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 Seventy-Five: Kenet
One moment, Lord Solliran had been about to consummate the deed I had fought for so long to stave off. The next moment, he was gone. I raised my head to find him sprawled in front of the large hearth, unmoving. A few wisps of smoke rose from the scorched edges of his thin shirt. I wondered for a moment why no one rushed to tend to their lord, then saw it appeared everyone in the room had been knocked from their feet.
I stood to better survey the scene, and various men also began to rise. “Stay down!” I commanded. “Don’t…”
But my voice disappeared as my eyes took in the sight of the two men just beyond Solliran. Sergetten! My long lost tutor wore nothing but a cloak over his shoulders, and under him lay an unconscious, naked man… Sergetten pulled his cock slowly free of the body at the same moment I recognized who it was, just from his shoulder and back. His hair had grown longer and hid his face but there could be no doubt in my mind who this was.
“Jorin!” It came out a whisper, though I wanted to scream it. I took two steps toward them but Sergetten held up a hand. Solliran was stirring.
The sovereign lord of Pellon sat up, shaking his head. He looked around and blinked, then looked at me.
I stood tall, my fists ready, should he come at me again.
To my surprise, he threw himself facedown at my feet. “Forgive me. Forgive me, Kenet, Prince of Maldevar. I forgot myself.”
Ah. I folded my arms. “Indeed you did.” I had no idea what exactly had happened, but apparently Solliran took it as a sign of conscience, or the power of the crown, or something. He was obviously terrified now, and I pressed my advantage. “Free my men, bind yourself and Tendrif into their chairs, and then we may discuss this incident like reasonable men. That is, after you put on some clothes.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” He scraped his forehead against the rug a few more times and then motioned to his men to do as I’d ordered.
Sergetten wasted no time in lifting the inert form of Jorin to the bed. We tucked him under the covers, though I took the top coverlet and wrapped it around my waist like a skirt. Sergetten belted his own cloak with a tie from one of the bedposts.
“My prince,” he said, with a short bow. “I see we arrived at an opportune time.”
I forced myself to tear my gaze from Jorin. “Will he be all right?”
“Yes, my prince, he just needs rest. We used a powerful spell to travel here all the way from the foothills of Maldevar.” He was the same old Sergetten, explaining everything and nothing at once.
I had just seen him pull his cock free of Jorin’s body. “Are you and he…?”
“Later, my prince. Please.” At that point Roichal and Jort joined us and Sergetten exclaimed, “General Roichal! How under the wide sky did you get here?”
“I suspect my tale is as long as yours,” he said, clasping hands with Sergetten. “I have been doing my best to keep our prince out of trouble, but as you can see, in the end, failed.”
“He has been an exemplary protector,” I said with a glare, as if daring Roichal to contradict me. “Now, everyone, Please take seats near the bed. My exertions have exhausted me and I will conduct this court from there.”
Do not ask me where the feeling that I ruled them completely came from, but I felt it surging in my veins. They did exactly as I said, while I climbed under the covers next to Jorin, who slept without stirring. I propped myself against the headboard with pillows.
Underneath the covers, where none of them could see, I put my hand onto his shoulder. Jorin, my Jorin, after all this time and how many miles, is it really you? I had to touch him to be sure.
I wanted nothing more than to bury myself under the blankets with him, breathing his scent and crying for joy. However, there were other demands on my attention. This would have to be enough. “Now, talk. Tendrif first.”
But it was Solliran who spoke first. “My lord, I do not know what came over me. I… ever since you appeared, it is as if I were under a spell.”
I shook my head. “That is why I asked Tendrif to speak first, Solliran. Speak out of turn again and I shall be very vexed. Tendrif. You said yourself the magic that entangles me tries to ensnare others. Is that right?”
The little mage nodded miserably. “Yes, that is true. What I told Roichal is true, that eventually he would have to kill to defend your virtue, as the spell intensifies in strength. Does my esteemed colleague agree?” He looked at Sergetten.
Sergetten sniffed. “A fair assessment. My prince, if I may advise you as I have advised your father, you should not be too quick to forgive these men their actions. The magic is powerful, but without the desire in their hearts, they would not have dreamed of violating you.”
I met Solliran’s eyes. “What have you to say to that?”
To my surprise he smiled. “What man could look at you and not desire you, Kenet of Maldevar? If what I hear is true, in the space of five short days you became the most sought-after mouth whore in Port Aris, and then I find you presented to me, naked, bespelled, and desperate to thwart the plans of the mage who would enslave you. Be honest. Would you resist such temptation even without a spell to urge you on?”
I did not answer his question, though I considered all he had said. “And you, Tendrif?”
He looked at the floor rather than at me as he answered. “For my part, I speak in fear. If the rumors are true, and the Night Mages of Frangit are helpless against… against your enemy, then what hope does a minor mage like me have? Thwarting your enemy and also making my own lord more powerful was a combination I could not resist, especially knowing that if you refused, and Solliran took you anyway, the bond would be inescapable. I tried to use your plight for my own protection and against that crime I have no defense. I can but apologize, having seen the error of my ways, and promise not to do so again.”
“Sergetten, what is your advice on how to proceed?”
“My prince, if you do not wish to kill them, they will be powerful allies.”
“Can I trust them?”
“I can make them trustworthy, at least in the short term, with Night Magic.”
I rubbed my chin. “I will not force them to do anything they do not consent to, as they tried to do to me. However, if they will agree to it, that would allow us all to move forward without fear or doubt. I should like to have these men as allies rather than enemies.”
“Prince Kenet,” Solliran said, “I would gladly accept whatever spell your mage chooses.”
Sergetten clucked his tongue. “Did my prince not just say he would be vexed if you spoke out of turn, Lord Solliran?” My old tutor met my gaze with a small smile hidden at the corner of his mouth. “My prince, he is still a liege lord, and it would not be seemly for me to strike him…”
“Then I shall do it myself,” I declared. “Solliran, over my lap, bare-bottomed.” The ugly black whip lay on the floor, still, but I would not have tried something so risky as using it when I knew not how. This, in any case, was more intimate, and probably more humiliating. And therefore a larger step toward clearing the air.
I spanked him the way Roichal had spanked me in recent days, with the meat of my palm, ten blows to each of his rosy cheeks, each one harder than the last. And then another ten, just when he thought I was finished, which is what made him cry out. When I was done, Solliran slid to the floor and kissed my hand, first my knuckles and then soothing my reddened palm with gentle touches. He said nothing, however. Good.
“You may return to your seat,” I said. He would feel his inflamed bottom against the hard wooden chair and perhaps that would remind him of his place, as well.
“What spell will you use, if I may ask?” Tendrif looked from me to Sergetten and back again. I nodded.
“Nothing too dire,” Sergetten said. “There is an oath of loyalty that can be sealed with just a touch of milk on the tongue. In particular, my prince, it prevents them from speaking ill of you or plotting against you.”
“But I cannot spill,” I said. “That is the problem that led me to seek Tendrif’s help in the first place.”
“Oh, not your milk, my prince. Theirs. A drop of their milk on your tongue, and then you kiss them to seal it. It is not the most savory of acts, I know…”
Roichal and I both began laughing at the same time at that. “We have much to tell you,” the general said. “Did you not hear the part about our prince being a mouth whore?”
“This is how you kept our prince ‘out of trouble?'” Sergetten demanded, voice rising.
I raised my hands. “No bickering. There are many tales to be told. Let us secure the loyalty of these two now so they may be sent on their way and then we may speak freely amongst ourselves.”
I was amazed at how they obeyed me. I had not expected Sergetten to be as compliant as the others, after all the years where he was the one giving orders to me. But he was.
Besides he had plenty of orders to give. He commanded the two Pellonese to strip, and kneel, and to stroke themselves to hardness. While they were stroking, he recited for each the words of the oath and they repeated it back, line by line, even the parts that were in the old tongue.
“My prince if you would.” He gestured toward them as if inviting me to try the wine. I climbed from the bed, leaving my coverlet skirt behind, and stood naked before the two supplicants.
Tendrif spilled first, crying out and filling his hand with hot, slick milk. I pulled his hand away before he was quite done stroking himself, and licked his palm, then bent over to thrust my tongue into his mouth. When I pulled back, he placed one chaste kiss upon my own cock, which was quivering and eager once more.
Then I stood before Solliran, who was taking a bit more work to reach his peak. I studied his face as I stood before him, watching him go through grimaces of pain and frowns of effort and rictuses of pleasure. I had never quite had such leisure to watch a man’s face that way. He finally let go, his mouth opening as if he were crying out, though no sound came forth.
I did as I had with Tendrif, pulling his hand away before he was quite satisfied, licking him, and kissing him deeply. He too finished the ritual with one brief touch of his lips to my cock, and then he sat back, spent.
“Go and fortify yourselves. Tendrif, in an hour you and Sergetten must consult and compare notes. For the next hour, you will leave me and my inner circle alone, unobserved and unheard.”
“Yes, my prince,” Solliran said, his cheeks flushing with shame at how they had spied on us before.
They withdrew and I climbed gingerly back into bed, my cock aching and the empty gnawing need inside me growing once more.
I lay back as Roichal stroked my hair. “My prince, is there nothing I can do?”
“Please,” I said. “Soothe me like you used to, if you can…?”
His hand moved under the covers, finding my cock and stroking it firmly.
And so we passed the next hour, with me, and Sergetten, and Roichal, telling each other the stories we needed to hear. Even Jort piped up from time to time. And through it all, Jorin slept.
At some point Roichal switched from stroking me to massaging my milksacks.
“What I do not understand,” he asked Sergetten, “was why Solliran was thrown from our prince’s back, when others who tried earlier were not.” He cast a glance at Jort when he said this.
Sergetten pondered a moment. “The unfinished spell has been intensifying. I can only guess that is what has awakened this power in Kenet. That or… hm.”
He broke off, but I was impatient to hear more of my fate. “Or what?”
“My prince,” he said gravely, “I do not know if it is your power or your enemy’s that protected you.”
I shook my head. “And here I was hoping it was you, arriving in the nick of time and saving me.”
“I am not sorry we are here,” he said with a nod of his head, “even if in the end we did not save you from that moment of jeopardy. Our presence here strengthens your position considerably.”
I stroked Jorin’s hair then. “And you brought him to me.”
“Yes, my prince.”
Roichal chuckled. “This is the guard you told me of? The one you gave your heart to when you were a child?”
“The very one,” I said.
“Then it is truly fate, truly magic, that you belong together,” he said. “Lord Sergetten, shall we withdraw?”
Sergetten sighed, and when he stood from his chair it took him a long moment, like an old man. “He will sleep for hours yet,” he said. “When he wakes, he will be ravenously hungry. Do not do anything foolish, my prince.”
“Like spread your legs for him the moment he wakes. I know how you are suffering. And I know how long you have waited. But he is still bound to me. I must remove the collar around his neck before he can bond with you. And he is too exhausted to withstand another spell so soon. In case the spell on you tries to compel him, I will hold his arousal in check, as well. I am sorry, my prince, but please, be patient.” He bowed deeply as he apologized, and I think he truly meant it.
They left us alone then. I snuggled close to Jorin in the luxurious bed, pulling the coverlet over our heads as I used to. I dozed, and the fire burned low, and it was dark as pitch under the cover. But I felt him stir next to me, his arm pulling me close, his breath soft against my neck, oh so like the way we always slept, skin against skin. I was aching inside for so many reasons, then, the need to come after weeks of arousal, the need to bond and to take a man’s seed inside me, and the need to hear his voice after so many months apart.
I worried when he woke he would be confused and struggle and wonder where he was. But I felt him stir, and then his lips found my ear. “Kenet,” he whispered. “Oh, sky above, it’s you.”
And so although I could satisfy neither of the two needs that wracked my body, at least my heart was eased.
* * *
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About the author: Cecilia Tan is the award-winning author of many erotic books and stories and the founder of Circlet Press.