The Prince’s Boy: Chapter 74

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-Four: Jorin

74: Jorin


I woke from a dream that Sergetten was riding me to find him balls deep in me, withdrawing slowly and then pushing back in slowly. I groaned as the arousal my body had been feeling all along suddenly caught up with my mind, and I shuddered under him.

“No spilling,” he warned.

“No, sir. I am… in no rush for this to end, sir.”

He made a grunt of satisfaction at that, pushing my knees apart a little wider and deepening his thrust.

He moved with a slow, even rhythm, so smooth that I drifted back and forth between sleep and waking a few times, enjoying the sudden realization that he was inside me each time I woke again.

“You love being fucked,” he whispered.

“Yes sir, by you especially.”

“There is a skill to fucking one’s lover while he sleeps without waking him. Even harder to do, without arousing him. Someday you may need to.”

“Why would I need to fuck him while he was asleep, without arousing him?”

“For a spell, perhaps. It is one of the mildest violations, but a violation nonetheless.”

“Are we going to perform a spell, Sergetten?”

“No, Jorin. I merely am enjoying my prerogative as your master while I can. I wanted to fuck you. I saw no reason to wake you first.”

A lustful groan escaped me as he stayed deep then, and seemed to make his cock twitch inside me.

“Think, Jorin. This will be your right when Kenet is yours. Though he be prince—or perhaps even king, the man whose word means life or death to all who obey him—whenever you desire it, you may simply take him. His cock is not his cock; it is yours. His arsehole is not his arsehole; it is yours.”

My cock twitched madly then, as Sergetten’s words suddenly pushed me to the edge of coming. He jerked free of me abruptly then, in a manner he had not used in a long time, and I gasped in indignation and surprise. “Sir!”

He swatted me on the arsecheek and wiped the grease from his cock against it. “That was all I wanted, slave of mine. To fuck you for a while. I have no interest in spilling at the moment. Perhaps later.” He yawned and rolled over, pulling a blanket with him.

I felt cold and empty and toyed with. But of course, I was meant to. I curled up against him, trying to ignore the throbbing in my milksacks, and pondered what it would be like when I was bound to Kenet. Ladra’an meant conscience? Would I punish him in our bed at night if I disapproved of how he ran the country? How was I, a dirt-eating orphan, to know what was right?

The next day Sergetten allowed me only a cloak to wear, so that whenever the mood struck him and he noticed my erection had subsided, he could reach over and tug on me until I was stiff once again. We spent much of the day in strategy, circled around a low fire, sitting on logs and our packs. I was heartened that Bear joined us, resigned at last to at least living long enough to help in the assault on the castle, whose layout and passageways he knew better than any of us.

Kan wanted to infiltrate the castle, as Derget had told us, and fight Seroi, and there was much discussion of this. Sergetten, though, insisted we search for Kenet first. I did not even have to say it, as he argued so strongly for it. His reasoning was that if we attacked Seroi too early, the snake would merely vanish into his lair, and if anything that would free him to search for the prince himself.

“You haven’t done the spell of far-seeing yet?” Kan asked, incredulous.

“No,” Sergetten said. “Since our summons to the castle we…”

“Well, do it now!” he snapped, annoyed. “This is all for naught if Kenet is languishing in the snake’s dungeon already.”

Sergetten stood. “There is no need for hysterics. If Seroi had already bonded to Kenet, none of us would be alive to debate the fact. He would have crushed us already.”

Gresh frowned, deep lines appearing in his forehead. “He’ll be that powerful?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

Gresh shook his head and said nothing more.

Kan stood, too. “Must we wait until nightfall? That is hours yet.”

Sergetten looked at the sky, as if this fact needed confirming. “Jorin is very powerful. But if Kenet is quite far…”

“But I’ll be blindfolded anyway,” I blurted, impatient, “and I won’t know whether it’s night or day.”

There were a few chuckles as some of them took this as a joke, but Sergetten looked at me curiously. “Indeed, this is true.”

I stood also, my eager cock jutting from my body so that the red head protruded from between the two halves of the cloak. “Then need we wait?” I slipped to my knees at his feet, looking up at him, trying to say all the things with my eyes that I did not know the proper words to ask for. Perhaps there were none.

I knew I had him when he slid his hand into my hair, a momentary caress, and then tightened it into a fist and pulling me against him, crushing my cheek against the steel-hard flesh in his trousers. “Are you truly ready for this?” he asked.

I nodded, which meant I rubbed against him.

“Shall we have witnesses? Are you ready to be abased in front of them?”

“Anything,” I whispered.

“Anything?” he asked, a note of skepticism telling me he was thinking, as was I, of the time I had begged him not to use Night Magic to force my release out of me. “We shall see if ‘anything’ is necessary, given your impatience for sundown.”

“Yes, sir.” My eyes were already closed and all I could hear was the beating of my own heart. What would he do this time?

He began to bark orders to the others, but I didn’t hear them. My world was focused on the warm, throbbing flesh separated from my nose only by his riding trousers. Someone tied a cloth around my eyes, and then many hands lifted me up. I heard the sound of ropes being run over branches. They settled me on my back into some kind of sling and bound my wrists and ankles to various lines. Thus suspended and splayed out, I may as well have been caught in a giant spider’s web.

Somehow, though I knew when a hand touched me on the cheek that it was Sergetten’s. “Our time grows short,” he said, and I knew he meant the time he and I had left together.

“I know, sir.”

“I have little incentive left to keep from harming you, you know…” he said, running his hand down my chest, then tracing with his fingertips down to my milksacks. He flicked one of them with his fingernail, casually cruel, and I bit down on a cry. “Indeed, you will have no real use for these. You will father no sons, Jorin Weltskin. Your cock, that you will need, but perhaps these I should keep for myself…”

I felt the tickle of a knifepoint follow the path down my stomach his fingertips had taken. Then a strange sensation… I sucked in a breath as I realized he was shaving the sparse hair from my ballocks. When he had done them both, he slapped them with the flat of the blade, and I gritted my teeth against crying out again.

But I screamed when he crushed my sacks in his grip, even though his mouth descended over the head of my cock at the same time. I barely felt that, even after he had let go, so overwhelming was the sensation.

It appeared, however, that he left them attached to my body. Else they would not hurt so much.

The threats continued. He wrote his name across my chest with the point of the knife, scratching painfully, while he contemplated aloud whether branding me with his crest would be painful enough to make me lose consciousness. “Perhaps it would depend on where the brand were put,” he said, as his fingers searched my skin for the most sensitive place.

He suckled my milksacks then, painfully, and just when the pain began to ebb from that, he bit me on the inner thigh, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. “Yes, perhaps here, so that if you spread your legs for any man or prince he will see that this…” At this point he thrust two well-greased fingers into me. “…once belonged to me.”

He did not stretch me and I did not expect him to before he settled the head of his cock against my hole. With my legs suspended as they were, he could grip me by the thighs and swing me back and forth. He pulled me onto his cock just a bit at a time, and once he was fully seated, began to smack my ballocks again.

“Are you seeing stars, Jorin?”

Indeed I was. “Ye—”

“See the stars.” he said, thrusting into me hard and smacking me again. “See yourself flying through the sky. The sky, which covers the whole of Trest. The whole of the world.”

He ceased hitting me then, striking me inside with his cock instead, as he could jerk me forward onto him with redoubled force and speed, thanks to my suspended state. It did not hurt, but it did make me see stars.

“Turn around, sura’an, and look.”

In my mind’s eye, I floated upside down over the land.

“You know him best. Where is he? Can you feel him? Does he burn bright like a star?”

My breath caught as it felt as if I went hurtling toward the earth like I had been flung from the highest tower in the castle. But his breath was in my ear, as if he rode on my back, and whispered encouragement.

We swept across a stormy sea and then abruptly up a steep mountain, and quite suddenly it seemed we burst into a bedroom of some nobleman.

“Kenet!” I do not know if I screamed it aloud or only in the spirit world. He was naked, trapped on a bed in a room of armed men.

“That is Solliran, the lord of Pellon!” Sergetten said. “And Tendrif, his court mage.”

“Kenet!” It was obvious enough what was going on here. Solliran shed his robes and greased his cock. And Kenet, my brave Kenet, I could see him tensing to fight. “Fight, Kenet, fight! Sergetten, we must fly there!”

“Even if the price is your milksacks?”

“Yes! Burn them off me with your lightning-blasted brand for all I care, just get us there!”

His voice was wry, and richly cruel. “There is no time for a brand. There is only this.” He tore my blindfold away and I blinked away the image of Kenet fighting with the man trying to rape him. Sergetten’s eyes glittered like black gems. He held up his hand and closed it slowly, as he sucked every drop of lust from my body, my sacks shriveling and my cock going limp, flopping back and forth as he thrust into me.

He had never fucked me while I was in this state and the penetration hurt, his cock feeling like a foreign object that did not belong where it was. I gritted my teeth, even as sweat broke out all over me, as I began to dread the twisting burn in my guts that would come when he forced my milk from me. “Hurry,” I rasped.

“You will come when I do, and I will not hurry,” Sergetten said. “Is this our last time, Jorin? Is it truly? How fitting that it should be like this, with your desire as cold as an abandoned hearth.”

I choked back tears. “Perhaps it is. But… I… I shall still love you, Sergetten.”

He smacked me across the cheek then, but it felt like nothing.

“It’s true,” I said, my eyes closing. “No matter how much you hurt me. No matter how much you resent me. No matter how much you fear me. I love you, Sergetten.”

He bellowed then, as he emptied into me, and I felt my orgasm torn loose from inside me, as if my heart were being torn from my chest.

* * *

Impatient to find out the fate of Kenet and Jorin? Book one (chapters 1-56) is now on sale for only 99 cents in ebook from all your favorite retailers or direct from Circlet Press!

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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