The Prince’s Boy: Chapter 12

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 Twelve: Kenet

12: Kenet


I saw Seroi almost every day, except a few times when he merely sent me to the archives to read certain ancestral accounts. Each time I saw him, he milked some seed from me before I left. It took less and less time for him to bring me to the point of spilling, and it seemed to me his touch grew lighter and lighter each time as well, as if he moved from pulling the seed out of me to coaxing my cock to give it to him like an obedient animal.

This impression was never higher than the day he began, rather than ended, our lesson with the milking. I climbed to his tower as always, the incense making me dizzy but my head clearing once I reached his side. He looked up from the ledger he was writing in and a smile broke slowly across his smooth cheeks. “Kenet,” he said, as affectionately as one might to a pet dog that has just fetched your shoes.

“Seroi,” I answered, one eyebrow raised.

“I’m pleased to say we can move to the next stage of your training,” he continued, still beaming at me. “Strip out of your clothes and kneel in the center of the markings there.” He gestured to the space on the floor that was ringed with symbols.

This was not unusual and I began to remove my clothing immediately, balking only when I saw that he was beginning to do the same.

I had never seen Seroi’s bare legs before. I had seen a sliver of his torso through his robes from time to time, depending on what he was wearing, but I found myself openly staring as he folded his outer robe over the back of the chair he had been sitting in, then the under robe, and so on, my breath catching as he revealed his legs.

And his cock. It was at that point I looked away and remembered I was supposed to be kneeling where he told me. Most of him looked the way I expected from his face. Smooth and hairless and far too young for his actual age. He looked like he might be about the same age or younger than my father, with gently curving muscle and a flat belly, yet I knew he had been Lord High Mage even in my grandfather’s day.

But his cock was long and thick and so heavily veined it reminded me of an old tree. The head was blunt like a branch stump as well, looking just as gnarled. It hung between his legs, longer than mine as well as with greater girth, and this was him flaccid.

I jumped when he touched me, for I had closed my eyes, as if examining the image of that cock behind my eyelids in secret. He knelt in place behind me, reaching around my chest with one arm, grasping my cock with the other hand, and stroking me quickly to hardness with just a ring made of his thumb and forefinger. I looked down to watch it, wondering at how it could respond like that when in my gut I was feeling repulsed.

Repulsed, but also aroused, I realized, by the sight of that massive, grotesque prick. I told myself the only reason I felt aroused while seeing it was that I knew my own release was coming soon.

With the hand that was not stroking me, he pinched my nipples and I jerked indignantly in his embrace. “That hurts!”

“Yes, but you must bear it,” he said, no apology in his voice at all. “Even if you do not enjoy it. This is not about your enjoyment, my prince, but about ensuring the magical changes necessary for you to carry on your royal duty.”

“I know,” I said, jerking again as he pinched the other.

“Take hold of your own cock for a moment,” he said, in his tutoring voice. I did as he asked. Then he pinched me again, hard. “What did you feel?”

I could not lie, for surely that is what he had felt himself. “My blood… surges. When you pinch.”

“That is correct.” He took hold of me again, his mouth close to my ear when he held me that way. “Pain and pleasure are two sides of the same coin.”

“Does that mean I like pain? Or… or is it necessary for breaking through the spell you put on me?”

“Oh, very good, my prince,” he purred. “You begin to understand. Yes, the pain is quite necessary to free you from the chains we had put on you. But, in fact, you should experience it as pain. Your cock’s response is perhaps related to the surge in desire you experience as the spell is gradually lifted. Now, on all fours.”

He pushed me forward and placed a goblet under me, just tall enough that the rim touched the head of my cock. Now he stroked me with just two fingers, his thumb down the underside and his index finger on the opposite. Not even ringing the shaft. He guided the loose skin up and down, up and down. I began to tremble and shake from the teasing.

“Kenet,” he said, lying down beside me, and resting his chin in his other hand while he continued the torturously light pressure.


“Spill for me now,” he whispered, his voice no less a command than ever, even in a whisper.

I cried out as I spilled, as my cock began to burn with each spurt, my body surging through release but with only a hollow feeling of nausea sweeping through me rather than pleasure. I retched once, but then his hand made a circle on my back and the feeling instantly eased. Then he was gone, putting away the goblet, and he returned with another container.

“During the next step you must be protected from the effects of certain humours that will try to invade your body,” he said, as he began to spread something cool across my back. “I will cover every inch of you with this. Even your eyelids, and anoint your head.” He encouraged me to lie on my back while he worked it through my scalp, my face and lips, then massaged it into my chest. My nipples were still sore from the pinching and stood up hard and defiant under his palms. He worked down my arms, then down my legs, doing my cock and balls last. They were sore to the touch and I hissed as he made quite thorough work of coating them, including holding the head in one hand and daubing into the slit with his smallest finger. Then he moved me back to all fours and worked down my back and over my arsecheeks.

I sucked in a breath as his moist fingers brushed over my arsehole. “Every inch,” he said, as if reminding me. “Anything that might be exposed, and that includes here.” I could not help it, though. The touch in such a private place made me clench tightly. Not even Jorin had ever touched me on that side.

“Kenet,” he said, voice soft with warning. “Rest your head on the floor, and reach back with your hands to spread yourself for me.”

I hesitated only a moment, then did as he asked, spreading the cheeks wide.

“Very good,” he said, his finger slathering the unguent up and down over the puckered hole, and then just the tip of his finger pressed into me.

I squeaked like a mouse. Not only because of the cold, slick intrusion, but because my cock sprang to life as he did it.

He chuckled. “Very good,” he said again. “My apologies if the previous paroxysm was not pleasurable for you, my prince. It is important that you realize that this is not love-making you are experiencing now, of course. But I assure you it is not my intent to make every moment unpleasant. You are allowed to experience some pleasure. Would you like a more pleasurable release before you leave here, today?”

“Yes,” I said, through gritted teeth. My cock was throbbing then as if I hadn’t just spilled at all, but had been teased mercilessly all along.

“Will you do everything I say?”

I hesitated. “Don’t I already do everything you say?”

“Kenet. There are protocols to be followed in ritual magic.” He moved his finger in a circle then, making nerves spark all around my hole and all through my body. “Will you do everything I say?” he repeated. “If you do, I will reward you with a pleasurable release.”

“Yes,” I said, still holding myself wide for him. “Yes, I will.”

“Very good,” he said again, and I began to realize that those words were ritualized, too. “I will not lie to you, my prince,” he said. “Freeing you of the necessary spells is not without some risks. The oil I’ve coated you in is necessary because what I do must crack your armor, your psychic armor, some of which is your own natural protection, but some of which is what we are working to have you shed. This…” And here he twirled that finger again, “Is one of the chinks in your armor.” He withdrew the finger then, and I clenched my hole tight once more.

He pulled me upright against him then, and I could feel that club of a cock against my tailbone. He was hard and it felt like I could feel his heartbeat through his turgid flesh. “Do you know what magehands are?”


“It is a power some of us develop that allows us to essentially have one or more spirit hands at our disposal. Look down, my prince.”

I looked down my torso to see his two hands cupping my chest, his thumbs coming to rest against my nipples, his forefingers tweaking them, rolling them gently without pinching. Then I gasped as I saw the head of my cock disappear into the loose skin around it, as if a hand were stroking up from the base. “Invisible hand…” I whispered in awe.

“Yes, my prince.” Now instead of pinching, he continued to tease at my nipples, and to stroke with his spirit hand, which was an even lighter touch than the teasing contact he’d used earlier.

“There is one way for me to ensure that you are truly ready for release,” he purred into my ear. “To ensure that this time will not be painful, as the last one was.”

“Wh-what is that?” I gasped, feeling the need to come but not yet ready to.

“You will beg when you are truly ready,” he whispered. “When you cannot stand it for another moment. When you beg, I shall give you the release you crave, and not a moment sooner.”

Seroi was a man of his word.

* * *

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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.


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