The Prince’s Boy: Chapter 77

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-Seven: Kenet

77: Kenet


Holding Jorin’s hand, I followed Sergetten down the hallway to another room, then out onto what I thought was a balcony. I soon realized it was more of a terrace built into the side of the hill, looking down over all of Port Aris. The sun was setting behind us and I realized with a start that we must have slept the day away.

Dug out of the hill was an oval pool, large enough for several men to stand in, and water flowed from somewhere above, down a tiled channel, and then flowed out of it to another pool below, and on down. I was surprised to find the water quite hot as I dipped my foot into it.

“It bubbles up hot from deep underground,” Sergetten said, “further up the hill where it is too steep and rocky to build. Lord Solliran has the hottest pool, and the cleanest of course, while the other nobles whose terraces are arranged below his get progressively cooler.”

“It’s nearly too hot,” I said, but shed my clothes quickly and I slipped in to find it about the depth of my ribs.

Jorin came in after me and sank down to his neck immediately, getting the strip of leather he wore wet.

Sergetten merely doffed his boots and rolled up the loose cuffs of the Pellonese style pants he wore and sat upon the edge, soaking his feet. After a moment he tossed me a cloth and a small pot of soap. “Go on, my prince, give him a good scrubbing. He has several days’ worth of travel grime on him, not to mention less savory things.”

But Jorin caught my hands. “You must let me wash you, too.”

I looked up in surprise. “You are not my servant, Jorin.”

“Nor are you my servant,” he said gently, with a smile, “though most assuredly you are mine.”

I felt a thrill to hear him say it. After all the time apart it was almost hard to believe he was here with me! I cared not that Sergetten was watching. “You first, then,” I said, rubbing the cloth in the jar to make suds.

I scrubbed his back, then his arms and under them, then between his legs and arsecheeks. He sat up on the edge for me to work from his toes up to his groin, doing his cock and balls last. He came alive at my touch, lengthening and thickening, and I found my mouth watering.

My hunger must have shown on my face, for he clucked his tongue. “Not yet, not yet. Let me wash you first.” He came back into the water, and instead of going around behind me to scrub my back, merely pulled me against him, holding me close and running the cloth up and down, taking special care when he reached between my cheeks, dragging the rough cloth over my rose teasingly. I moaned and pressed my damp forehead against the top of his shoulder.

Sergetten chuckled. “You are making him suffer,” he pointed out.

“Deliciously,” Jorin answered. “You have taught me no less, Sergetten.”

“Tcha. I never made such a wanton slut of you.”

“No indeed. You were much harsher in your methods.”

I clung to Jorin then, but my ears were quite sharp on their words, and I heard a little tension in Jorin’s voice.

Sergetten was silent a moment. Then he said, “Would you like to know the truth, Jorin Weltskin?”

“Always, master,” Jorin answered, dropping the cloth and holding me close.

“I did not always treat you as well as I should have, especially at the beginning. But I justified it to myself by thinking ‘if ever he holds the fate of the prince in his hands, he will never treat him this way.’ Because you would remember what it was like to be under the heel of a cruel, loveless tyrant, to be at the whim of a man who respected you not.”

“Sergetten,” he said, and I heard his voice catch.

“Remember, that is the fate you save him from when you keep him from his enemy’s clutches, too. If ever you question if you are being too hard on him, too cruel, too demanding… remember how it would have been for him.”

“I will.” Jorin tipped my chin up then with his fingers, and looked into my eyes. “Would you like your breakfast, then, my prince? Or is it dinner?”

“It will be a feast no matter what,” I said, licking my lips eagerly.

Jorin lifted himself up on the lip of the pool again, and I swam between his knees to suckle gently on his milksacks. I had learned every way to milk a man with my mouth since our arrival in Port Aris—no, since my flight from the castle. The last time I had tasted Jorin’s milk had been a fumbling attempt in the dark of night, when he had worried that it was too unclean for the likes of me to swallow.

How far we had come. I swept my tongue up the length of him, cupping his sacks gently to maintain the tension. I used the tip of my tongue to pluck the water droplets from all around the crown and he groaned needily.

There were many more things I could have done to tease, but I was hungry, and with any luck I would breakfast this way every morning for the rest of my life. I took the entirety of the spongy head into my mouth then, swirling my tongue around it and then sucking it bit by bit deeper in.

He kept his hands at his sides, letting me set the pace and depth. I worked him deeper and deeper, until the head was going into my throat, my tongue continuing to move against the shaft.

I heard a groan and a voice swearing and it was not Jorin, but Sergetten. Jorin’s breath caught and then he asked, “Breakfast? Need he do this every day?”

Sergetten’s answer came after a moment in which he shifted his position. “According to Roichal, every other day seems fine. He hasn’t eaten solid food since he fled the castle.”

“Thunder’s roll. And this is the mage’s doing?”

“Yes. Presumably he can be fed from the other end as well.”

I felt Jorin’s cock twitch noticeably at that idea.

“Also, as of now he can live on the milk of any man, but once he is bonded, I expect only his master’s milk will sustain him. The mage wanted him to be completely dependent.”

“You mean, if he were killed, his slave would die, too?”

“I strongly suspect so. There are many levels of strength to this kind of bond spell, and this one is beyond anything I had previously imagined. I believe the mage was shaping our prince to be his from the moment of his conception. It may be why the Queen had such a difficult time bearing him, and why his birth killed her.”

I nearly choked at that, but could feel Jorin was nearly at the edge, and I concentrated on him and his pleasure.

“Sergetten?” he asked. “Have I permission to spill now?”

“You do, sura’an,” he said. “But I expect you to take care of me next.”

In the next moment Jorin’s cock was spasming in my throat as he spilled. After several deep thrusts, he began to soften, and I suckled and licked at the last drops oozing out as he shrank in size. When at last I looked up, we were alone in the pool. He pulled me up into a kiss and then slid back down in the water with me, holding me in his arms.

I was shaking a little, despite the water’s warmth. “I never expected… to be able to blame anyone for my mother’s death.”

“I shall add it to the tally of things that snake has to answer for,” Jorin said, kissing me on the temple.

We climbed from the water then, and stepped back inside where the drying cloths were. I put my borrowed clothes back on, but Jorin stayed as he was, in nothing.

He took my hands in his, and kissed my fingers one by one. “I must go to my master now, one last time,” he said.

I took his face in my hands and looked into his eyes, so dark and sad. “Will it be hard to part from him?”

“It will be harder for him,” Jorin said. “For at least I have you, whom I have loved and desired as far back as I can remember. Sergetten, though, will be alone.”

“He must have someone,” I insisted.

Jorin bent his head close to mine. “There is but one man he has truly loved. Do you recall what he said about the pain of being under the heel of a loveless tyrant who does not respect you? Kenet, do you know what he was before he became your tutor?”

“What do you mean, ‘what he was’…?”

“Did you never think who your father’s ladra’an was?”

I pulled back in shock, yet even as I did, I could see the sense of the thing. “Sergetten loves my father?”

“As I love you. But your father has either never loved him back, or lost that love a long time ago.”

I felt a lump in my throat. “That is sad.”

“It is. But he accepts his fate. I have been as good to him as I know how. But he has always known I am yours.”

I let go Jorin’s hands then. “Go to him. Tell him I am sorry I must deprive him, but… but… Just go to him. Be with him one last time, Jorin, and then come to me.” I pulled him close, his bare skin still slightly damp against the clothes I had put on, and then let him go once more.

* * *

Can’t get enough of Kenet and Jorin? Visit The Prince’s Boy fan art gallery on Cecilia’s website!

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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