port Aris, but quite sizable.
Looking up at the towers and the dark bulk of the buildings molded into the mountainside, I considered it a miracle that I had ever escaped from there.
We took the trader’s route to the village, and from there went on foot as quickly as we could, up the same road toward the kitchens that I had once taken away from here, stowed in the back of a wagon like a cask of wine.
The selfsame entrance to the kitchens out of which I had flown was within sight when we met with our first resistance. On either side of the road stood two guards I recognized, but whose names I did not recall. We studied them from the cover of the thick brush alongside the way, getting scratched by thorns, but I hardly cared about that.
“Do they have a way of raising the alarm?” I asked. “If they see you, Bear, they will know we are not the mage’s friends come to call.”
The big Night Rider next to me—Gresh was his name—frowned. “And it is very hard to kill two at once.”
“We will kill neither of them. I am certain they are compelled to obey the mage somehow but that given any choice, they would be our allies,” I said.
“Apologies, my prince,” said Gresh. “I did not mean it literally. We can use the tinglebush extract on them, but it’s still a trick to hit them both at once, so that one does not raise the alarm while the other falls.”
Bear spoke. “They likely know nothing of the mage’s plans. If you were to appear before them, my prince, you might startle them enough to give us the element of surprise.”
“Give me two of the tips.” I held my hand out toward Derget, the man carrying the poisons. He handed me a pair of steel teeth, sharp enough to break the skin, but not so large as to allow a man to bleed to death while lying unconscious. There was always the chance I would hit a vital vein, but I had to hope luck would be on my side, and theirs.
I crept as close to them as I could, which was slow going while trying not to make a sound, then stumbled out onto the surface of the road.
One of them recognized me immediately. “My prince?” he gasped, astonished.
At that point I fell to my knees as if swooning and about to collapse entirely. They rushed toward me, as I had hoped they would, to help me up. They had been castle guards for too long to have any other reaction but to hurry to my aid.
I let them lift me, one arm over each of their shoulders. “Thank you for your help,” I said as I pushed the hidden teeth, one in each hand, into each man’s neck. They slumped down with such speed that I was only able to keep one of them from hitting his head on the dirt.
“Quickly,” Bear urged, as the others dragged the guards into the underbrush. Bear had told us there would only be a few minutes at most before they would have been due to give an all-clear signal to a sentry above. That is, if they were keeping to the protocols that Bear knew. Derget and one of Marksin’s men who had served under Jaiks for a time before going into the cavalry changed into the men’s uniforms and took their place on the road while the rest of us hurried into the castle’s passageways.
We made for the passages closest to the Rose Gate. The others would be there very soon and it was best to be in place. But as we neared the winding turnoff in the tunnels that would lead toward Seroi’s tower, I wondered. If he had no intention of handing over Sergetten and my father, where would he be keeping them?
As we made our silent way along, however, the question of where to find my father was answered. I heard his voice, a frustrated roar I knew all too well. The passageways were curved and the echoes were tricky to follow, but I knew well enough how to do so. I bade the others stand back in the passage while I slipped into the narrow space that led to a single spyhole high above a large reception room.
A circle of light in the dark passage showed where the spyhole was. I pressed my eye against it.
There, seated at the large table, was my father, with Seroi standing to one side. “My king, if there were any choice about this, you know I would present it to you.”
My father did not have the look of a prisoner, though his face was haggard. He was dressed in his best robes and the remnants of a large meal were scattered over the table.
“The entire purpose of retaining you as head advisor is that I need never sully my body with these demands,” my father said, churlishly.
“My king, you know I would go to any lengths, including great self-sacrifice, to accomplish your goals,” Seroi said. “But the fact remains that only those of royal lineage can open the passageways… and those recently impregnated… er, well, perhaps that is not the right word to use with the members of your guard, but the fact remains…”
“That you want me to fuck my guards.” My father got to his feet, staggering slightly, as if he’d had too much wine. His robes hung loosely on his frame. He pointed an accusing hand at Seroi. “I thought you said there was a potion that would do the same thing?”
Seroi bowed low. “My king, I apologize. There is a potion, but it takes weeks to prepare. I am anticipating an attack on your life this very day!”
“Fine. Bring me Jaiks. He’s the best fighter of the lot and the most loyal.” My father slumped back into his chair and stared into space.
Seroi left the chamber, and I moved along the wall to overhear him tell the guard in the antechamber to summon Captain Jaiks.
I tiptoed back to the men, who had seen and heard nothing of this, and I whispered directly into Bear’s ear. “The mage and my father will be in the room below for a while yet. Move the men into position by the Rose Gate.”
“Your father?” Bear asked back.
“He seems well,” is all I answered. He was not being maimed, at any rate, though whether Seroi’s manipulation of him could be deemed torture or not could have kept the sages at debate all night. “Send the others ahead. You stay with me.”
Bear stayed at the mouth of the passageway but it was too narrow for his broad shoulders to allow him to slip beside me. I moved back to the spyhole over the antechamber in time to see the captain of the guard come through the door. “You sent for me, my lord?”
“Indeed,” Seroi said, brushing at the long sleeves of his robe as if they had gotten ash upon them. “Your king has a task for you.”
“What sort of task, my lord?”
“As you know, his requests grow increasingly bizarre. But we must do our best to accommodate him, at least until the prince can be returned safely to us.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“After all, he is still king.” Seroi hesitated there, as if considering something. Then he went on. “I expect you shall do your best for him always, but if you should hesitate, Jaiks, you would do well to remember I have your boy.”
Jaiks impassive face betrayed not a flicker of emotion, though the skin was red around the pale shape of the scar on his face. “I have not forgotten, my lord.”
Seroi clucked his tongue and moved closer. “And yet I can almost hear the rebellion simmering in your veins. You are a tough man, Captain Jaiks, and I appreciate that. Do well for me and you will be rewarded once my power is complete.”
“As you say, my lord.”
Seroi sighed. “Your lack of enthusiasm is disturbing. Perhaps you need further motivation?”
“I will do my b—!” Jaiks broke off suddenly as Seroi grabbed him from behind, one hand around his throat, the other at his crotch.
“Do not struggle and this will be painless. I will restore what is yours when you have proven yourself to me,” Seroi hissed.
I knew not what I was seeing. Jaiks remained stoic while Seroi held him still for a long few moments more, whispering the words to some spell. Then Seroi let him go and he stumbled.
Seroi bowed mockingly and then led the way back into the main chamber. I hurried to the other spyhole.
My father stood as the door opened. “Captain, thank you for your service. I shall require you to remove your trousers and brace yourself against the table.” He looked at the table then, as if realizing for the first time that there were dishes and crockery upon it. He let out a breath like an impatient stallion, then swept one end of the table clear, sending everything in arm’s reach crashing to the floor.
Jaiks did not even flinch at the sound of glass and plate smashing, though I surely did.
“Face down, please,” my father said, gesturing to the now clear wood of the sturdy table as if inviting a noble to dine.
Jaiks stepped to the edge of the table, then unfastened his trousers. I gasped when he let them drop and I saw he looked like Roichal! With just a smooth front where his cock and balls should have been. Seroi had just taken them from him moments before while I had watched!
My father could see none of that. Jaiks bent stiffly at the waist, putting his palms tentatively onto the table.
My father shrugged out of his robe and my breath caught at how gaunt he had become. His cock, however, did not appear to have lost any girth. Not that I had seen it before, you understand, but I have become something of an expert on sizes and shapes in my travels. He tugged at his own flesh with vicious jerks of his hand.
“Tell him why this is necessary,” my father growled to his advisor.
“Captain, my apologies for the nature of this duty, but you are aware, are you not, of the passages that only our king and his progeny may pass through?”
“Yes,” Jaiks said, through gritted teeth. Then he flinched, the first sign of emotion I had seen from him, as my father pulled his cheeks apart and wrinkled his nose in distaste.
“You, too, will be able to open those doors and navigate those passageways, at least for a time, once the royal seed is planted in you.”
Jaiks jerked involuntarily again, though whether the reaction was caused by the words, or by the touch of my father’s cock to his hole, I could not discern.
My father held him steady with a hand on his tailbone, taking aim with his cock. I could not help but flinch in sympathy, my insides twisting.
“My king,” Jaiks gasped. “Are such things… not usually done with a bit of… of grease…?”
He received a sharp slap on the buttock for that. “Only sluts and whores who crave to be fucked need such things,” my father said. “You disappoint me gravely, Jaiks, if you count yourself among them.”
“No, my king! I merely… understood it to be difficult for the… man on top as well.”
“It is a pain I shall gladly bear for the sake of duty,” my father said.
Jaiks’ voice shook as he answered. “A-as will I, my king.”
“Good.” With that, my father thrust forcefully into him, and the captain responded with a strangled sound that had to be him trying not to scream.
I had to put my own hands over my mouth to ensure my own silence, but I could not look away.
My father tore into him, the dishes that remained on the table rattling with each powerful thrust. I could not help but remember what Jorin had said while Roichal and Marksin had “interrogated” him for my benefit, that he and Sergetten had come to the castle, and that my father had “taken liberties” with Jorin’s body.
As merciless with his cock as he was with the whip was how Jorin had described him. I now saw the evidence of that with my own eyes.
Jaiks, stoic and strong though he was, could not remain silent for long, and I was even more startled to realize that tears were wetting his face.
It went on for a long time, and Seroi, that snake, stood behind my father where he thought no one could see, and rubbed the monstrosity of his cock through his robes with the flat of his hand. He tipped his head back and breathed deeply, as if he could scent the pain and agony on the air.
My father slowed, leaning against the table and panting with fatigue.
“You must spill inside him,” Seroi warned, “Else, my king, this was for naught.”
My father growled in frustration and tugged at Jaiks’s hips, causing another cry of pain to escape from the captain. Then his hand came down sharply on Jaiks’s bare buttock once again. “Tighter! Grip me tighter, you milksucking whoreson!” And he began to strike him with one hand while tugging him back sharply at the same time, again and again. After a while he switched hands. I wanted to cover my ears against the sharp echo of each slap, but did not dare move.
Then at last my father bellowed, emptying himself into the body of the beaten and humiliated man below him. He jerked his cock free and I saw a few meager final spurts go to waste upon the stone floor.
“Well done, my king,” Seroi said. “And now surely you must rest after your exertions.”
“Yes. Send a maid to wash the slime from me as well.”
“As you wish, my king.” Seroi bowed as my father staggered from the room. After the door closed behind him, he turned to Jaiks, who was very stiffly pulling up his trousers. “Prepare your men. I expect an attack at midday.”
Jaiks’s head snapped up at that. “Excuse me, my lord?”
“The rebels who have captured Prince Kenet will be attacking us today.”
“And just how do you know this, my lord? Magic?”
“If the traitor Jorin is among them, you must not kill him, but bring him to me,” Seroi went on, ignoring Jaiks’s question. “I care not if he is maimed along the way, but I need him alive. Do you understand me, Jaiks?”
“Yes, my lord. And the prince is not to be harmed should we encounter him?”
Seroi swept from the room then, and I watched just a few more moments, as Jaiks moved jerkily to the table and shook the cloth from around a loaf of bread. He dipped it into the pitcher of water and washed the tears from his face, drawing deep, ragged breaths as he did so. Then he paused, as if considering, dipped the cloth once more, and then undid his trousers to wipe between his buttocks. He threw the towel into the pile of things my father had swept from the table.
I thought that then he would leave, but to my surprise he then drew a short knife from his boot and savagely stabbed it over and over into the stuffed back of the chair in which my father had been sitting. Twenty or thirty times, each strike harder than the last.
Then he took a deep breath, and sheathed the knife, and marched from the room.
* * *
About the author: Cecilia Tan is the award-winning author of many erotic books and stories and the founder of Circlet Press.