The Prince’s Boy: Chapter 90

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 Ninety: Jorin

90: Jorin

jorin-theprincesboy

Kan followed me through the passages. We went past the room that Kenet and I had shared in the years we had lived here, but there was no time to pause for nostalgia.

I was making for the tower that Seroi called his own. “If he is holding Bolan’s son and the other boys hostage, I would wager that is where they will be,” I said to Kan.

“Of course.” Kan ground his teeth as he spoke. “You nearly succeed in taking his hand off. He surely knows a spell that will merely require the raping of some young lad to fix him right up.” He knew even better than I how the very darkest of Night Magic could be used. “We must get them out if we find them. Those boys are not merely hostages to ensure their fathers’ compliance. They are like provisions for a siege to a mage like him.”

I was also certain Sergetten was in the tower. We were no longer bound, and yet, I could almost feel him the way I had when we were.

We came first to the boys, about ten of them, in the lowest chamber of the tower. Each one was naked and bound around the wrists by a series of knotted ropes. Some of the ropes were attached to iron rings in the wall, others to rings set in the floor.

“Ropes! Ha. A sword shall make quick work of this, lads,” Kan said, as the boys looked up at him in amazement.

“Quietly, sir,” the eldest of them, perhaps ten years of age, warned. “Our captor is occupied upstairs.”

“Which of you is Bolan’s son?” I whispered.

“I am, sir,” said one of the younger ones.

“I saw your father outside,” I said in a soft voice. “He is eager to know you are safe, as are all your fathers. And mothers, too, I am sure.” Now that we were somewhere with a bit of light I could see the blood on my sword, but I had nothing to wipe it clean with. There was no sign of clothing for the boys, either. “Can you all be brave and follow Kan here to the village?”

The eldest wriggled out of his ropes once Kan had severed them. “We will, sir,” he said. “I am Captain Jaiks’s son.”

“Excellent. When you see him, tell him Jorin sends his thanks for his kindness, and that I am glad to repay the favor.”

“I will, sir. But I thought you should know there is one more boy.”

“Good lad. Is the boy upstairs with the mage?” I asked.

Jaiks’s son shook his head and pointed to a door set in the wall that I had assumed was a small storage chamber. Perhaps, in a way, it was.

I could see a pair of bright eyes peering at me through the decorative triangular hole in the wooden door. “What is your name?” I asked.

“Istin,” the boy whispered.

“Why are you locked away from the other boys, Istin?” I asked as I examined the iron hasp and the lock on the door. It was not large, but it was effective.

“I’m not one of them,” he said, and there was a kind of mournfulness in his young voice that gave me pause.

“What do you mean?” I asked, as Kan came and tugged on the lock.

“They… they’re all sons of the castle guard. I’m… the mage kidnapped me when I was little.”

Little? How little? This boy couldn’t be more than ten.

“You’ve been imprisoned here right under Korl’s nose all these years?” Kan hissed, outraged.

“Oh no, sir. He used to have me and a bunch of other boys at another keep. The army saved us, but a few days ago he pulled me here by magic.”

“Just like Sergetten,” I said to Kan.

“Aye.” Kan let go the lock with a frustrated sound. “A few sharp blows with a sword will have that off, but it’ll make quite a noise.”

“Istin,” I asked, “can you be brave and stay here a little longer?”

I could see his eyes well with tears. “Don’t let him ride me,” the boy begged, clutching at the small window with his fingers.

Kan struck once at the lock with the hilt of his sword, but even that half-strength blow was too much noise to risk. “So that’s why he’s corralled here,” Kan said to me. “This is Seroi’s getaway horse.”

“Take the others to safety,” I said to Kan. “I’ll work on this. Get back as fast as you can.”

He met my eyes as if about to argue, then nodded. The other boys hurried after him, into the secret tunnels once more.

Once they were gone, I tried putting my sword through the lock. If it could be pried open, perhaps that would not make so much noise…

A scream from above tore through the air.

I knew that voice, even in ragged agony. Sergetten. So, it was not a boy the mage turned to for his restorative spell this time.

I was making my way up the spiraling stairs, my sword still in my hand, before I had time to consider whether the action was wise or not. I hoped Kan would be able to get the boys to safety and then come back to help me if I needed it.

Perhaps I wouldn’t need it. Perhaps the mage had lost much blood and with only one hand would be an easy target. I imagined I might find him, balls-deep in Sergetten, and a ripe target for beheading.

I went all the way to the top of the tower, through a thick cloud of incense that left me coughing, and the pushed open the trap door in the floor. I emerged to find both of them on the floor in the center of a ring of candles. Sergetten was face down, Seroi straddling his legs, his monstrous cock lying along the crack of Sergetten’s arsecheeks and dripping onto the small of his back.

Sergetten did not appear to be conscious, but I knew, somehow, that if he had died, I would have known.

I charged forward, sword raised, but it was as if something struck me on the wrist, knocking it free. Then it was like an iron grip took each of my wrists, holding them behind my back as I continued trying to move forward.

Magehands. I had not known he could use them thus.

“Welcome, Jorin. How thoughtful of you to deliver yourself to my ritual chamber,” Seroi said. “I will deal with you after I am finished with your mentor.”

I saw now what he was doing. He had whipped and cut Sergetten until his back was bloody, and the many slits in his multi-headed cock were now sucking up the blood like tiny mouths. His cock was streaked with dark blood and I wondered how much he had siphoned from inside as well.

He flexed his hand as if trying on a glove. I could see no evidence of the injury I had given him. Sky above, was it possible to defeat him?

He laughed and stood then, and hauled Sergetten to his knees, holding him by the hair. “Clean me up now, boy,” he said. “I’ve left your lying tongue intact after all…”

Sergetten may have been beaten, but he was not cowed. Seroi cursed suddenly and struck him across the face, and although I could not see what had happened because Seroi’s back was to me, it was apparent enough that Sergetten had bitten him. The mage struck him again, enraged, and Sergetten’s head struck the stone floor as he fell.

There was a long moment of silence.

Then the mage snuffed the candles with a wide gesture of his arms and stepped from the circle. He shrugged a dark robe over his shoulders and then came close to me. I had forgotten how tall he was. He smelled of blood and worse things. He opened his hands and a set of iron manacles flew to him.

He fastened them about my wrists behind my back. “That shall hold you until I return from the battle,” he said. “This will be over quickly.”

He pushed me to my knees then, and for a moment I was afraid he was going to try to shove his monstrous cock down my throat. But no, he merely wrestled me to a ring set in the floor, and chained the manacles to it, so that I was kneeling with my hands bound behind me, unable to stand.

And then he left. I felt the very air seem to clear as he went, as if the miasma followed him.

“Sergetten?” I asked, quietly, as if too loud a voice might hurt him. “I’ve come for you.”

There was no answer.

“What, not going to call me a fool for charging up here alone and getting myself trapped as well?”

Thunder’s roll. Still no reaction.

“I guess you were right about that. And you were right about… so many things.” Kenet had forgiven me for what I had done with his body and my magic, but would he forgive me for getting killed? I doubted it.

Sergetten jerked suddenly and I pulled reflexively against the iron, trying to go to his side. I watched helplessly as he drew a ragged breath.

His arm moved. Then the other. I stayed silent now, as if my voice might distract him from his task.

He pushed himself up partway, then settled for rolling onto his back, wincing as the cuts and slices made contact with the rough stone.

His front was not much better, bruised and marked in places as if he’d been hanging in a harness for a long time. But I could not see any gaping wounds. I consoled myself with this fact.

“Sergetten,” I tried again, after he lay still for a moment.

He nodded his head, as if he wanted to acknowledge me, but could not speak yet. He pressed his hand to his chest and coughed. He drew a few deliberate breaths. I worried that he was on the verge of dying and these were his last breaths I was witnessing.

Then, “Jorin.”

“Sir.”

He shook his head weakly.

“Sorry, Sergetten. But your name means the same to me anyway, you know.”

He made a croaking sound, and it took me a moment to realize it was a laugh. “Then… then I am a fool, too.” He groaned then.

“Can you sit up?”

He shook his head. “Not yet. I doubt I am supposed to be conscious at all just now, else he’d have bound me. Tell me all you can while you can.”

“After you were… snatched, I fought Roichal as planned. Except our enemy possessed him. He had his prick, you see…” At Sergetten’s nod I knew he grasped the situation. “So I, well, I managed not only to win the fight and sever our enemy’s hold on the general, I… I took things one step further.”

He grasped my meaning immediately. “Kenet.”

“Yes.”

We were both silent a moment while I tried to find a way to tell him what I had done.

“He jumped into the fray thinking to help me fight the mage possessing Roichal’s body. Once I had him in my arms though… well… I rode him back to Night Rider camp,” I said finally. “You said… you said there would come a day when I would be too rough with him, when I would…”

Again that croak of a laugh. “You deflowered him and rode him halfway across the continent at the same time?”

“Yes.” My face was red.

Another croak. “Well. Perhaps that was too rough, if you’ve left him in an unusable state.”

“He… he seems to be recovered now.”

“Not so bad after all, then.”

“I was speaking of the emotional pain more than physical damage.”

“As was I.” He rubbed his chest with his palm.

“Very well. At any rate, we landed among the Night Riders, who had met up with the military command. When they saw Roichal…”

Now, he raised his head in surprise. “You brought Roichal with you and Kenet? All the way from Pellon?”

“Yes.”

He stared at me another moment, then lowered his head to the stone again. “You astound me, Jorin Weltskin. What other miracles have you performed?”

“Well, then we planned to assault the castle here. Our enemy insisted that Kenet and I surrender ourselves to him in exchange for you and our king. Of course no trade was made, but it was not Kenet, but Kan, who entered the gate with me. We set to fighting him while Kenet led another force through the secret passageways.” I clenched my fists. “I struck him quite a blow, too! Nearly took off his hand…”

“I know,” Sergetten said, and I heard an edge of his old wryness in it.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know he’d use you to heal himself. We… Kan and I freed all but one of the boys from downstairs.”

“That was well done.”

“Meanwhile, Kenet will be trying to rescue his father. Perhaps he already has, and is now leading our enemy on a merry chase…”

Sergetten shook his head. “He will not leave you. He cannot. Without you, he cannot live.”

“I know.” I hung my head. “And here I am, like bait in a trap.”

“You must free yourself,” he rasped. “Our enemy will need to defeat you in a fight… like the one between you and Roichal. Once he has established dominance over you, he will try to subsume your bond to Kenet.”

“Can he do that?”

“Your bond is special. Even he is not sure if he can merely take over your bond as he might another.”

“I know. I saw… your argument with him earlier today.”

Sergetten nodded. “I had hoped you could. I… I knew not whether I would survive long enough to tell you all I need to. He will try to take your cock and overtake your bond to Kenet that way, perhaps…” Sergetten broke off as he coughed and this time he rolled onto his side, coughing up some foamy blood as he curled into a protective position. “If that is not enough, in a few years, he might unravel the bond between you and weave his own. In the meanwhile, though, if he has you both… it is just as bad as before. Maybe worse. You are…” He coughed again, then drew another slow breath.

“Sergetten…”

“You must free yourself. You must… release yourself. Now, I mean.”

I tugged on the chain.

“Idiot,” he spat. “Night Magic.” He coughed again. “Release.”

Oh. “You mean…”

“Yes,” he rasped.

I closed my eyes. Once he had punished me for being unable to make my cock rise with arousal without the touch of my hand. Could I do it now?

“Tell me,” he said. “It will… help.”

I wasn’t sure which one of us he meant it would help, but I spoke as I tried to imagine my cock coming to life. I drew deep breaths.

“Think of him.”

Kenet. I imagined him crawling toward me, a shy smile on his face. “His fingers are cool as he cups my milksacks,” I said.

“Good.”

I could picture him perfectly, the blue of his eyes clear as the sky as he looked up at me. “He… he touches me lightly, teasing at my cock, as it lengthens in his fingers. He grips a little tighter, pushing the skin back, exposing the tip.”

My cock was filling with blood and extended from the foreskin almost as if Kenet’s hand stroked it.

“What next?” Sergetten whispered.

“He… he licks his lips, and then licks just the dewdrop there with his tongue, tasting me.” I remembered a long ago night, in our bed, I had told him my milk might not be clean enough for a prince to drink. “He wants more. He… he suckles the head like a teat, while his hand strokes the shaft, milking me.”

“Feed him.”

I groaned, caught up in the image of Kenet sucking me, much as he had so recently, his tongue coaxing me to greater heights of arousal. But could I spill here, now, untouched by anything other than the fantasy of him?

“Would you leave him hungry?”

“No! Never!” And I suddenly had it, as if I felt the tug behind my navel of a loose thread I had just caught in my hand. If I could make him let loose merely by my will, could I not do the same for myself? It felt as if power rushed up through my spine even as milk fountained up out of my cock and a cried out, my hands coming free as I grabbed for my flesh and stroked, emptying the final drops.

The manacles lay behind me, still locked to the iron ring. I shook myself and then hurried to Sergetten. “Please tell me there’s another miracle I can perform now, to heal you,” I said.

“No. You must find Kenet before the mage does…”

“Idiot. I’m not leaving you. You must tell me all you can while you can about what I can do to defeat Seroi.”

* * *

Prefer reading on paper? You can mail order the finished books of The Prince’s Boy, Volumes One and Two, right now and have them within days! Order direct from Amazon, of use the coupon code UU3ULDAN to get 20% off the cover price if you purchase one or both volumes from Createspace! (Volume one | Volume 2)

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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