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 Nineteen: Kenet

19: Kenet

I leaned against the stone, first with my hand, then my cheek. I could climb no more. Seroi’s tower was not unsurmountable; I knew I had climbed these selfsame stairs many times before. But a leaden fatigue overcame my limbs as I passed into the curtain of incense that hung in the air as always.

I sat down heavily on the stair, my head in my hands, wondering at the sudden tiredness. I wanted to lie down, but I knew Seroi was waiting for me. And I shivered in a kind of instinctive fear of displeasing him, my skin remembering the sensation of his slap on my cheek even if I had convinced myself it had been only a dream.

I turned and put my hands on the stairs, crawling upward. The incense seemed particularly stifling today. Perhaps as spring’s heat turned to summer this was how it would be? I shed my clothes as I went.

Thus it was that I crawled, naked, into his chamber, my progress across the room toward him arrested only by an object sticking up from the center of the floor where I usually knelt. I fixed my eyes dizzily upon it. The black thing was perhaps the length of my longest finger, and twice as wide, as smooth as glass and shaped like a small tower, tapered at the top. That was my first thought, that it was a piece from one of the grand siege boards my father and some of the regional governors sometimes used to plan military campaigns.

Before I could move to pick it up, though, Seroi spoke. “You come to me so eager, my prince. I am very pleased.”

My nakedness was suddenly mortifying and I blushed, unable to look up and meet his eye.

“But are you truly eager?” He was close by me then, and tapped upon my shoulder with a rod. “Up. Let me see the state of your cock.”

Oh. I straightened up, though I remained on my knees, letting my hands fall to my sides, and looked down. I was expecting to see a flaccid member, but somehow I had arisen fully, a dewdrop glistening at the tip. My breath caught, as I imagined Jorin looking up at me, and licking it away as if it were honey. I closed my eyes.

“Oh yes, my prince, you please me well. You will give much milk to me this time, won’t you?”

“Yes, my lord,” I said, as I felt the tip of the rod cross my shoulders as if he were drawing a line from one to the other.

“You are no doubt wondering, though, what this is you’ve encountered upon the floor?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“That is for you, my prince. Something to deepen your pleasure when you release.”

My breath caught again as the purpose of the object suddenly became clear in my mind. As the destination of it hit me. I clenched my buttocks reflexively.

I felt the rod’s tip draw a line down my back and then press into one of my arsecheeks, pushing it aside and exposing my arsehole to the air. I clenched tighter, and the rod disappeared.

I felt his hand, soft on my hair. “There is no need to be afraid,” he said, his voice gentle now. “This is for your pleasure, my prince, not pain.”

“But… but I thought you said it would breach my psychic armor to…?”

“Hush, hush, you understand little. I have charmed and prepared this object for you, to protect you. You are inevitably opening, my prince, just like a rose that has begun to bloom, and this is a step we must take now.” He continued to stroke my hair and I relaxed against his touch, then was surprised to be pulled into his robed arms. He was clothed? I had felt the air move when he stepped close and his robes swished, but I had not taken notice of it at the time.

I was suddenly chilled, rather than overheated, and his robes only emphasized how small and naked I felt. I was nearly Seroi’s height, but somehow like this I felt as vulnerable as when I had been a child. In fact, his lips brushed over my forehead.

“I’m not ready to do that,” I said, not even sure why now I was resisting him, why the thought of taking the object into me made me cringe, despite his assurances it would not hurt.

“My prince, my darling prince, what I have not told you or your father yet is that I have chosen the day for your coming of age ritual,” he said, his fingers finding my cock, which was still as eager as ever. He stroked me lightly, so lightly, and I felt magehands then too, circling each of my nipples, an invisible finger stroking along my lips. I was starting to whimper. “I have chosen a date just a few weeks hence near midsummer. We must have the old magic cleared from your body completely by then.”

His hands moved again, one into my hair, the other tugging at one nipple, then pinching it sharply when I tried to twist away. The magehands were stroking between my buttocks then, and they felt slick, teasing over my hole and pulling on my cock with an oily surety. They could not be escaped no matter how I moved.

“You will do as I say,” he hissed into my ear. “I know you only fight me because your body, mind, and spirit are still not completely awakened to lust as they should be. I know you want to come, Kenet. I know you do.” The magical stroking did not stop or even slow. “Isn’t that why you are never late to our appointments? Isn’t that why you come to me now with your cock already hard and glistening with dew?”

“Yes,” I hissed back, barely able to answer, my body was so taut with need. He somehow knew just how much stroking to give me to keep me on edge yet not give me release. I knew from experience now that he would keep me on that edge until I broke down and begged, sometimes with tears, for him to let me come.

It was as if he knew what I was thinking. “There shall be no begging this time, my prince. Or, at least, I assure you your pleas will fall on deaf ears. Begging shall do you no good. I will not allow you release until you crawl over to that spike and impale yourself on it.”

I spasmed in his arms, something like bursting into tears except there were no actual tears. He pushed me away then, gently, until I was on all fours and he had stepped back, out of my reach.

“Please, my lord, not this time. Next time. I promise I will take it next time. I will give you so much milk, remember?” I reached for my own cock, but only stroked it once before the rod caught me on the knuckles and I yelped in pain, letting go and shaking my hand. “Please, my lord…”

But he merely remained silent, and let me abase myself even further before I finally believed he was serious about what he had said.

It took me a long time to call up the courage to approach the thing again. “Must I… sit upon it?” I finally said meekly. “Or may I spread my legs and take it in hand?”

He knelt beside me. “Had you asked earlier, before your defiance and refusal, I might have considered your preference,” he said, his voice quiet, but no less commanding than if he’d spoken louder. “Now I will be satisfied with nothing less than perfect obedience.”

I was shaking. “And if I refuse?”

“You do not dare refuse,” he said simply. “Would you risk being unmanned? That is what will happen if we do not complete the cycle we have begun to free you of the spells before your coming of age ceremony.”

“Unmanned?”

“Well, you will not lose your cock completely,” he said, “if that is what you are thinking. But it will cease to rise. You will no longer derive pleasure from it and you will be unable to use it for its intended purpose of planting the royal seed in some noblewoman’s furrow.”

I had no argument for that. I stalled one last time. “It will not hurt?”

“I promised you it would not, so it will not,” he said, in that same, soft, commanding voice. “Though I am sorely tempted, if you test my patience any longer, to punish you for your disobedience in some other way.”

I crawled to the thing, touching it with my fingertip. It was affixed at the center of the ritual circle, but how I could not tell. I could feel my cheek burning as if he had just slapped me anew, though he had not. “I thought… I thought it was… wrong for anyone, even you, to raise a hand to royal flesh,” I said.

“My prince,” he purred, suddenly quite close, “have we done anything in this tower that makes you believe the usual rules of right and wrong apply here?” I felt his arms, now bare of robes, go around my chest, and the hard, hot press of his cock against the back of my thigh. “Did I not warn you in the very beginning of how it would seem, yet how necessary it would be?”

“You did,” I choked, as the magehands began stroking me all over again, my cock especially. I crawled out of his embrace and positioned myself over the thing, my shins against the stone, lowering myself until I felt it just touch my hole.

I could hear a slick sound as I wavered there, slick and rhythmic but not from the invisible hands touching me. Seroi was tugging on his own cock behind me.

Two magehands spread my cheeks, whether to make the way easier for me, or the sight more enticing for him, I do not know.

I lowered myself still more, my haunches shaking slightly, as the tapered tip breached me. The magehand wrapped around my cock slowed, then squeezed tight, as if it would not resume stroking until I had completed the task.

I sucked in a breath. The thing was smooth as glass, and as cold as ice. Should it warm to my body? I slid further down it then, all too aware of how chill it felt, each inch of it as it pushed into me. And yet Seroi had promised pleasure, and there was that too, in the odd but intensely likable sensation I could only liken to having my cock stroked… but from the inside. I pushed myself down faster to finish and that was what it felt like, a stroke from the inside. I dared to rise up and push myself down again to see if it would feel that way again, and it did.

Far from angry at my disobedience, Seroi was pleased. “Ah, my prince, you begin to see. Do you like the way that feels?”

“Yes,” I admitted.

“You may ride the spike if you enjoy it,” he said, and I could hear the slick rhythm of his hand on his own cock speed up.

I rocked forward and back, impaling myself several more times on it, pulling completely free and then down onto it again.

“Very good,” he praised. “You should know that with the threat of punishment always comes the possibility of reward. You have pleased me now, my prince. I already promised you would spill pleasurably. Is there anything else you would like to request as a reward for pleasing me?”

I shook my head. “No, my lord. I… just please let me finish.”

“Tsk. My prince. Is there some particular way you might enjoy your release, then?”

An idea struck me then, that I would enjoy looking down and seeing him servicing me the way I had him. “Your mouth, my lord. I would… I would like to come on your tongue.”

He laughed, full of mirth. “Oh, an excellent choice, my prince.”

He knelt in front of me and placed his hands on my thighs, widening the space between my knees. I was no longer moving on the spike, but it felt almost as if its coldness were pulsing inside me. I looked down on the back of Seroi’s head as he took my prick into his mouth. The wet suction was heavenly after the ghostly touch of the magehands, but then I cried out in surprise as I felt him lick his way up. His tongue was rough like a cat’s, and soon he was stroking the shaft while he concentrated on licking only the too-sensitive head. It wasn’t pain exactly, but it made me scream as he dragged it slowly, so slowly up the cleft of the head, and I wondered if I were being scraped raw enough to bleed. And yet, it was the most arousing sensation I had ever felt.

He paused and looked up. “I will lick three times more, and you will come on the third one,” he said.

As usual, he was correct. Milk was fountaining up from me nearly the moment that third lick began, and then he caught it all in his mouth.

My shoulders slumped as the tension drained from me on release, but he held me upright a bit longer, and suddenly I had his slick cock in my own mouth. I could not tell if it was his real hands or magehands that held my head steady as he drove over the slickness of my tongue with short, quick jerks of his hips. The ashen-bitter flood he released made me choke and cough, but there was no escape from the iron grip or the flesh pushing into my throat.

I must have blacked out for a while. When I came to, he was fully robed again. My head was in his lap and he was stroking my hair.

“Are you well, my prince?” he asked, and I felt a tender fingertip trace one of my eyebrows.

“Am I?” I asked.

He chuckled. “You are not injured. You are not bleeding or bruised. And your psychic armor is undamaged. But are you well?”

“I suppose,” I said, wondering about the leaden limbs which had returned. “Do you need me to spill again? I… I didn’t think how my choice of reward would deprive you of my milk for working the spell.”

He chuckled again. “My prince, you are a treasure. Your milk is best direct from the source. I have been consuming it as part of a potion, but there will be no more need for that.”

For some reason I felt even more leaden and heavy as he revealed that he had been drinking my seed all along. I stayed silent.

“You may go,” he whispered, “if you wish, or you may stay and sleep just as you are.”

I shook my head. “I… I should go. Don’t… don’t want to rouse suspicion of any kind.”

“Ah, my prince grows wise,” he said, fondness making his voice rich. “Fear not, sweet prince. We have a few weeks yet to indulge these pursuits.”

I clung to his robes then, remembering what he’d said. “But… but you said you were going to… p-punish me next time.”

“Hush, hush.” He calmed my trembling with a hand, his real hand, stroking my bare shoulder. “That was only if you disobeyed. But you did not. You were perfect, my prince.”

And quite suddenly I felt my chin tilt upward and then the slick warmth of his lips against mine, so completely unlike Jorin’s that at first I jerked in surprise. But my body responded, my bare skin rubbing against his robes, and as his cat-rough tongue pushed into my mouth I felt his hand wrap around my reborn erection. “Looks like you will be giving me some more milk today after all, my prince,” he said, as he began to stroke.

* * *

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.